Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1945-03-09
CHAPTER VII

angie In the DODSled and everything
was ready, Pa would go to the house
and come out with his rifle and brass
powder flask with the measuring de-
vice. II expect you'd better 60 in
the house for while, Homer"
was glad to, for I couldn't bear
to see what was going to happen.
Inside the house there was a tense
ness, lowering of voices. One of
the women, who had come to help
my mother, would look out the win
dow and say, They're in the hog
lot now"
They would try to talk neighbor-
hood news, but it would be in sub
dued voices and there'd be silences.
Then my mother would begin to
whet knife on a crock. Suddenly,
sharp and clear on the winter air,
would come shot then the
sound of a man running, and I
would know he had knife in his
hand and it would seem to me
Just couldn't live through the next
few moments. There would be an
other shot, and another three
hogs now. Then there would be a
feeling of relief, for we all knew
this was the last. The women would
begin to talk again, but a little too
fast. l would open the door; the
smell Of powder would still be on the
air.
The men would come dragging one
OF the hogs by the forelegs to the
sled, and in a few moments the
animal would be in the scalding wa
ter and the men would 60 "Hueh!"
all together so as to get the right
timing for the animal to slosh up
and down in the barrel. Pa would
take some of the hair between his
thumb and finger and give it pull.
lone more time, boys"
At last the animals would be
dressed and hanging on the gam
brels. The worst part of butchering
would be over, for it didn't seem so
bad now as it had when the hogs
were alive and the men were ad-
vancing in the lot. The faintness I
had felt would be gone and I'd be
thinking about the good eating that
was coming. And sod everybody
else. Lots of talk, now, about eat
ing.
AS the meat was being cut, the
women would strip the castings, turn
them inside out, scrape them, and
put them to soak in salt water.
Sausage making was best of all.
Mostly lean meat trimmed from the
hams and shoulders and some from
the tenderloin. When it was ready,
the grinder would be brought and
everybody would gather around, as
If it was the opening of circus. My
mother was the one who fed the
meat into the grinder and l was the
one who had to turn the damned
thing. On a chair, beside her, would
be the salt and pepper in bowls,
but the sage was in the bag it was
cured in. My mother was proud of
her ability to mix the seasonings
just right. She knew the amount of
sage to put in; if too much went in,
it gave the sausage an old taste.
At last the day would be over.
and the neighbors, each with a piece
of fresh meat, would be starting
home. The house, which had been
so full of excitement, would seem
lonely. Everywhere would be the
peculiar, unpleasant smell of fresh
meat.
The castings would be stacked in
the pantry, so they wouldn't freeze,
and would forget about them. Then
some morning, about two weeks lat
er, as l would be coming back from
helping with the chores there would
be a perfectly captivating smell
hanging on the air-the smell of fry
ing sausage!
There would be Ma, when opened
the door, bending over the stove.
She would take the lid off the skillet,
turn the cakes over with fork, then
put the lid back on again. The
smell would get more and more en-
thralling and I'd get hungrier and
hungrier.
At last breakfast would be ready.
There in the center of the table
would be the redolent, brown cakes.
We'd all take one-me pretty fast
and Ma would look at Pa and saw.
"How do you like it, Amos?" Pa
would eat a moment, then say.
"Finel You got just about the right
amount of seasoning" Then he'd
look at me in that sly way of his
and say, Homer, do you think you'll
be able to masticate a bit of it,"
After this first inspection, Ma
would pass the buckwheat cakes
and l would cut a slice of honey.
spread it over the cakes and let il
run down the sides. On top of this
smoking mound I would put my
sausage. then haul my knife across
and mix sausage and buckwheat
and honey all up together. tell you
a nyaa uoodI