buffalo meat which fell to their lot. Despite the toughness
and tastelessness of the old bull meat, it was the first fresh meat they
had enjoyed since leaving Independence, with the exception of the few
who had shared in Hank's antelope, and its poor qualities were
overlooked. No one had a chance to gorge himself and to learn that
overeating of buffalo flesh causes no distress. They found the meat with
the fat and lean more intermixed, juicier, and of a coarser grain than
beef. The choice bits were from the tongue, the udder came next in
merit, followed by the hump-ribs, tenderloins, and marrow bones. They
were fortunate in the selection of the bulls which had been killed, for
they were quite fat and in this condition ran the cow meat a close race;
all but one old bull, which was tough and stringy beyond belief. Despite
the fact that the next camp spot was not very far ahead, the caravan
nooned on the open prairie for the cooking of the fresh meat.

The captain signalled for the four-square corral and the evolution was
creditably performed. The animals were unhitched and staked outside the
enclosure and soon many fires were burning around the encampment and the
savory odors of broiling buffalo meat arose on all sides. Coffee pots
steeped or boiled at every fire, for coffee was the one unstinted drink
of the caravan. It was not long before the encampment was surrounded by
groups seated around the fires, most of the men eating with their
fingers, Indian fashion, and from the universal satisfaction shown it
was evident that buffalo meat had been given a high place by every
palate. In contrast to a steady diet of bacon it was a feast fit for
epicures. The travelers cared little about their good fortune in finding
cows with the first small herd, instead of the usual vanguard or outpost
of bulls, for the cows had been there and they had obtained two of them.
Two hours later the caravan was moving again, and late that afternoon
reached the Little Arkansas, where the first trouble with a treacherous
river bed was experienced.

Knowing what was in store for them, the captain and his lieutenants went
ahead with a force of workers to cut a way through the steep banks and
to bridge the muddy bed. They found that the banks had been cut by the
preceding caravan, but the causeway by now was useless, except as a
foundation for a new one. The stream was not very wide, but made up for
that by the meanness of its bottom. The trees and br