This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1856 edition. Excerpt: ... a sumptuous repast off the ribs of the antelope, cooked by the inimitable John Hunter, the Shawnee, the very pink of perfection in the art of Indian cookery. July 20th.--Our Indian scouts having reported the country beyond our camp, in the direction we were traveling, inaccessible to our heavy train, the ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1856 edition. Excerpt: ... a sumptuous repast off the ribs of the antelope, cooked by the inimitable John Hunter, the Shawnee, the very pink of perfection in the art of Indian cookery. July 20th.--Our Indian scouts having reported the country beyond our camp, in the direction we were traveling, inaccessible to our heavy train, the Captain determined to rest during the day, whilst preparations were made to explore further with a small party mounted and accompanied by pack mules. We now found how judicious was the filling of our waterbarrels. The water in the river was undrinkable by man, being salt and bitter. Our animals drank it, but with no good results, only as a necessity. It gave them cramps, made them restless and emaciated, and in the end would have proved fatal. We had plenty of water in our barrels and were quite comfortable, though the day was oppressively hot; thermometer over one hundred in the shade; but thanks to the delicious breeze of the plains, we suffered but little. This is a striking and very agreeable feature in a prairie tour; the morning opens close and sultry until about nine o'clock, when a breeze springs up, which, not altering the height of the thermometer, renders a grade of one hundred in the shade, or higher, not only tolerable but pleasant. This continues throughout the day, and the nights are cool enough for a blanket. ANXIETIES. 129 We were now, by barometer, fifteen hundred feet above the level of the ocean. Our horses had lately become a source of great anxiety to us. Accustomed to be cornfed and stabled, they had fallen off terribly since fed entirely on grass and picketed in the open air, but this was not all; no horse should ever, on a trip of the kind, be ridden out of a walk, and then only in extreme cases; he should be allowed the...
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