Children

Quotes relating to meat, fat, hunting.

I was born in Illinois in 1842. I crossed the plains by ox team and came to Utah in 1850. My parents settled in Grantsville, a pioneer village just south of the Great Salt Lake. To protect themselves from the Indians, the settlers grouped their houses close together and built a high wall all around them. Some of the men would stand guard while others worked in the fields. The cattle had to be herded very closely during the day, and corralled at night with a strong guard to keep them from being stolen. But even with all our watchfulness we lost a good many of them. The Indians would steal in and drive our horses and cows away and kill them. Some times they killed the people, too.

The savages that gave us the most trouble were called Gosiutes. They lived in the deserts of Utah and Nevada. Many of them had been banished into the desert from other tribes because of crimes they had committed. The Gosiutes were a mixed breed of good and bad Indians.

They were always poorly clad. In the summer they went almost naked; but in winter they dressed themselves in robes made by twisting and tying rabbit skins together. These robes were generally all they had to wear during the day and all they had to sleep in at night.

They often went hungry, too. The desert had but little food to give them. They found some edible roots, the sego, and tintic, which is a kind of Indian potato, like the artichoke; they gathered sunflower and balzamoriza seeds, and a few berries. The pitch pine tree gave them pine nuts; and for meat they killed rabbits, prairie dogs, mice, lizards, and even snakes. Once in a great while they got a deer or an antelope. The poor savages had a cold and hungry time of it; we could hardly blame them for stealing our cattle and horses to eat. Yes, they ate horses, too. That was the reason they had no ponies, as did the Bannocks and Shoshones and other tribes.

A few tame Indians hung around the settlements begging their living. The people had a saying, “It is cheaper to feed them than to fight them,” so they gave them what they could; but the leaders thought it would be better to put them to work to earn their living; so some of the whites hired the Indians. My father made a bargain with old Tosenamp (White-foot) to help him. The Indian had a squaw and one papoose, a boy about my age. They called him Pantsuk.

At that time my father owned a small herd of sheep, and he wanted to move out on his farm, two miles from the settlement, so he could take better care of them. Old Tosenamp thought it would be safe to do so, as most of the Indians there were becoming friendly, and the wild Indians were so far away that it was thought they would not bother us; so we moved out on the farm.

Father put the Indian boy and me to herding the sheep. I had no other boy to play with. Pantsuk and I became greatly attached to each other. I soon learned to talk his language, and Pantsuk and I had great times together for about two years. We trapped chipmunks and birds, shot rabbits with our bows and arrows, and had other kinds of papoose sport.

Some months after this the poor little fellow took sick. We did all we could for him, but he kept getting worse until he died. It was hard for me to part with my dear little Indian friend. I loved him as much as if he had been my own brother.

After Pantsuk died, I had to herd the sheep by myself. The summer wore along very lonely for me, until about the first of August, when a band of Shoshone Indians came and camped near where I was watching my sheep. Some of them could talk the Gosiute language, which I had learned from my little Indian brother. The Indians seemed to take quite a fancy to me, and they would be with me every chance they could get. They said they liked to hear me talk their language, for they had never heard a white boy talk it as well as I could.

One day an Indian rode up to the place where I was herding. He had with him a little pinto pony. I thought it was the prettiest animal I ever saw. The Indian could talk Gosiute very well. He asked me if I did not want [10]to ride the pony. I told him that I had never ridden a horse. He said that the pony was very gentle, and helped me to mount it. Then he led it around for a while. The next day he came again with the pony and let me ride it. Several other Indians were with him this time. They took turns leading the pony about while I rode it. It was great sport for me. I soon got so I could ride it without their leading it. They kept coming and giving me this fun for several days.

One day, after I had ridden till I was tired, I brought the pony back to the Indian who had first come, and he asked me if I did not want to keep it.

“I would rather have that pony,” I replied, “than anything else I ever saw.”

“You may have it,” he said, “if you will go away with us.”

I told him I was afraid to go. He said he would take good care of me and would give me bows and arrows and all the buckskin clothes I needed. I asked him what they had to eat. He said they had all kinds of meat, and berries, and fish, sage chickens, ducks, geese, and rabbits. This sounded good to me. It surely beat living on “lumpy dick”(Made by cooking moistened flour in milk.) and greens, our usual pioneer fare.

“Our papooses do not have to work,” he went on, “they have heap fun all the time, catching fish and hunting and riding ponies.”

That looked better to me than herding a bunch of sheep alone in the sagebrush. I told him I would think it over. That night I talked with old Tosenamp. The Indians had tried to get him to help them induce me to go with them. He refused; but he did tell me that they would not hurt me and would treat me all right. The next day I told them I would go.

My parents knew nothing about it. They would never have consented to my going. And it did look like a foolish, risky thing to do; but I was lonely and tired and hungry for excitement, and I yielded to the temptation. In five days the Indians were to start north to join the rest of their tribe. This Indian was to hide for two days after the rest had gone and then meet me at a bunch of willows about a mile above my father’s house after dark with the little pinto pony. The plan was carried out, as you will see. I went with them, and for two years I did not see a white man. This was in August, 1854. I was just about twelve years old at the time.

The night came at last when we were to leave. Just after dark I slipped away from the house and started for the bunch of willows where I was to meet the Indian. When I got there, I found two Indians waiting for me instead of one. The sight of two of them almost made me weaken and turn back; but I saw with them my little pinto pony and it gave me new courage. They had an old Indian saddle on the pony with very rough rawhide thongs for stirrup straps. At a signal from them, I jumped on my horse and away we went. Our trail led towards the north along the western shore of the Great Salt Lake.

