“The morning brought with it no joy. We had arrived at the westernmost limit of the ‘gigantic Leicestershire’ to which buffalo at this season extend, and could hope to see no trace of them between Cotton-wood Station and the Pacific. I can not, therefore, speak ex cathedra concerning this, the noblest ‘venerie'” of the West: almost every one who has crossed the prairies, except myself, can. Captain Stansbury will enlighten the sportsman upon the approved method of bryttling the beasts, and elucidate the mysteries of the ‘game-beef,’ marrow-bone and depuis, tongue and tender-loin, bass and hump, hump-rib and liver, which latter, by-the-by, is not unfrequently eaten raw, with a sprinkling of gall (‘Prairie bitters’ made of a pint of water and a quarter of a gill of buffalo gall are considered an elixir vita by old voyageurs), by the white hunter emulating his wild rival, as does the European in Abyssinia.”
