and shell-fish play a large part in
Fuegian domestic (!) economy. A large kind of barnacle (_Concholepas
Peruviana_) furnishes their drinking-cups, while an edible mollusc
(_Mactra edulis_) and several species of limpet (_Patellae_) help out
their often scanty larder.

CHAPTER TEN.

SAVED BY A WILLIWAW.

"Wal!" says the old sealer, with an air of relief, when he sees that
danger past, "I guess we've gi'n 'em the slip. But what a close shave!
Ef I hedn't contrived to dicker 'em out o' the sling fixin's, they mout
'a' broke some o' our skulls."

"Ah! that's why you bought them," rejoins the skipper; he, as all the
others, had hitherto been wondering at the acquisition of such worthless
things, with more than their value given for them; for the spears were
but tough poles pointed with flint or bone, and the slings a bit of
seal-skin. "I perceive now what you were up to," he adds, "and a good
bargain you made of it, Chips."

"But why should we have cared?" asked Henry Chester, his English blood
roused, and his temper ruffled by the fright given Leoline. "What had
we to fear from such miserable wretches? Only three men of them, and
five of us!"

"Ay, Mister Henry, that's all true as to the numbers. But ef they war
only _one_ to our five, he wouldn't regard the odds a bit. They're like
wild animals, an' fight jest the same. I've seed a Feweegin, only a
little mite uv a critter, make attack on a whale-boat's crew o' sealers,
an' gi'e sev'ral uv 'em ugly wounds. They don't know sech a thing as
fear, no more'n a trapped badger. Neyther do thar weemen, who fight
jest the same's the men. Thar ain't a squaw in that canoe as cudn't
stan' a tussle wi' the best o' us. 'Sides, ye forgit thet we haven't
any weepens to fight 'em with 'ceptin' our knives." This was true;
neither gun, pistol, nor other offensive arm having been saved from the
sinking _Calypso_. "An' our knives," he continues, "they'd 'a' been o'
but little use against their slings, wi' the which they kin send a stone
a good hundred yards. [Note 1.] Ay, Mister Henry, an' the spears too.
Ef we hedn't got holt o' them, some uv 'em mout be stickin' in us now.
Ez ye may see, they're the sort for dartin'."

The English youth, exulting in the strength and vigour of growing
manhood, is loth to believe all this. He makes no response, however,
having eased his feelings, and being satisfied with the display he has
made of his gallantry by that well-time