The Indians wanted to ride fast. It was all right at first; but after a while I got very tired. My legs began to hurt me, and I wanted to stop, but they urged me along till the peep of day, when we stopped by some very salt springs. I was so stiff and sore that I could not get off my horse, so one of them lifted me off and stood me on the ground, but I could hardly stand up. The rawhide [14]straps had rubbed the skin off my legs till they were raw. The Indians told me that if I would take off my trousers and jump into the salt springs it would make my legs better; but I found that I could not get them off alone; they were stuck to my legs. The Indians helped me, and after some very severe pain we succeeded in getting them off. A good deal of skin came with them.

I ate some duck and dried meat and felt better.

We traveled all day over a country that was more like the bottom of an old lake than anything else. We camped that night by another spring. The Indians lifted me from my horse, put me down on a robe and started a fire. Then they caught some fish and broiled them again on the coals. It was a fine supper we had that night.

The next morning I felt pretty well used up; but when I had eaten some fish and a big piece of dried elk meat for breakfast, I felt more like traveling. Then we started again.

The old squaw put her hand on my head and began to say something pitiful to me, and I began to cry. She cried, too, and taking me by the arm, led me into the tepee, and pointed to a nice bed the chief’s wife had made for me. I lay down on the bed and sobbed myself to sleep. When I awoke, this new mother of mine brought [17]me some soup and some fresh deer meat to eat. I tell you it tasted good.

The next morning my new mother thought she would give me a good breakfast. They had brought some flour from the settlements, and she tried to make me some bread, such as I had at home. They had no soda, nothing but flour and water, so the bread turned out to be pretty soggy. I think she didn’t like it very well when she found I didn’t eat it, but I simply couldn’t choke it down. I did make a good meal, however, of the fried sage chicken and the fresh service berries that she brought with the bread.

Nothing else of importance happened until we reached Big Hole Basin. There I saw the first buffalo I had seen since crossing the plains. Seven head of them appeared one morning on a hill about a mile away. Ten Indians started after them. One, having a wide, blade-like spear-head attached to a long shaft, would ride up to a buffalo and cut the hamstrings of both legs, then the others would rush up and kill the wounded animal.

About fifteen squaws followed the hunters to skin the buffaloes and get the meat. Mother and I went with them. The squaws would rip the animals down the back from head to tail, then rip them down the belly and take off the top half of the hide and cut away all the meat on that side from the bones. They would tie ropes to the feet of the carcass and turn it over with their ponies, to strip off the skin and flesh from the other side in the same way.

The meat was then carried to camp to be[23] sliced in thin strips and hung up to dry. When it was about half dry, the squaws would take a piece at a time and pound it between two stones till it was very tender. It was then hung up again to dry thoroughly. The dried meat was put into a sack and kept for use in the winter and during the general gatherings of the tribe. The older it got the better it was. This is the way the Indians cured all of their buffalo meat. Washakie had about five hundred pounds of such meat for his own family when we reached Deer Lodge Valley, now in Montana, the place of our great encampment.

Washakie’s wife was there and she told me to dash ahead and tell the chief to hurry back. When he came, he ordered the band to stop and pitch camp. We had to stay there a week to let mother get well enough to travel again. There were a great many antelope in the valley and plenty of fish in the stream by the camp. When mother would go to sleep, I would go fishing. When she awoke Hanabi would call, “Yagaki come,” and I would get back in double-quick time.

One day while we were camped here waiting for mother to get better, I went out with Washakie and the other Indians to chase antelope. About fifty of us circled around [31]a bunch and took turns chasing them. The poor little animals were gradually worn out by this running and finally they would drop down one after another, hiding their heads under the bushes, while the Indians shot them to death with their bows and arrows. I killed two myself. When I got home and told mother about it, she bragged about me so much that I thought I was a “heap big Injun.”

Mother’s arm soon got well enough for her to travel, for the medicine man had fixed it up very well, so we took up our journey again. There were a great many buffaloes and antelope too, where we next pitched camp. We stayed there for about three weeks. During the times that she could not watch me, mother had Washakie take me out on his hunting trips. That just suited me. It was lots of fun to watch the Indian with the big spear dash up and cut the hamstrings of the great animals. When they had been crippled in this way, we would rush up and shoot arrows into their necks until they dropped dead. The first day we killed six, two large bulls and four cows.

I told Washakie that my bow was too small to kill buffaloes with. He laughed and said I should have a bigger one. When we got back to camp, he told some Indians what I had said and one very old Indian, whose name was Morogonai, gave me a very fine bow and another Indian gave me eight good arrows. I felt very proud then; I told mother that the next time I went out I would kill a whole herd of buffaloes. She said she knew I would, but she did not know what they could do with all the meat.

Washakie said that I was just like the rest of the white men. They would kill buffaloes as long as there were any in sight and leave their carcasses over the prairies for the wolves. He said that was not the way of the Indians. They killed only what they needed and saved all the meat and hides.

“The Great Spirit,” he said, “would not like it if we slaughtered the game as the whites do. It would bring bad luck, and the Indians would go hungry if they killed the deer and buffaloes when they were not needed for food and clothing.”

