supping upon a skeleton.

our young travellers had now arrived upon the great buffalo-path. without halting, they turned their horses to the right, and followed the trail. it led directly towards the north, and they had no difficulty in following it, as the prairie, for a tract of miles in width, was cut up by the hoofs of the animals; and, in some parts, where the ground was softer and more loamy, the surface presented the appearance of having been turned up by the plough! at other places the hard green turf had resisted the hoof, but even there the grass was so beaten down, that the trail was a perfectly plain one. without troubling themselves about the direction, therefore, the little party rode briskly forward, full of hope that they would soon overtake the buffaloes. but their hopes were not so soon to be realised. these animals had gone upon their annual migration to the north; and as they were keeping almost continually upon the run—scarcely stopping to rest or pasture themselves—it would be no easy matter to come up with them. at night our travellers were obliged to diverge from the trail, in order to get grass for their horses; for, upon a belt of at least four miles in width which the buffaloes had passed over, not a blade of grass was left standing.

but another want now began to be felt by the party—one that filled them with serious apprehensions. at the end of the second day their stock of dried bear’s meat gave out—not an ounce of it was left—and they lay down upon the prairie supperless and hungry. what rendered the prospect still more disheartening, they were passing through a region entirely destitute of game—where no animal is ever seen except the buffaloes themselves, an occasional antelope, or the ever-present prairie-wolf. it was a region essentially desert in its character; although the dry plains were covered with a sward of the famous “buffalo-grass” (sesleria dactyloides), which forms the favourite pasture of these wild cattle. as for the antelopes, they love these desert solitudes; as their free open range affords them an opportunity, from their superior fleetness, of escaping from every enemy. but in these parts they are more than usually shy; and although several of them were seen on the way, our hunters vainly endeavoured to approach within shooting distance of them. wolves they could have shot; but they were not as yet prepared to satisfy their hunger upon the flesh of these filthy, fox-like, creatures. that large troops of wolves had gone forward, hanging after the great herd, was evident. every now and then our hunters saw proof of this, in the clean-picked skeletons of buffaloes that lay along the path. these they knew were such as had got disabled and separated from the drove; for numerous accidents of this kind—owing to the bulls goring one another, or being enfeebled by age and disease—take place during the migration of the vast herds. were it not so, the wolves would never think of following them as they do; for a buffalo in good health can scatter a whole pack of these cowardly, skulking jackals. but the average accidents which occur when such numbers of buffaloes are together—the prospect of old ones, weak and weary, being separated from their companions—of numbers getting mired upon the banks of some muddy river, or drowned in crossing it—of cows heavy with calf falling behind, or with calves already on the hoof, loitering for the purpose of suckling them—the prospect of these chances, combined with the still more enticing hope that the buffaloes will be attacked by a party of indian hunters, often carries a pack of wolves for hundreds of miles across the prairie on the heels of a great herd. in fact, some of these wolves, both of the white and prairie species, seem to have no fixed place of abode; but hang upon the skirts of the buffalo “gangs” throughout all their extended migrations.

i have said that, upon the second night after leaving the butte, our travellers went to sleep supperless. on the third day, they began to feel the cravings of hunger in good earnest. neither beast nor bird appeared in sight upon the wild desert plains that stretched inimitably around them. about noon, as they were riding through a thicket of the wild sage (artemisia tridentata), a brace of those singular birds, sage-cocks or prairie-grouse (tetrao urophasianus), the largest of all the grouse family, whirred up before the heads of their horses. françois, with his ever-ready gun, fired at them, but they were too distant for the shot; and the next moment both disappeared over the swells of the prairie. the sight only tantalised the unsuccessful hunters, and added to the hungry craving of appetites already sharp almost beyond endurance. they felt that there was no chance of getting anything to eat, before they should come up with the buffaloes. that was their only hope; and they spurred their horses afresh, and rode on as fast as the animals could travel.

towards night their hunger had increased to a painful degree; and the eyes of all wandered occasionally upon jeanette and the dog marengo. they began to contemplate the necessity of sacrificing one or other of these animals. it would be a sad alternative—as both the mule and the dog were looked upon more in the light of companions than slaves. both had done good service during the expedition. but for marengo, françois might never have been found; and jeanette, in addition to having satisfactorily accomplished the duty assigned to her, had saved them from an encounter with one of the cougars. but all these services must now be forgotten, when starvation was the alternative; and our adventurers began to talk seriously about which of these two faithful servants should be made the first victim. neither was fat. jeanette had never been so in all her life—at least so long as her present owners had been acquainted with her—and marengo had grown gaunt and bony upon this lengthened expedition. jeanette could not be otherwise than tough, and marengo looked anything but tender. so far as that was concerned, it might be a toss-up which of them was first “put to the knife.”

