and as often and as much as he pleased, if there was anything left in the larder. Often a hungry sleeper would rise at night to satisfy his craving. The chance stroller or guest was always made welcome to what the lodge contained, and was first served. When the ears of Indian corn were in the milk they afforded a rich repast, either as eaten from the stalk or roasted before an extemporized fire.
As the natives did not use salt, either at their meals or in preserving meats or fish, they availed themselves of the sun's heat, the air, and fire, to dry any surplus of such food gathered when it was abundant among them. Some of the abounding salts of the prairies have impurities which impair their preservative qualities. Often, however, as the natives were generally improvident, or, still in conformity with Nature, trusted that each day would provide for itself as to “what they should eat,” they were reduced to extreme need. They bore the pangs of hunger with stiff, uncomplaining patience and philosophy, passing many nights and days without sustenance. In their utmost straits they would eat roots, bark, buds, and the skins of their own mantles and moccasons. In the western valleys Nature produced in luxuriant abundance a large variety of succulent and edible roots, and expanses of wild rice. As a last resort, reliance might be placed upon the somewhat stingy nutrition found in what is known as tripe de roche, — a sort of mossy mushroom which covers some of the damp rocks. When this was cooked with scraps of any kind of meat, or marrow bones, it was quite satisfying. Their own dogs, and in times of famine their ponies, are essential parts of the banquets of the Indians.
In the matter of apparel the Indian put himself into the same harmony with the promptings of Nature. He wore clothing, not as a covering or concealment, but for convenience, comfort, and necessity under the weather. He felt most at his ease when wholly free of it; nor was