Two or three days after this we went out again and killed two more buffaloes. When we got back mother asked how many I had killed. I told her that I shot twice at them and I believed I had hit one. She said that I would be the best hunter in the tribe afterwhile, and some day, she said, I would be a big chief.

We now started for the elk country. When we got there, the Indians killed about one hundred elk and a few bear; but by that time it was getting so cold that we set out for our winter quarters. After traveling a few days we reached a large river, called by the Indians Piatapa, by the whites the Jefferson River; it is now in Montana. Here we pitched camp to stay during the “snowy moons.”

Most of the buffaloes by this time had left for their winter range; but once in a while we saw a few as they passed our camp. The Indians did not bother them, however, because we had plenty of dried meat, and for fresh meat there were many white-tail deer that we could snare by hanging loops of rawhide over their trails through the willows. There were also a great many grouse and sage hens about in the brush. I have killed as many as six or seven of these a day with my bow and arrows.

My old mother also told me many things that happened when she was a little girl. She said that her father was a Shoshone, and her mother a Bannock. She said she was sixty-two “snows” (years) old when I came. She had had four children, three boys and a girl. When the girl was seven years old, she was dragged to death by a horse. Her two sons were killed by the snowslide, so Washakie and I were the only ones she had left.

For three or four more days we all traveled south again. The game was plentiful here, elk, deer, antelope, and buffalo, so we camped for several days and stocked up with fresh meat.

It was a great game country, too. We could see buffaloes at any time and in any direction that we looked. There were herds of antelope over the flats. I had great fun running them. Washakie said that I was riding my horse too much, that he was getting thin. He told me to turn the pony out, and he would give me another horse. I was very glad to let my little pinto have a rest and get fat again.

The next morning I went with mother and another squaw to get the elk. Washakie asked me if I thought I could find it. I told him that I knew I could, so we started and I led them right to it. As we were skinning the elk, mother said that I had spoiled the skin by shooting it so full of holes. But the meat was fat and tender.

The Indians killed a great many elk, deer, and moose while in this valley, and the squaws had all they could do tanning the skins and drying the meat. I asked Washakie if he was planning to winter in this valley.

“Oh, no,” he replied. “The snow falls too deep here. After the buffalo get fat, and we kill all we want for our winter use, we will go a long way west out of the buffalo country, but where there are plenty of deer and antelope and fish. Some of the fish,” he said, “are as long as you are.”

Berries were getting ripe, so we papooses would go with our mothers up in the hills and gather them to dry. It was great fun.

By this time we had gathered most of the berries that grew along the foothills; the squaws were afraid to go farther into the mountains after the bear excitement; so then they stopped berry picking and went to work in earnest tanning buckskin and drying meat for winter use. The Indians quit hunting for elk and deer; for they already had all of the skins that the women could get ready for the trading trip they had planned.

It was the custom of the tribe to make a journey almost every fall to Salt Lake City, and other White settlements, and swap their buckskin and buffalo robes for red blankets, beads, ammunition, and other things they needed. Mother and Hanabi worked all day and away into the night to get their skins ready in time, and I helped them all I could. I got an old horse and dragged down enough wood to last while we stayed there. I carried all the water for them, and no kid dared to call me a squaw either.

Finally the time came for us to begin killing buffaloes for our winter’s supply of meat. We did not have to hunt them, however, for we could see them at any time in almost any direction. Many a time I went out with Washakie to watch the hunters kill the buffaloes. Washakie wanted only five and we soon got them; but it took mother and Hanabi a good many days to tan their hides and get the meat ready for winter.

Mother was afraid that I would get sick from not having bread and milk to eat, for I told her that was what I always had for supper when I was home. She thought that eating meat all the time would not agree with me and would make me unhealthy. Often she would have fried fish and fried chickens or ducks for supper. When I first went to live with her, she made a small sack and tied it to my saddle. She would keep this sack full of the best dried fish when we were traveling, so that I could eat if I got hungry; for she said that I could not go all day without eating anything, as the Indians often did. Every morning she would empty my lunch sack and refill it with fresh food. She soon found out what I liked best, and she always had it for me; so you see I had plenty to eat, even if I was with Indians; and that is more than a great many white children had at that time.

I was very healthy while I was with the Indians.

Spring came at last. We moved down the river about fifteen miles where we could get better grass for our horses. Here were plenty of white-tailed deer and antelope, some elk, and a few mountain sheep. Ducks and geese also were plentiful.

We stayed here until about the middle of May. The big fish they had told me about began to come up the river. And they were really big ones; two of them made all the load I could carry. They must have weighed thirty or thirty-five pounds each. Mother and Hanabi dried about two hundred pounds of these fish. I afterwards learned that they were salmon. The first that came up were fat and very good, but they kept coming thicker and thicker until they were so thin that they were not fit to eat.

The Indians killed a great many black-tailed deer and antelope and dried the meat. I think Washakie and I killed seventeen while we stayed here.

While we were staying here, one of the War Chief’s boys was accidentally shot and killed. Oh, what crying we had to do! Every one in camp who could raise a yelp had to cry for about five days. I had to mingle my gentle voice with the rest of the mourners. They killed three horses and buried them and his bow and arrows with him. The horses were for him to ride to the Happy Hunting Grounds. When they got ready to bury him, every one in camp had to go up to him and put a hand on his head and say he was sorry to have him leave us. When it came my turn, I went into our tepee and would not come out. Mother came after me. I told her I would not go, that I was not sorry to see him go, for he was no good anyhow.

“Don’t say that so they will hear it,” she said. Then she went back and made excuses for me.

