and his sons departed
in the manner mentioned in the preceding chapter, two men were intently occupied
in a swale that lay along the borders of a little run, just out of cannon-shot
from the encampment, discussing the merits of a savoury bison's hump, that had
been prepared for their palates with the utmost attention to the particular
merits of that description of food. The choice morsel had been judiciously
separated from the adjoining and less worthy parts of the beast, and, enveloped
in the hairy coating provided by nature, it had duly undergone the heat of the
customary subterraneous oven, and was now laid before its proprietors in all the
culinary glory of the Prairies. So far as richness, delicacy, and wildness of
flavour, and substantial nourishment were concerned, the viand might well have
claimed a decided superiority over the meretricious cookery and laboured
compounds of the most renowned artist; though the service of the dainty was
certainly achieved in a manner far from artificial. It would appear that the two
fortunate mortals, to whose happy lot it fell to enjoy a meal in which health
and appetite lent so keen a relish to the exquisite food of the American
deserts, were far from being insensible of the advantage they possessed.
    The one, to whose knowledge in the culinary art the other was indebted for
his banquet, seemed the least disposed of the two to profit by his own skill. He
ate, it is true, and with a relish; but it was always with the moderation with
which age is apt to temper the appetite. No such restraint, however, was imposed
on the inclination of his companion. In the very flower of his days and in the
vigour of manhood, the homage that he paid to the work of his more aged friend's
hands was of the most profound and engrossing character. As one delicious morsel
succeeded another he rolled his eyes towards his companion, and seemed to
express that gratitude which he had not speech to utter, in looks of the most
benignant nature.
    »Cut more into the heart of it, lad,« said the trapper, for it was the
venerable inhabitant of those vast wastes, who had served the bee-hunter with
the banquet in question; »cut more into the centre of the piece; there you will
find the genuine riches of natur'; and that without need from spices, or any of
your biting mustard to give it a foreign relish.«
    »If I had but a cup of metheglin,« said Paul, stopping to perform the
necessary operation of breathing, »I should swear this was the strongest meal