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Updated: June 27, 2025
When I was sixteen I toyed with things like that." "You forget, avuncular," Kit retorted, "that I wasn't raised on bear-meat." "And I'll toy with it when I'm sixty." "You've got to show me." John Bellew did. He was forty-eight, but he bent over the sack, applied a tentative, shifting grip that balanced it, and, with a quick heave, stood erect, the somersaulted sack of flour on his shoulder.
In looking over his pack that morning for the purpose of throwing away any useless article, he unexpectedly found a small bag containing about a half-pound of dried bear-meat. Fastened to the meat was a pencilled note from his wife, begging him to save the hidden treasure until his hour of direst need, since it might then be the means of saving his life.
And this was all that was left of the poor prong-horn all that was left of that beautiful form that, only a few moments before, was bounding over the prairie in the full pride of health, strength, and swiftness! The boys contemplated his remains with feelings of disappointment and chagrin; for, although there was still plenty of bear-meat, they had anticipated supping upon fresh venison.
All three slept soundly throughout the live-long night. They were awake by grey dawn, and felt quite refreshed. They watered their horses, and prepared their breakfast of jerked bear-meat. This is not bad eating at any time; but to appetites like theirs it was a luxury indeed; and they broke their fast cleverly enough eating nearly a pound a-piece. They all felt quite merry and jocund.
The eyes of the wolves continued to glare upon him from all sides; but he did not dread them any more, than if they had been so many hares. There appeared to be a very large pack of them though. The odoriferous bear-meat had, no doubt, collected all there were for miles around in addition to numbers that had been following the trail for days past.
Shorty was the first to call a halt. "We been hittin' the trail for over twelve hours," he said. "Smoke, I'm plum willin' to say I'm good an' tired. An' so are you. An' I'm free to shout that I can sure hang on to this here pasear like a starvin' Indian to a hunk of bear-meat. But this poor girl here can't keep her legs no time if she don't get something in her stomach.
"Dog-Tooth's dogs were stuffed with meat, and the men who lay in the sun and did no work were rolling in fat, and, at the same time, there were little children crying themselves to sleep with hunger biting them with every wail." Deer-Runner was spurred by the recital of famine to tear out a chunk of bear-meat and broil it on a stick over the coals.
Sprague struggled with the steering sweep for a quarter of an hour, and then looked appealingly at Kit, who relieved him. "My arms are fairly broken with the strain of it," Sprague muttered apologetically. "You never ate bear-meat, did you?" Kit asked sympathetically. "What the devil do you mean?" "Oh, nothing; I was just wondering."
The hogs and pigs came squealing about the door for admission; and the cattle and horses in the valley, terrified by the violence of elemental battle, ran backwards and forwards, bellowing and snorting. In comfortable quarters, we roasted and enjoyed our bear-meat and venison, and left the wind, rain, lightning, and thunder to play their pranks as best suited them, which they did all night.
Yellow-Head, too, was made hungry by the recital and broiled a piece of bear-meat on the coals. "But why didn't you rise up, all of you, and kill Three-Legs and Pig-Jaw and Big-Fat and the rest and get enough to eat?" Afraid-in- the-Dark demanded. "Because we could not understand," Long-Beard answered.
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