They took him up to a high cliff and put him in a crevice with his bedding, a frying pan, an ax, his bow and arrows, and some dried buffalo meat. After this they covered him with rocks. When they got back to camp, they let out the most pitiful howls I ever heard. I joined them too, just as loud as I could scream, as if I was the most broken-hearted one in the camp, but it seemed so foolish to keep up this howling, as they did for five days. I got so hoarse I could hardly talk.

Here we did nothing but fish. The buffalo were not fat enough to kill, and besides, we had all of the dried elk and deer meat we wanted. It was a beautiful place to camp, and we had the finest of grass for our horses.

I broke a few more colts, two for mother and four for Washakie. Our horses by this time were getting fat and looking fine, but my little pinto was the prettiest one of all. Hardly a day passed but some Indian would try to trade me out of him. One Indian offered me two good horses if I would swap, but I thought too much of the pony to part with him even for a whole band of horses. He was just as pretty as a horse could be.

Our next journey took us a long way northeast. Washakie said that we were going where the buffaloes were too many to count. After about a week of travel, we reached the north fork of the Madison River, about on a line with the Yellowstone Park; and oh, the kwaditsi (antelope) and padahia (elk) and kotea (buffalo) there were! Every way we looked we could see herds of them.

While we were at this camp another boy was killed by a horse. He was dragged almost to pieces through the rocks and brush.

When I heard of it, I told mother to get her voice ready for another big howling.

“Aren’t you ashamed to talk that way?” asked Hanabi.

“I am afraid you are a hard-hearted boy,” said mother.

After the poor fellow was buried, we went up the Madison River about ninety miles and camped there for a month. The buffalo were now in better condition, so we killed a good many, drying their meat and making their hides into robes. Then we went on south and came to the beautiful lake where we had had such a good time the summer before. It is now called Henry’s Lake, and is the head of the north fork of the Snake River. We did nothing here but fish, for we had enough dried meat to last till we reached the usual hunting grounds.

“We did not know,” said the old arrow maker, “what whooping cough, measles, and smallpox were until the whites brought these diseases among us. A train of emigrants once camped near us; some of their white papooses had the whooping cough; our papooses caught it from them. Our medicine man tried to cure it as he would a bad cold, and more than half of our papooses died from the disease and the treatment. Hundreds of our people have been killed with the smallpox brought to us by the white man.

“The white men keep crowding the Indians that are east of here out west, and they keep crowding us farther west. Very soon they will have us away out in Nevada where there is nothing but lizards and snakes and horned toads to live on. If they crowd us farther than that, we shall have to jump off into the Great Water.”

When it seems so, it is complicated with the main cause of rachitis; that is, bad, insufficient, improper food, with its immediate result—viz. intestinal catarrh. Cow's milk, particularly when acid, starchy food administered too early or in too large quantity or too exclusively, early weaning followed by improper artificial food, insufficient mother's milk or such as is either too thin or too caseinous, lactation protracted beyond the normal limit,—may all alike be causes of intestinal disturbances and rachitis.

The alimentary tract is the seat of many changes recognizable during life. The tonsils are often large. The tongue is seldom coated to an unusual degree. On it are found little islands, red, marginated, deprived of epithelium. They will increase in size and number and extend backward. They will heal and reappear. They are by no means syphilitic, as Parrot would have it, and correspond exactly with the erosions near the solitary glands and those of Lieberkühn in the intestinal part, which mean nothing else but a nutritive disorder of the epithelia, and give rise to nothing worse than incompetency of absorption in that locality and abnormal secretion. The stomach is in a condition of chronic catarrh, sometimes dilated. Acid dyspepsia is frequent. Anorexia and bulimia will alternate. Feces contain an abnormally large amount of lime. Diarrhoea and constipation will follow each other in short intervals. The former owes its origin to faulty ingesta or chronic catarrh; the latter, sometimes to improper food, but more generally to muscular insufficiency. [p. 154]This condition has not been estimated at its proper value. Besides myself,17 nobody but Bohn has paid the attention to it which it deserves. Here, again, I have to insist that rachitis is a disease of the whole system, and not exclusively of the bones. Indeed, the muscular system is amongst the first to suffer. In the same way in which the voluntary muscles are not competent to raise and support the head or to allow a baby to sit up without a functional kyphosis, the involuntary muscles of the intestine are too feeble for normal peristalsis. The infant of a month or two months of age may have had normal and sufficiently numerous evacuations; gradually, however, constipation sets in; the feces become dry, but are perhaps not much changed otherwise. If no other cause be apparent, the suspicion of rachitical constipation is justified. Seldom, however, after it has lasted some time—and only after some time has elapsed relief will be sought—it will remain alone. Other symptoms of rachitis will turn up and the case be easily recognized. This constipation is an early symptom, as early as thoracic grooving or craniotabes. Very often it precedes both—is, in fact, the very first symptom—and ought therefore be known and recognized in time.

The skin participates in the general nutritive disorder. It is soft and flabby. In those infants who become rachitical gradually while proving their malnutrition by the accumulation of large quantities of fat, it exhibits a certain degree of consistency. When rachitis develops in the second half of the first year or later, with the general emaciation the skin appears very thin, flabby, unelastic. The veins are generally large. Complications with eczema and impetigo are very frequent; where they are found the glandular swellings of the neck and below are still more marked than in uncomplicated cases. Circumscribed alopecia is sometimes found (not to speak of the extensive baldness of the occiput). It is not attended with or depending on the microsporon Audouini, but the result of a tropho-neurosis. In the hair Rindfleisch found fat-globules between its inferior and central third. Then it would break, the axial evolution would cease, and the end become bulbous by the new formation of cells.

