The Travels and Adventures of Monsieur Violet in California, Sonora, and Western Texas by Frederick Marryat

We had now entered a tract of land similar to that which we had travelled over when on our route from the Wakoes to the Comanches. The prairie was often intersected by chasms, the bottoms of which were perfectly dry, so that we could procure water but once every twenty-four hours, and that, too often so hot and so muddy, that even our poor horses would not drink it freely. They had, however, the advantage over us in point of feeding, for the grass was sweet and tender, and moistened during night by the heavy dews; as for ourselves, we were beginning to starve in earnest.

We had anticipated regaling ourselves with the juicy humps of the buffaloes which we should kill, but although we had entered the very heart of their great pasture-land, we had not met with one, nor even with a ground-hog; a snake, or a frog. One evening, the pangs of hunger became so sharp that we were obliged to chew tobacco and pieces of leather to allay our cravings; and we determined that if, the next day at sunset we had no better fortune, we would draw lots to kill one of our horses. That evening we could not sleep, and as murmuring was of no avail, the divine entertained us with a Texan story, just, as he said, to pump the superfluous air out of his body. I shall give it in his own terms: --