“Oui, oui! bien, Monsieur Capitaine,” said Gode, hurrying in with a multitude of viands. The “Canadien” was always in his element when there was plenty to cook and eat.
We were soon engaged on fresh steaks (of wild cows), roasted ribs of venison, dried buffalo tongues, tortillas, and coffee. The coffee and tortillas were the labours of the pueblo, in the preparation of which viands he was Gode’s master.
But Gode had a choice dish, un petit morceau, in reserve, which he brought forth with a triumphant flourish.
“Voici, messieurs?” cried he, setting it before us.
“What is it, Gode?”
“Une fricassée, monsieur.”
“Of what?”
“Les frog; what de Yankee call boo-frog!”
“A fricassee of bull-frogs!”
“Oui, oui, mon maître. Voulez vous?”