TREATMENT.—To meet the cause of a disease by preventive measures is the main object and duty of the physician. He thus either obviates a malady or relieves and shortens it. Now, if the original disposition to rachitis, as has been suggested, is to be looked for in early intra-uterine life, when the blood-vessels begin to form and to develop, we know of no treatment directed to the pregnant woman or uterus which promises any favorable result. But the more we recognize an anatomical cause of the chronic disorder, the more we can appreciate the influence upon the child of previous rachitis in the mother, and are justified in emphasizing the necessity on the part of the woman to be healthy when she gets married, and to remain so while she is pregnant. After the child is born the most frequent cause of rachitis is found within the diet or the digestion of the patient. To attend to the former is in almost every instance equal to preventing disorders of the latter; for most of the digestive disturbances during infancy and childhood are the direct consequences of errors in diet. It is, however, impossible to write an essay on infant diet in connection with our subject. I have elaborated the subject in my [p. 159]Infant Diet (2d ed. 1876), in the first volume of Buck's Hygiene, and of C. Gerhardt's Handbuch d. Kinderk. (2d ed. 1882). Still, the importance of the subject requires that some points should be given, be they ever so aphoristic.

The best food for an infant, under ordinary circumstances, is the milk of its mother. The best substitute for the mother is a wet-nurse. Woman's milk ought not to be dispensed with when there is the slightest opportunity to obtain it, particularly when the family history is not good and nutritive disorders are known to exist, or to have existed, in any of its members. When it cannot be had, artificial food must take its place, and it is in the selection of it where most mistakes are constantly made. This much is certain, that without animal's milk no infant can or ought to be brought up; as ass's milk can be had only exceptionally, and dog's milk, which has been said to cure rachitis, is still less available, the milk of either goat or cow must be utilized. The former ought not to be selected if the latter is within reach, mainly for the reason that it contains, besides other objectionable features which it possesses in common with cow's milk, an enormous percentage of fat. Cow's milk differs in this from woman's milk, that it contains more fat, more casein, more potassium, and less sugar than the latter, and that its very casein is not only different in quantity, but also in chemical properties. Even the reaction of the two milks is not the same, woman's milk being always alkaline, cow's milk often either neutral or amphoteric, and liable to acidulate within a short time. Thus, the dilution of cow's milk with water alone yields no equivalent at all of woman's milk, though the dilution be large enough to reduce the amount of casein in the mixture to the requisite percentage of one, and one only, in a hundred. The addition of sugar (loaf-sugar) and of table-salt, and sometimes alkali (bicarbonate of sodium or lime-water, according to special circumstances), is the least that can be insisted upon. Besides, the cow's milk must be boiled to prevent its turning sour too rapidly, and this process may be repeated to advantage several times in the course of the day. Instead of water, some glutinous substance must be used for the purpose of diluting cow's milk. As its casein coagulates in hard, bulky curds, while woman's milk coagulates in small and soft flakes, some substance ought to be selected which keeps its casein in suspension and prevents it from curdling in firm and large masses. Such substances are gum-arabic, gelatin, and the farinacea. Of the latter, all such must be avoided which contain a large percentage of amylum. The younger the baby, the less is it in a fit condition to digest starch; thus arrowroot, rice, and potatoes ought to be shunned. The very best of all farinacea to be used in diluting cow's milk are barley and oatmeal. A thin decoction of either contains a great deal of both nutritious and glutinous elements, the former to be employed under ordinary circumstances, the latter to take its place where there is, on the part of the baby, an unusual tendency to constipation. The decoction may be made of from one to three teaspoonfuls of either in a pint of water; boil with a little salt, and stir, from twelve to twenty minutes, and strain through a coarse cloth. It ought to be thin and transparent. Then mix with cow's milk in different proportions according to the age of the baby. Four parts of the decoction, quite thin, and one of milk (always with loaf-sugar), for a newly-born, equal parts for an infant of six months, [p. 160]and gradual changes between these two periods, will be found satisfactory. Whenever there is a prevalence of curd in the passage the percentage in the food of cow's milk must be reduced, and now and then such medicinal correctives resorted to as will improve a disturbed digestion. Care ought to be taken lest for the newly-born or quite young the preparations of barley offered for sale contain too much starch. The whiter they are, the more unfit for the use of the very young, for the centre of the grain contains the white and soft amylum in preference to the nitrogenous substances which are found near the husk. Thus, it is safest to grind, on one's own coffee-grinder, the whole barley, but little deprived of its husk, and thus secure the most nutritious part of the grain, which is thrown out by the manufacturer of the ornamental and tidy packages offered for sale. But very few cases will ever occur in which the mixtures I recommend will not be tolerated. In a few of them, in very young infants, the composition recommended by Meigs19 has proved successful. It consists of three parts of a solution of milk-sugar (drachm xvij¾ in pint j of water), two parts of cream, two of lime-water, and one part of milk. For each feeding he recommends three tablespoonfuls of the sugar solution, two of lime-water, two of cream, and one of milk: mix and warm. The baby may take all of it, or one-half, or three-fourths.

