These occupations interfered for some time with our work at Rock House; but as soon as possible we again returned to our labour with renewed vigour.
I had noticed that the salt crystals had for their base a species of gypsum, which I knew might be made of great service to us in our building operations as plaster.
As an experiment, I broke off some pieces, and, after subjecting them to great heat, reduced them to powder. The plaster this formed with water was smooth and white, and, as I had then no particular use to which I might put it, I plastered over some of the herring casks, that I might be perfectly certain that all air was excluded. The remainder of the casks I left as they were, for I presently intended to preserve their contents by smoking. To do this, the boys and I built a small hut of reeds and branches, and then we strung our herrings on lines across the roof. On the floor we lit a great fire of brushwood and moss, which threw out a dense smoke, curling in volumes round the fish, and they in a few days seemed perfectly cured.
About a month after the appearance of the herrings we were favoured by a visit from other shoals of fish. Jack espied them first, and called to us that a lot of young whales were off the coast. We ran down and discovered the bay apparently swarming with great sturgeon, salmon, and trout, all making for the mouth of Jackal River, that they might ascend it and deposit their spawn amongst the stones.
Jack was delighted at his discovery.
“Here are proper fish!” he exclaimed; “none of your paltry fry. How do you preserve these sorts of fish? Potted, salted, or smoked?”
“Not so fast,” said I, “not so fast; tell me how they are to be caught, and I will tell you how they are to be cooked.”
“Oh! I'll catch them fast enough,” he replied, and darted off to Rock House.
