"'Meat's meat,' the trapper said, and he ate what meat was at hand, from his own moccasins, parfleche, and lariats, in 'starvin' times,' on through a wide variety of mountain game, of which some tidbits were memorable to gastronomes—boiled beaver tail, 'panther,' and as an acquired taste young Oglala puppy. But when coming out from the states you shot your first fat cow, or when after finding no buffalo for some weeks you reached them at last, you touched the very summit of delight. Nor can there be any doubt that buffalo meat, an indescribably rich, tender, fiberless, and gamey beef, was the greatest meat man has ever fed on. The mountain man boiled some cuts, notably the hump, and seared or sautéed others, but mostly he cooked them by slow roast, skewered on his ramrod or on a stick. Every man to his own fire…and no man with more tableware than his belt-knife—gravy, juices, and blood running down his face, forearms and, shirt."