Under the head of roborants we subsume such substances, either dietetic or remedial, which are known or believed to add to the ingredients of the organism in a form not requiring a great deal of change. Rachitical infants require them at an early period. Meat-soups, mainly of beef, and of mutton in complications with diarrhoea, ought to be given at once when the diagnosis of rachitis becomes clear or probable. Any mode of preparation will prove beneficial; the best way, however, is to utilize the method used by Liebig in making what he called beef-tea. A quarter of a pound of beef or more, tender and lean, cut up finely, is mixed with a cup or a tumbler of water and from five to seven drops of dilute muriatic acid. Allow it to stand two hours and macerate, while stirring up now and then. This beef-tea can be much improved upon by boiling it a few minutes. It may be given by itself or mixed with sweetened and salted barley-water or the usual mess of barley-water and milk which the infant has been taking before. Older infants, particularly those suffering from diarrhoea, take a teaspoonful of raw beef, cut very fine, several times a day. It ought not to be forgotten, however, [p. 162]that the danger of developing tænia medio-canellata from eating raw beef is rather great. Peptonized beef preparations are valuable in urgent cases.

Cod-liver oil, one-half to one teaspoonful or more, three times a day, is a trusted roborant in rachitis, and will remain so. Animal oils are so much more homogeneous to the animal mucous membrane than vegetable oil that they have but little of the purgative effect observed when the latter are given. The former are readily absorbed, and thus permit the nitrogenous ingesta to remain in store for the formation of new tissue, but still affect the intestinal canal sufficiently to counteract constipation. As the latter is an early symptom in a peculiarly dangerous form of rachitis, cod-liver oil ought to be given in time (in craniotabes). Diarrhoea is but seldom produced by it; if so, the addition of a grain or two of bismuth or a few doses of phosphate of lime (one to four grains each) daily, may suffice to render the movements more normal. There are but few cases which will not tolerate cod-liver oil at all. The pure cod-liver oil—no mixtures, no emulsions—ought to be given...

At this point, however, it may be well to mention that the standard amount of proteid matter taken, in the construction of all these tables, was 130 grammes — 4.5 ounces. Moleschott's original diet-table contained only 120 grammes or (4.2 ounces), but as almost all observers agree quite closely as to the amount of proteid material necessary to be used, and also as to the results obtained from its oxidization, the same quantity was used in all instances that a more exact comparison might be established. The chief difference of dispute, however, is in relation to the relative value of the fats and carbohydrates, and particularly in reference to the latter compounds. 

In trying to develop out of a purely vegetable diet, anything like the same amount of working power for the system that is obtainable by the use of Porter's or Moleschott's diet, almost double the amount of proteid had to be taken with the proportionate rise in the fat and starch as is contained in the vegetable chosen. 

To produce the same amount of work by using a vegetable diet necessitates the outlay of a much larger amount of oxygen, and the production and handling by the glandular structures of the body of an excessive amount of the nitrogenous excrementitious elements. These facts illustrate quite conclusively the manner in which the damage to the system is brought about by indulging too freely, or living exclusively upon a cereal or vegetable compound. 

The vegetable proteid in these tables is further given an undue advantage, to which it is not justly entitled, by crediting it with the same atomic formula as that possessed by an animal proteid ; since the nitrogenous element found in plant-life contains a much larger number of nitrogen atoms, and consequently requires more vital force and oxygen to digest and assimilate it. This naturally decreases rather than improves the nutritive value of the proteid compound of vegetable origin. 

An average of a compound fat molecule is taken as the working standard in all these tables. 

Attention is also directed to a probable error in the rating of the heat-producing power of the carbohydrate. It is & commonly stated, that the comparative oxygenating capacity of a carbohydrate and fat is as one to two and one-half, but by their chemical atomicities, it is as one to thirteen, or thirteen and one-half in favor of the fat. 

That such an error exists in the computations in Moleschott's standard is sustained by a comparative study of the atomicities of the food-stuffs used in both Porter's and Moleschott's diet tables, and of the amount of oxygen required for complete oxidization in both instances. In the former, or Porter's proteid and fat diet table, a little more oxygen is needed than is necessary in Moleschott's mixed diet* yet it is claimed that in the latter instance 393,170 kilogramme-metres or 54,358 more foot pounds of work is produced. This, however, is directly opposed by the smaller quantity of oxygen used in the oxidization processes. When this error in work, produced out of the carbohydrates in Moleschott's diet, is corrected in accordance with the difference in atomicity and the amount of oxygen used between the fat molecule and the carbohydrate molecule represented as glucose, and a computation is made in accord with the correction, a slight difference in work produced when living on a Moleschott's or Porter's diet, is found to exist. The increase in work produced, however, is now found to exist in connection with Porter's diet and is in accord with the larger amount of oxygen used, which makes atomicity, oxygen used, and work produced correspond, while the reverse was stated in the calculations formerly made in connection with Moleschott's diet. 

If this error be true, as it appears to be, the profession have been sadly misguided in all their attempts in the construction of diet tables starting with Moleschott as their standard. 

On the other side, if these chemical and physiological laws be true, as based upon the atomicity of the proximate principles, by carefully considering the percentage composition of each food product to be used, exact results can be obtained. Another point to which attention is called by Dr. Porter is this, that the factors 1.812 and 3.841, which are used in computing the kilogramme-metres in Table VIII., are taken from Frankland — Philosophical Magazine XXXII., and are those which are generally quoted in all scientific works upon physiological chemistry and upon diet. 