but other considerations had their weight with the boys. basil disliked parting with his hound, that for many years had been a great favourite, and the dog was endeared to all from late circumstances. his conduct at the time when françois was lost—his usefulness as a sentinel at many a lonely camp-fire—and his valuable services rendered upon other occasions, had fixed him firmly in the affections of his young masters; and they would have endured hunger to the utmost extremity rather than sacrifice him. jeanette, on the other hand, was but a mule—a selfish, wicked, kicking mule. this was true; but to them she had been a useful animal, and would not have kicked any one of them, although she would have kicked all the world besides. still the feeling with which jeanette was regarded was more a feeling of gratitude than of love. it was far different from the sentiment held towards marengo.

with these considerations passing through the minds of our hungry hunters, it is easy to guess the result of their deliberations. the sentence was at length pronounced—a unanimous one—jeanette must die!

poor old jeanette! she little knew what they were talking about. she little thought that her days were about being numbered—that the time was nigh when she should carry a pack no more. she little expected that she was about to kick up her heels upon the prairie for the last time—that in a few hours her life-blood would be let forth—and her old ribs be roasting and sputtering over a camp-fire!

yes, it was decreed that jeanette should die! but when and where this terrible tragedy was to take place, was not yet determined upon. at their first halting-place, of course; but where was that to be? for, after having resolved upon the death of jeanette, they travelled on for miles without arriving at any place where it would be possible to halt for the night! no water appeared, and without water they could not with safety encamp. early in the afternoon they had entered upon a strange tract, over which the road of the buffaloes led them. it was a part of the prairie—a series of low hills composed of pure gypsum. these extended around them, as far as our travellers could see, presenting on all sides a picture of alabaster whiteness. neither plant, nor tree, nor any sign of vegetable life relieved the monotonous uniformity of the landscape. turn to what side they might, their eyes were met by the lime-like surface of hill and dale, dazzling the sight with its milky whiteness. the sun, reflected upward, pierced their bodies, and parched them with thirst. they breathed a hot atmosphere filled with gypsum dust, that by the trampling of the buffalo herd had been reduced to an impalpable powder, and floated about suspended in the air. this added to the agony of their thirst; and it was difficult for them to tell whether they suffered most from the want of food, or the want of water!

how far might this singular tract extend? they could form no conjecture as to the distance. lucien had heard that such formations sometimes stretched for many miles. if so, they might never be able to cross it—thirsty and exhausted as both they and the animals were—for, eager to come up with the buffalo, they had rested but very little during the previous days. they began to labour under serious apprehensions. the appetite of thirst became stronger than that of hunger—its cravings more difficult to be endured.

guided by the buffalo-tracks, they rode gloomily on, in the midst of a white cloud that enveloped them throughout all that fearful journey. they had no difficulty in following the trail. the heavy dust showed where the drove had passed; and every here and there great circular hollows showed where the buffaloes had “wallowed.” the hope that these animals, guided by their usual instincts, had gone in the direction of water, to some degree sustained our travellers in their onward struggle.

the shades of evening were closing over the earth, and the alabaster hills were assuming an ashy blue colour, when the little cavalcade emerged from the dusty ravines of gypsum, and once more trod the green prairie. the country before them was still rolling, but they kept on along the well marked trail—their animals stepping more freely, as if inspired with new hope at the change which had taken place upon the surface. there was something in the appearance of the landscape ahead that led to the belief that water was not far distant; and, sure enough, it was not; for, on mounting the crest of a prairie-swell, over which ran the buffalo-trail, a small rivulet was espied in the glen below. at the sight, jeanette, as well as the three horses, pricked up their ears; and, making an effort to trot, were soon at the bottom of the hill, and up to their knees in the water.

it was fortunate for them that it proved a freshwater stream. had it been a salt one—and such are very common in the neighbourhood of these gypsum formations—they could never have gone farther. they would all have perished upon its banks.

but it was fresh water—cool and fresh—and our travellers first drank of it, and then bathed themselves in its flood, until they had washed their bodies free from the annoying gypsum dust. after this they set about making some arrangements for their night bivouac.

