ock, they saw what Norman had
meant by the words _tripe de roche_ (rock-tripe). It was a black, hard,
crumply substance, that nearly covered the surface of the rock, and was
evidently of a vegetable nature. Lucien knew what it was as well as
Norman, and joy had expressed itself upon his pale cheeks at the sight.
As for Basil and Francois they only stood waiting an explanation, and
wondering what value a quantity of "rock moss," as they deemed it, could
be to persons in their condition.

Lucien soon informed them that it was not a "moss," but a "lichen," and
of that celebrated species which will sustain human life. It was the
_Gyrophora_. Norman confirmed Lucien's statement, and furthermore
affirmed, that not only the Indians and Esquimaux, but also parties of
voyageurs, had often subsisted upon it for days, when they would
otherwise have starved. There are many species,--not less than five or
six. All of them possess nutritive properties, but only one is a
palatable food--the _Gyrophora vellea_ of botanists. Unfortunately this
was not the sort which our voyageurs had happened upon, as it grows only
upon rocks shaded by woods, and is rarely met with in the open barrens.
The one, however, which Norman had discovered was the "next best," and
they were all glad at finding even that.

The first thing to be thought of was to collect it, and all four set to
peeling and scraping it from the rocks. The next thought was to make it
ready for eating. Here a new difficulty stared them in the face. The
_tripe de roche_ had to be boiled,--it could not be eaten else,--and
where was the fire? where was the wood to make one? Not a stick was to
be seen. They had not met with a tree during all that day's journey!

They were now as badly off as ever. The _tripe de roche_ would be of no
more use to them than so much dry grass. What could they do with it?

In the midst of their suspense, one of them thought of the
sledge.--Marengo's sledge. That would make a fire, but a very small one.
It might do to cook a single meal. Even that was better than none.
Marengo was not going to object to the arrangement. He looked quite
willing to part with the sledge. But a few hours before, it came near
being used to cook Marengo himself. He was not aware of that, perhaps,
but no matter. All agreed that the sledge must be broken up, and
converted into firewood.

They were about taking it to pieces, and had already "unhitched"
Marengo from it, when Basil,