In studying the proximate principles, however, by the atomicities, and considering the amount of oxygen required to completely transform a fat molecule into its final products of excretion water and carbon dioxide and a proteid molecule into its final products of excretion — urea, uric acid, kreatinine, carbon dioxide, water, etc. — it is found that only eighteen (18) more oxygen elements are used in the complete oxidization of the fat than in that of the proteid molecule. The computed amount of work performed by the oxidization of the fat molecule is found to be 530 foot pounds as compared to 250 foot pounds for the complete oxidization of the proteid molecule. This makes the eighteen (18) more elements of oxygen used in transforming the fat molecule result in the production of 280 more foot pounds of work than is obtained from the eighteen less used in the proteid. 

From this a decided discrepancy is quite evident between the results obtainable by former calculations and those based upon our modern chemical atomicities. 

However, for an illustrative and comparative study of the working power obtainable from the use of the various food-stuffs, this table is still of great value, as the same figures are used in each and all the calculations. 

As these same factors, 1.812 and 3.841, appear in all the modern scientific works, they were retained in the arrangement of this table, but not without appreciating and calling attention to this discrepancy when the computation is based upon the atomicities of the food elements used, the amount of oxygen required, and the results obtained. 

Again, it must be remembered that the proteids are not directly transformed into their final products, but undergo a series of intermediate changes, all of which require the use of oxygen and must of necessity yield more or less heat and energy, so that all our estimates are approximate. 

When upon Moleschott's diet with the proteid substances raised to the common standard of 130 grammes and the carbohydrates rated in accord with the correction previously noted, it requires 36,115 oxygen elements to produce 678,270 kilogramme-metres or 93,773 foot pounds of work. 

When upon Porter's diet of proteid and fat, it requires 38,415 oxygen elements to produce 734,890 kilogrammemetres or 101,602 foot pounds of work. When upon a purely vegetable diet that will yield anything like the requisite amount of work that can be obtained by using Moleschott's or Porter's diet, it requires 47,191 oxygen elements to produce 742,018 kilogramme-metres or 102,587 foot pounds of work. 

To obtain the 63,748 more kilogramme-metres or 8,814 foot pounds of work out of the vegetable diet as compared with Moleschott's diet, it requires the expenditure of 11,076 more oxygen elements. 

To obtain the 7,128 more kilogramme-metres or 985 foot pounds of work out of the vegetable diet as compared with Porter's diet, it requires the expenditure of 8,776 more oxygen elements. The vegetable diet in both instances yielding an excessive amount of nitrogenous excretory matter, carbon dioxide, and water. 

A careful study of Table II. and VII., and Porter's diet in Table VIII., proves beyond a question of doubt that upon an exclusive diet of our ordinary average meat alone very nearly the required proportions of the proteids or CHNOS compounds and of the fat or CHO element can be established. 

The only defect in the perfection of Table VII. and VIII. is found in the saline column, which contains much more mineral matter than perfect physiological laws indicate are required. This excess in saline or inorganic compounds, however, appears to be true in all kinds of food products — that is, if the proportion of salts in the milk is taken as the guide for a working basis. The reason for looking upon the amount of salts in the milk as the guide to the maximum quantity required is based upon the fact that during the infant period of life, where milk forms the only source of food supply, bone formation is most rapidly progressing, and the amount of mineral matter needed by the system is at its height and much larger than at any other period of life. The bones continue to grow and become fully and perfectly developed with the ordinary quantity of mineral matter contained in the milk. 

Physiology also teaches that a little less than one ounce of mineral salts are required daily by the system, but in all the tables given, except the one containing milk alone, the amount of salts is fully up to or more than an ounce. 

The only great objection that can be raised to an exclusive meat diet is the lack of variety, but that is quite easily adjusted by varying the kinds of meat used. The perfection of the proportionate composition of the proximate principles when using a meat diet, the smaller liability to imbibe an excessive quantity of any one kind and the little danger that there is of taking an excess of the CHO or stimulating and non-nutritious compounds, clearly establishes the fact that in meat we approach the nearest to an ideal food. 

If attention is turned for a single moment to the lower orders of the animal kingdom, it is quite apparent that the most supple and intensely powerful organisms are found among the carnivora only. This tends to substantiate the high utility of the meat diet. Another interesting point is the almost universal absence of tuberculosis among meat-eating animals, while the vegetable-feeding class are specially prone to suffer from this fatal malady. 

Again, the milk which is so generally considered as being fully equal to all the demands of the system, and especially so during the first few months of infant life, might be brought forward as proof positive and clearly illustrating the fact that nature calls for an excess of the CHO elements, because in the composition of the milk it is found that the CHO substances are about twice as abundant as the proteid or CHNOS elements. When these facts are examined a little more closely and scientifically, it is found that the pancreatic gland and its ferment-forming bodies are imperfecty developed at this period of life. Consequently, the fat, if emulsified and rendered capable of being absorbed by the lacteals of the villi, must have this transformation effected almost exclusively by the biliary fluid alone. It is further taught that the biliary secretion acts but little, if at all, upon vegetable fats and that it has the power to effectually emulsify only about one-half of the total quantity of animal fat introduced into the alimentary canal. This being true, fifty per cent, of the fat contained in the milk, together with the bile constantly flowing into the alimentary tract, is unquestionably utilized by the system as a natural laxative principle, and is undoubtedly the chief method by which nature effectually maintains the regular movements of the bowels and produces the daily evacuations so characteristic of a perfectly healthy infant. 

