Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Hunting -- United States; West (U.S.) -- Description and travel
When the travées are laden, the squaws, bent double under loads of wood
sufficient to break a porter's back, and calling to the dogs, which are
urged on by the buffalo-fed urchins in rear, lead the line of march. The
curs, taking advantage of the helpless state of their mistresses, turn a
deaf ear to their coaxings, lying down every few yards to rest, growling
and fighting with each other, in which encounters every cur joins the
_mêlée_, charging pell-mell into the yelping throng, upsetting the
squalling children, and making confusion worse confounded. Then, armed
with lodge-poles, the squaws, throwing down their loads, rush to the
rescue, dealing stalwart blows on the pugnacious curs, and finally
restoring something like order to the march.
"Tszoo--tszoo!" they cry, "wah, kashne, ceitcha--get on, you devilish
beasts--tszoo--tszoo!" and belaboring them without mercy, they start
them into a gallop, which, once commenced, is generally continued till
they reach their destination.
The Indian dogs are, however, invariably well treated by the squaws,
since they assist materially the everyday labors of these patient
overworked creatures, in hauling firewood to the lodge, and, on the
line of march, carrying many of the household goods and chattels, which
otherwise the squaw herself would have to carry on her back. Every lodge
possesses from half-a-dozen to a score,--some for draught and others
for eating--for dog-meat forms part and parcel of an Indian feast.
The former are stout wiry animals, half wolf half sheep-dog, and are
regularly trained to draught; the latter are of a smaller kind, more
inclined to fat, and embrace every variety of the genus cur. Many of the
southern tribes possess a breed of dogs entirely divested of hair, which
evidently have come from South America, and are highly esteemed for the
kettle. Their meat, in appearance and flavor, resembles young pork, but
far surpasses it in richness and delicacy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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