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Borne high on the crest of the tumbling breakers, they surged to the beach by thousands and lay quivering like quick-silver, stranded in the sand by the back-wash. With a deafening shout men scrambled to the water's edge and scooped them up in their hands. Dickie rushed to the water and returned with a small fish, somewhat resembling a sardine. "Grunion," she announced.
Forget for a while and come with me. The boys are having a mussel-bake on the beach and they've sent for you. If you have ever eaten kelp-baked mussels you'll not wait to be urged. The grunion should run to-night too, and I want you to see them." Gregory drew his fingers through his tousled hair and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I can't go. I'm waiting for a radio from Diablo."
Then a shout came from the water. "Grunion." The singing ceased abruptly and the service men scrambled to their feet and raced down the beach. Dickie made haste to follow. "Come on," she cried to Gregory. "And I'll show you the sight of your life." Following the girl to the wet sands, Gregory was amazed at the spectacle. The silver waves were alive with glistening fish.
You've got to work fast to get them for they hop along the beach only for a second. Then the next breaker takes them out." Handing him one of the little fish, she continued: "Take him up to the fire and look at him. Against a good light you can see clear though them. If you had a skillet hot on the coals and threw in a handful of grunion you could never have a finer dish.
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