The first three days after arrival were allowed for rest and recovery. On the fourth day at gun-fire (6 A. M. in winter and 5 A. M. in summer) the new arrival’s chain was released from the bar, which ran the length of the wooden guard bed, the night’s resting-place for all, and he was marched out with his fellow convict to labor. On passing through the great gates a blacksmith struck with a hammer upon the leg iron to test its solidity. A short pause followed for the issue of a ration of sour wine, and the parties were then distributed to the various works in hand. It was for the most part unskilled labor, mere brute force applied to moving heavy burdens. They were harnessed like beasts to carts, laden with stone, or set to work in gangs at raising the great weight of the pile driver, or operating the steel drill, driven down into the solid rock. But work was continued incessantly and in all weathers, “rain or shine,” in the pelting storm and under the fierce rays of the summer sun, with a short rest at mid-day; bodies thrown down anywhere they stood, when the signal was given. Work went on for ten hours daily until the hour of return to the _bagne_, where the evening meal, the common feed at the trough, awaited them. Each squad, a dozen or more, gathered round the same _gamelle_, or great tub, filled with a mess of bean soup, into which they dipped their wooden spoons, fighting like dogs over a bone, each for his portion. The weakest fared worst, and the strongest and greediest carried off the lion’s share. The same vessel was passed from hand to hand, and they drank foul water with dirty mouths. After the sorry feast an hour or two of idleness followed, and the convicts lay on the great wooden bed (_rama_), conversing with one another. At last the whistle for all to “turn in” was heard, when every one, without undressing, rolled himself in his grass blanket, and sought oblivion, often vainly, in sleep. Nothing now broke the silence but the footsteps of the night watchman going his rounds under the dim light of the oil lamps, and the occasional falling of his hammer as he struck the bars and chains to be certain that they had not been tampered with. When this was done just before the rising hour it was called “morning prayer.”