THE " PEMMICAN." 363 



being up-hill, at times very steep, I made the trip 

 partly on horseback and partly on foot ; and after four 

 or five hours' hard travelling, we had evidently attained 

 a very considerable height, for here we met with some 

 large patches of snow, which made it difficult to follow 

 the Indian trail, in fact, more than once we had to 

 retrace our steps. By the time we had reached the 

 top of the mountain ridge, at an altitude of 7,500 feet, 

 I felt very much exhausted, and was glad to find 

 shelter in a wretched wooden cabin, inhabited by a 

 professional hunter of the name of Perigault, who was 

 very profuse in relating some wonderful exploits of his 

 in the Sierra Nevada. The only provision procurable 

 consisted of some strips of dried bison, which an old 

 hag fried, and served along with a black bottle con- 

 taining some awful concoction of spirits. I was too 

 tired and hungry to inquire into the origin of either 

 meat or drink. Still, I felt I had never tasted any- 

 thing so vile. There is another mode of preserving the 

 flesh of bison the Indians are very fond of, namely, 

 having dried it in the sun till it becomes black and hard, 

 it is pounded with the fat of the animal, and converted 

 into Pemmican, a nourishing food, which will keep for 

 years. After half an hour's rest I continued my ride, 

 leaving the Glacier point a thousand feet above, and 

 rapidly descended into the valley. The scenery 