the copious draughts of water, which all of them had taken, in some measure relieved them from the painful sensations of hunger they had experienced; and they began to consider whether they might not be able to give jeanette a respite—at least until the morning. while deliberating upon this, they noticed that marengo had strayed away from them. they looked around, wondering what had become of him, or where he could have gone. they espied the hound at some distance up the stream, and apparently engaged with some object upon the bank. they all ran towards him. on arriving near the spot, they perceived that it was the skeleton of a large buffalo with which the dog was engaged. the poor brute, hungry as he was, could do but little else than lick it; for the wolves had not left as much meat upon it as would have filled the smallest of his teeth! even the pieces of torn skin that lay around had been chewed dry by these ravenous animals; and the bones appeared as free from flesh as if they had been scraped by a knife. had an anatomist been ordered to prepare the skeleton for a museum, he could not have cleaned it more effectually.

it was not very cheering to contemplate this useless skeleton; and the boys were about returning to their camping-place, when the idea occurred to lucien that the bones might, at least, yield a soup. he, of course, communicated this idea to the others, and it was at once agreed that they should boil them and try. it was quite a happy thought. no doubt the bones, which were fresh, and not yet dry, would make an excellent soup; and all three at once set about preparing to cook it. françois gathered sage-bushes to kindle a fire with, while basil got hold of lucien’s little hatchet, and set to work to separate the ribs and joints of the skeleton. lucien, seeing that there were several kinds of plants growing on the margin of the rivulet, went down to examine them—in hopes that he might find the wild onion or the prairie-turnip among them, or perhaps some other root or vegetable that might help to enrich their pottage.

while all three were engaged in their separate duties, a loud exclamation from basil drew the attention of his brothers. it was a shout of joy, followed by a wild laugh, like the laugh of a maniac!

françois and lucien looked up in affright—thinking that something disagreeable had happened—for they could not understand why basil should be laughing so loudly at such a time, and under such gloomy circumstances.

as they looked at him he still continued to laugh, waving the hatchet around his head as if in triumph.

“come here, brothers!” shouted he; “come here! ha! ha! ha! here’s a supper for three hungry individuals! ha! ha! ha! what shallow fellows we are, to be sure! why, we are as stupid as the donkey that preferred eating the hay with the bread and butter beside him. look here! and here! and there! there’s a supper for you. ha! ha! ha!”

lucien and françois had now arrived upon the ground; and seeing basil point to the great joints of the buffalo, and turn them over and over, at once understood the cause of his mirth. these joints were full of marrow!

“pounds of it,” continued basil; “the very tit-bits of the buffalo—enough to make suppers for a dozen of us; and yet we were going to sleep supperless, or the next thing to it—going to starve in the midst of plenty! and we have been travelling among such treasures for three days past! why, we deserve to starve for being so simple. but come, brothers! help me to carry these great joints to the fire—i’ll show you how to cook a supper.”

there are eight marrow-bones in the buffalo, containing several pounds of this substance. as basil had heard from the old hunters, it is esteemed the most delicious part of the animal; and is rarely left behind when a buffalo has been killed. the best method of preparing it is by simply roasting it in the bone; although the indians and trappers often eat it raw. the stomachs of our young hunters were not strong enough for this; and a couple of the shank-bones were thrown into the fire, and covered over with red cinders.

in due time the marrow was supposed to be sufficiently baked; and the bones having been cracked by lucien’s hatchet, yielded up their savoury store—which all three ate with a great relish. a cup of cool water washed it down; and around the camp-fire of the boy hunters thirst and hunger were now contemplated only as things of the past. jeanette was respited, without one dissentient voice.

our adventurers were surrounded once more with the cheerful atmosphere of hope. there was still enough of marrow in the remaining bones to last them for two days at the least; for this marrow is a most nourishing food. moreover, by following the buffalo-trail, they would be likely to fall in with other skeletons of these animals; and all apprehensions on the score of food now vanished from their minds. another fact, which the skeleton of the buffalo revealed to them, added to their joyful anticipations. they had observed on first going up to it—that the bones were still fresh! the wolves had not been long gone from it. it could not have been a long time killed. all this showed, that the buffaloes themselves had but very recently passed over the ground, and could not be far distant. these were cheering thoughts; and for a while the young hunters sat around the sage-fire, revolving them in their minds, and conversing upon them. then, having offered thanks to that being who had so many times miraculously preserved them, they rolled themselves in their blankets, and, notwithstanding a heavy shower of rain that fell, once more found the solace of a good night’s sleep.