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Updated: May 5, 2025
"I know ye'ud do what ye could to help us out, but I didn't think them Injuns 'ud ever fergit what was done to 'em." "Yes, I mean every word I say. And what's more, the Indians are willing to give what food they can to the miners. They have a fair supply of dried fish and moose-meat, which will help some." In reply Sol stretched out a huge hand. "Put it thar!" he said, and tears stood in his eyes.
Deep in the heart of the forest, under the shelter of a ridge of land heavily timbered, a great fire of logs and brushwood was burning; and around it the Indians sat, eating their moose-meat and smoking their pipes.
Puffing and breathless she scolded them for not lighting the lamp and bustled about the place, declaring that the two watchers should have made tea and that it took an experienced mother of many to know how to handle things. "I have made strong soup vid moose-meat," she told them. "Heem do Monsieur Hugo moch good. I put on de stove now an' get hot."
If only Old Pete would come, he would go, for she had great confidence in the worthy prospector. She wondered why the delay, for he had expected to return in a short time with a supply of moose-meat. Then, the miners' fear concerning the arrival of the natives oppressed her heavily.
"But tha's not moose-meat mushed them dogs on so fast an' trim to-day. No, sir. Tha's Jan bes' dog-musher in 'Merica to-day, now I'm tellin' you. He don' got Beel to upset things to-day, and, by gar! you see how he make them other dogs mush. You don't need no wheep, don't need no musher, so's you got Jan a-leadin', now I'm tellin' you."
He had no weapon with him but his knife and his light axe, because his rifle was apt to be a useless burden in winter, when he had always traps or pelts to carry. And it was rash for one man, without his gun, to rob a wolf-pack of its kill! But the trapper wanted fresh moose-meat. Hastily and skilfully he began to cut from the carcass the choicest portions of haunch and loin.
He was oppressed by the weight and the torment of this thing called life, and still more was he oppressed by the fear of death. His was that eternal tragedy of the aged, with whom the joy of life has departed and the instinct for death has not come. When my moose-meat spluttered rowdily in the frying-pan, I noticed old Ebbits's nostrils twitch and distend as he caught the food-scent.
Sometimes they would have too much moose-meat, fish, or grouse on hand, 'and would we take just a little to keep it from spoiling. My father knows very little about hunting, but one day Pete took him into the woods after a moose. The animal was killed, and Pete would insist that my father had shot it, and, of course, he came in for a liberal portion of the game.
Moose-meat, combining the flavor of beefsteak and the white of turtle, appears on the table. Moose-horns with full explanations, so that the buyer can play the part of hunter, are for sale. Tame mooselings are exhibited. Sportsmen at Kinneo can choose a matinée with the trout or a soirée with the moose. The chief fact of a moose's person is that pair of strange excrescences, his horns.
"Sorrow, what have you got for us to-day?" "There is the moose-meat, Massa." "Let that hang over the stern, we shall get tired of it." "Den, Massa, dar is de Jesuit-priest; by golly, Massa, dat is a funny name. Yah, yah, yah! dis here niggar was took in dat time. Dat ar a fac." "Well, the turkey had better hang over too." "Sposin' I git you fish dinner to-day, Massa?" "What have you got?"
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