"Eat that?" asked Lindbohm, regarding the object doubtfully. "I would yust as soon bite into a live hedgehog."
Michali produced a large pocket knife and cut the creature in two. It contained about a spoonful of yellow eggs and a quantity of dark, muddy substance. Carefully collecting the contents upon the point of his knife, he offered the dainty morsel to Lindbohm and Curtis, who each took a little on the tip of his finger and tasted.
"Tastes like salt mud," said the Swede.
"Nevertheless, if it will sustain life, and if more of them can be found"—suggested the American.
Removing their shoes and arming themselves with sticks, the three adventurers waded out a little way from shore and began to poke among the rocks for sea urchins.
In a short time a pile of living pincushions rewarded their efforts. The spines moved continually, as though rooted in loose skin, and occasionally one of the queer creatures rolled slowly seaward, walking on the tips.
"Kind of a globular centipede, with the legs sticking in all directions, isn't he?" observed Curtis, regarding one in motion.
"You would have thought so had you on one stepped!" replied Michali; "the spines are sometimes—what you call him, poisonous. You would not have put on your boot for many days."
"They are slow eating," said the Swede, sucking the contents from the half of one noisily, as though it were a teacup.
"Nevertheless, with bread they are delicious," persisted Michali.