94 ; FISH HARVESTING. 
the candlestick, literally a stick for the candle, 
consists of a bit of wood split at one end, with 
the fish inserted in the cleft. 
These ready-made sea-candles— little dips 
wanting only a wick that can be added in a 
minute —are easily transformed by heat and 
pressure into liquid. When the Indian drinks 
instead of burning them, he gets a fuel in the 
shape of oil, that keeps up the combustion with- 
in him, and which is burnt and consumed in 
the lungs just as it was by the wick, but only 
gives heat. Itis by no mere chance that myriads 
of small fish, in obedience to a wondrous instinct, 
annually visit the northern seas, containing with- 
in themselves all the elements necessary for sup- 
plying light, heat, and life to the poor savage, 
who, but for this, must perish in the bitter cold 
of the long dreary winter. 
As soon as the Indians have stored away the 
full supply of food for the winter, all the fish 
subsequently taken are converted into oil. If we 
stroll down to the lodges near the beach, we shall 
see for ourselves how they manage it. The fish 
reserved for oil-making have been piled in heaps 
until partially decomposed; five or six fires are 
blazing away, and in each fire are a number 
of large round pebbles, to be made very hot. 
