t a ton."

"Dessay I could, sir; but do you know the best way to open 'em?"

"Force a knife in between the shells."

"And break the knife," said the old sailor, chuckling. "No, there's a
better way than that. Lay 'em out in the sun away from the water, and
they soon open their mouths and gape."

"But then they die and go bad."

"That's right, sir; they do, and smell lovely. That's the way to do it
best."

"But you can't eat bad oysters."

"Not likely, sir. I'm going to open these with the axe, and after we've
felt whether they've got any pearls in 'em we shall put the soft fish in
the bucket of clean water and take 'em back for cooking. Here goes.
I've seen how it's done before now."

He took one of the oysters, laid it in a particular way upon the rock,
gave it a smart blow over the muscular hinge, and then, taking advantage
of the half-paralysed mollusc, he managed to get the edge of the axe
between the shells, wriggled it about a little, and then, mastering the
opposition offered by the singular creature within, he wrenched the two
shells apart and used his knife to scrape out the flesh of the oyster,
felt it well over and then thrust it into the bucket, which he half
filled with the clear water.

"How many pearls?" said Carey.

"Not one, sir."

"I thought not. But I say, Bob, that's a precious nasty job."

"Not it, sir. I don't mind. Done worse than this."

"And the oyster looks horribly messy."

"It won't when it's made into soup. But I say, nice shells, aren't
they?"

"Beautiful," said Carey, who was examining them. "So these are to cut
up for mother-o'-pearl?"

"Yes, sir, and to make shirt buttons."

Bang! a wrench with the axe, and another fat oyster was cut out and the
shells cast aside, before a fresh search was made for pearls, but
without result.

"Not much luck, Bob," said Carey.

"What! Look at these two shells; and there goes another oyster for the
pot. Reg'lar fat one. I do call it luck. Bet a penny we do better
with the oysters and the tackle for the soup than the doctor does.
Besides, we're going to ketch some fish."

It was very pleasant sitting there in the sunshine, with the
cocoanut-trees waving and bending in the soft breeze to his right, the
calm lagoon, dazzling in its brightness, to his left, and away beyond it
the silver spray of the breakers thundering softly upon the coral reef.
Then, too, there was a submarine garden in every pool, and a luxury of
b