The Hunters Feast | Page 6

for "daily bread."
Upon the "route" no great opportunity is found of killing game, which
always requires time to approach it with caution. Although we passed
through what appeared to be excellent cover for various species of wild
animals, we reached our first camp without having ruffled either hair or
feathers. In fact, neither bird nor quadruped had been seen, although
almost every one of the party had been on the look out for game during
most of the journey.
This was rather discouraging, and we reasoned that if such was to be
our luck until we got into the buffalo-range we should have a very dull
time of it. We were well provisioned, however, and we regretted the
absence of game only on account of the sport. A large bag of biscuit,
and one of flour, several pieces of "hung bacon," some dry ox-tongues,
a stock of green coffee, sugar, and salt, were the principal and
necessary stores. There were "luxuries," too, which each had provided
according to his fancy, though not much of these, as every one of the
party had had some time or other in his life a little experience in the
way of "roughing it." Most of the loading of the waggon consisted of
provender for our horses and mules.
We made full thirty miles on the first day. Our road was a good one.
We passed over easy undulations, most of them covered with
"black-jack." This is a species of dwarf oak, so called from the very
dark colour of its wrinkled bark. It is almost worthless as a timber,
being too small for most purposes. It is ornamental, however, forming

copse-like groves upon the swells of the prairie, while its dark green
foliage contrasts pleasantly with the lighter green of the grasses beneath
its shade. The young botanist, Besancon, had least cause to complain.
His time had been sufficiently pleasant during the day. New foliage fell
under his observation--new flowers opened their corollas to his
delighted gaze. He was aided in making his collections by the
hunter-naturalist, who of course was tolerably well versed in this
kindred science.
We encamped by the edge of a small creek of clear water. Our camp
was laid out in due form, and everything arranged in the order we
designed habitually to follow.
Every man unsaddled his own horse. There are no servants in
prairie-land. Even Lanty's services extended not beyond the cuisine,
and for this department he had had his training as the cook of a New
Orleans trading ship. Jake had enough to do with his mules; and to have
asked one of our hunter-guides to perform the task of unsaddling your
horse, would have been a hazardous experiment. Menial service to a
free trapper! There are no servants in prairie-land.
Our horses and mules were picketed on a piece of open ground, each
having his "trail-rope," which allowed a circuit of several yards. The
two tents were pitched side by side, facing the stream, and the waggon
drawn up some twenty feet in the rear. In the triangle between the
waggon and the tents was kindled a large fire, upon each side of which
two stakes, forked at the top, were driven into the ground. A long
sapling resting in the forks traversed the blaze from side to side. This
was Lanty's "crane,"--the fire was his kitchen.
Let me sketch the camp more minutely, for our first camp was a type of
all the others in its general features. Sometimes indeed the tents did not
front the same way, when these openings were set to "oblige the wind,"
but they were always placed side by side in front of the waggon. They
were small tents of the old-fashioned conical kind, requiring only one
pole each. They were of sufficient size for our purpose, as there were
only three of us to each--the guides, with Jake and Lanty, finding their
lodgment under the tilt of the waggon. With their graceful shape, and

snowy-white colour against the dark green foliage of the trees, they
formed an agreeable contrast; and a coup d'oeil of the camp would have
been no mean picture to the eye of an artist. The human figures may be
arranged in the following manner.
Supper is getting ready, and Lanty is decidedly at this time the most
important personage on the ground. He is stooping over the fire, with a
small but long-handled frying-pan, in which he is parching the coffee.
It is already browned, and Lanty stirs it about with an iron spoon. The
crane carries the large coffee-kettle of sheet iron, full of water upon the
boil; and a second frying-pan, larger than the first, is filled with sliced
ham, ready to be placed upon the hot cinders.
Our English friend Thompson is