His only proof of intellect was in shrewdly avoiding all
labor, and availing himself of the toil of others. When on the march,
he always lagged behind the rest, leaving to them the task of breaking
a way through all difficulties and impediments, and leisurely and lazily
jogging along the track, which they had beaten through the snow. At the
evening encampment, when others were busy gathering fuel, providing for
the horses, and cooking the evening repast, this worthy Sancho of the
wilderness would take his seat quietly and cosily by the fire, puffing
away at his pipe, and eyeing in silence, but with wistful intensity of
gaze, the savory morsels roasting for supper.
When meal-time arrived, however, then came his season of activity. He
no longer hung back, and waited for others to take the lead, but
distinguished himself by a brilliancy of onset, and a sustained vigor
and duration of attack, that completely shamed the efforts of his
competitors--albeit, experienced trenchermen of no mean prowess. Never
had they witnessed such power of mastication, and such marvellous
capacity of stomach, as in this native and uncultivated gastronome.
Having, by repeated and prolonged assaults, at length completely
gorged himself, he would wrap himself up and lie with the torpor of an
anaconda; slowly digesting his way on to the next repast.
The gormandizing powers of this worthy were, at first, matters of
surprise and merriment to the travellers; but they soon became too
serious for a joke, threatening devastation to the fleshpots; and he
was regarded askance, at his meals, as a regular kill-crop, destined to
waste the substance of the party.
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