Abby Sweden

The old man sighed but did not answer, and they moved on in silence.  The surf grew suddenly louder, as they emerged from the forest upon a  stretch of sand dunes bordering the sea. A few goats were browsing among  the sandy hillocks, and a skin-clad boy, aided by a wolfish-looking  dog that was only faintly reminiscent of a collie, was watching them.  Mingled with the roar of the surf was a continuous, deep-throated  barking or bellowing, which came from a cluster of jagged rocks a  hundred yards out from shore. Here huge sea-lions hauled themselves  up to lie in the sun or battle with one another. In the immediate  foreground arose the smoke of a fire, tended by a third savage-looking  boy. Crouched near him were several wolfish dogs similar to the one that  guarded the goats.

The old man accelerated his pace, sniffing eagerly as he neared the  fire.

"Mussels!" he muttered ecstatically. "Mussels! And ain't that a crab,  Hoo-Hoo? Ain't that a crab? My, my, you boys are good to your old  grandsire."