death lent to their ready feet, —but not until another victim had dank the sod with the unsought libation of its heart's blood.
It pained me, as I came up, to witness the noble beasts as they lay extended upon the gore-dyed ground. But the present was no time for regret; we were to feed upon their carcasses.
The process of butchering was a new development of that most useful science. The carcase was first turned upon the belly, and braced to a position by its distended legs. The operator then commenced his labors by gathering the long hair of the "boss," and severing a piece obliquely at the junction of the neck and shoulders, —then parting the hide from neck to rump, a few passes of his ready knife laid bare the sides, —next paring away the loose skin and preparing a hold, with one hand he pulled the shoulder towards him and with the other severed it from the body;— cutting aslant the uprights of the spina dorsi and "hump ribs," along the lateral to the curve, and parting the "fleece" from the tough flesh at that point he deposited it upon a clean grass-spot.
The same process being described upon the opposite side, the carcase was then slightly inclined, and, by aid of the leg-bone bisected at the kneejoint, the "hump-ribs" were parted from the vertebra; after which, passing his knife aside the ninth rib and around the ends at the midriff, he laid hold of the dissevered side, and, with two or three well directed jerks, removed it to be laid upon his choicely assorted pile; a few other brief minutia then completed the task.
Meanwhile, divers of the company had joined the butcher, and, while some were greedily feeding upon liver and gall, others helped themselves to marrow-bones, "boudins," and intestinum medulæ, (choice selections with mountaineers,) and others, laden with rich spoils, hastened their return to commence the more agreeable task of cooking and eating.
The remaining animal was butchered in a trice, and select portions of each were then placed upon a pack-horse and conveyed to the waggons.
The assortment was, indeed, a splendid one. The "depouille" (fleecefat) was full two inches thick upon the animal's back, and the other dainties were enough to charm the eyes and excite the voracity of an epicure.
The camp-fires soon presented a busy and amusing spectacle. Each one was ornamented with delicious roasts, en appolas, on sticks planted aslope around it, attentively watched by the longing voyageurs, who awaited the slow process of cooking. Some were seen with thin slices from the larder, barely heated through by the agency of a few coals, retreating from the admiring throng to enjoy solo their half-cooked morsels, —others, paring off bit by bit from the fresh-turned hissing roasts, while their opposite received the finishing operation of the fire, —and others, tossing their everted boudins into the flames, and in a few seconds withdrawing for the repast, each seizing his ample share, bemouthed the end in quick succession to sever the chosen esculent, which, while yielding to the eager teeth, coursed miniature rivulets of oily exuberance from the extremities of the
active orifice, bedaubing both face and chin, and leaving its delighted eater in all the glories of grease!
Every man had now become his own cook, and, not to be backward, I closed in with the overture.
Seizing a frying-pan replete with tempting levies from the "fleece," I twice subjected it to its duty, and as often its delicious contents found ample store-house; and even yet my longing appetite seemed loth to cry "hold, enough!"
The agreeable odor exhaled from the drippings of the frying flesh, contained in the pan, invited the taste, —a temptation claiming me for its subject. Catching up the vessel, a testing sip made way for the whole of its contents, at a single draught, —full six gills! Strange as it may seem, I did not experience the least unpleasant feeling as the result of my extraordinary potation.
The stomach never rebels against buffalo-fat. Persons, subsisting entirely upon the flesh of these animals, prefer an assortment of at least one third solid depouille.
The voyageur is never more satisfied than when he has a good supply of buffalo-beef at his command. It is then his greasy visage bespeaks content, and his jocund voice and merry laugh evince the deep-felt pleasure and gratification that reign within.
Talk not to him of the delicacies of civilized life, —of pies, puddings, soups, fricasees, roast-beef, pound-cake, and desert, —he cares for none of these things, and will laugh at your verdancy!
He knows his own preference, and will tell you your boasted excellencies are not to be compared with it. If you object to the sameness of his simple fare, he will recount the several varieties of its parts, and descant upon each of their peculiar merits. He will illustrate the numerous and dissimilar modes of so preparing them, that they cannot fail to excite by their presence and appease by their taste the appetite of the most fastidious. And then, in point of health, there is nothing equal to buffalo-meat. It, alone, will cure dyspepsy, prevent consumption, amend a broken constitution, put flesh upon the bones of a skeleton, and restore a dead man again to life! —