The proportionately larger size of the liver in a child as compared with an adult also points to the fundamental importance of the hepatic gland and its secretion as a necessary agent of prime importance in the infant; the large size of the liver compared with other organs also indicates its great importance during adult life. 

How much of the lactose — which is the form of sugar introduced in the milk — is inverted into glucose and rendered capable of being absorbed and utilized is an open question. In fact, there is no very reliable data upon this important point, but what is to be found upon the subject indicates quite positively that a considerable quantity of the lactose is not changed so as to be utilized by the system, but passes off with the faeces. Therefore, when the scientific truth is clearly appreciated, it is found that the relative proportion between the CHO and the CHNOS elements contained in the milk and that which can gain access to the vascular channels and be of service to the system is not far from equal in amount the major quantity, perhaps a little on the side of the CHO substances or in favor of the fat and sugar. Then, again, the infant requires a little more of the heat-producing compounds during the first few weeks or months than is needed a little later on or in adult life, because the proportionate amount of energy expended is greater in the infant and child than is the case during the adult period of life. Very early in the infant life there is comparatively little muscular action by which heat and energy can be evolved, while a large amount of heat is needed to maintain a perfect physiological condition, and for a time warmth must be artificially supplied. These conditions will admit of a little excess of the CHO elements during this period of life , but when the stage of infant muscular activity commences its never-ceasing motion, then the proportionate amount of the proteid substances must be raised and the CHO, or fat and sugar lowered, if the most perfect type of physiological development is to be effected. 

Observing clinical phenomena a little more closely, it is quite apparent, as life advances, that milk is not equal to the demands of the system, and a more strongly proteid diet is urgently called for by nature. Eggs and lean meat must next be added to furnish this much-needed proteid pabulum for the constructive purposes of the animal economy, and out of which alone the most perfect muscles, glands, ferment bodies, and brain tissue can be formed. 

By this process of reasoning, it is clearly and well established that even with the commonly supposed typical food-stuff, milk, it is not sufficiently perfect in its composition to thoroughly sustain the nutritive economy under all circumstances, but must have added to it a more liberal proteid pabulum. It is also clearly demonstrated that a portion of this excessive amount of fat is not taken up by the circulatory or lymphatic system but is used largely by nature as a laxative agent.

Proceeding a step further in the investigation of the clinical facts bearing upon this most interesting subject and there is found quite a common tendency among people at large to add to the nutritive supply of the infant not the most serviceable kind of food-stuffs in the way of an animal proteid of some kind, but on the contrary the more general practice is that of adding a cereal or vegetable compound, — one in which the CHO elements are very greatly in excess of the demands of nature. Another important point to be remembered in this connection is the well established fact that, although the proteid of vegetable origin, while in quite sufficient quantities, is a much higher nitrogenous compound and, as a rule, is far more difficult of digestion than a proteid body derived from the animal kingdom. 

By this method of infant feeding in which an excess of the fat, sugar, and starch or CHO compounds are used, a natural taste and habit of eating food derived largely from ficially supplied. These conditions will admit of a little excess of the CHO elements during this period of life , but when the stage of infant muscular activity commences its never-ceasing motion, then the proportionate amount of the proteid substances must be raised and the CHO, or fat and sugar lowered, if the most perfect type of physiological development is to be effected. Observing clinical phenomena a little more closely, it is quite apparent, as life advances, that milk is not equal to the demands of the system, and a more strongly proteid diet is urgently called for by nature. Eggs and lean meat must next be added to furnish this much-needed proteid pabulum for the constructive purposes of the animal economy, and out of which alone the most perfect muscles, glands, ferment bodies, and brain tissue can be formed. By this process of reasoning, it is clearly and well established that even with the commonly supposed typical food-stuff, milk, it is not sufficiently perfect in its composition to thoroughly sustain the nutritive economy under all circumstances, but must have added to it a more liberal proteid pabulum. It is also clearly demonstrated that a portion of this excessive amount of fat is not taken up by the circulatory or lymphatic system but is used largely by nature as a laxative agent. Proceeding a step further in the investigation of the clinical facts bearing upon this most interesting subject and there is found quite a common tendency among people at large to add to the nutritive supply of the infant not the most serviceable kind of food-stuffs in the way of an animal proteid of some kind, but on the contrary the more general practice is that of adding a cereal or vegetable compound, — one in which the CHO elements are very greatly in excess of the demands of nature. Another important point to be remembered in this connection is the well established fact that, although the proteid of vegetable origin, while in quite sufficient quantities, is a much higher nitrogenous compound and, as a rule, is far more difficult of digestion than a proteid body derived from the animal kingdom. By this method of infant feeding in which an excess of the fat, sugar, and starch or CHO compounds are used, a natural taste and habit of eating food derived largely from the vegetable kingdom is engendered. The natural sequence is, that on through life the individual is apt to continue eating excessively of all kinds of food-stuffs and particularly those of the CHO and vegetable class. This poorly nourishes the body; adipose tissue in abundance is often acquired from the imperfectly transformed foodproducts. The appetite increases because the system is not properly sustained. The individual continues eating more and more until finally the marginal capacity of the system for supplying oxygen is reached and passed, digestion is imperfectly effected, and the oxidization powers of the body exceeded.

Meat in the diet of the child. 

The growing child has a greater "protein requirement" than an adult, because of constantly building new tissue and wearing out old. There are the same good reasons for using meat as the source of protein in the diet of the child as in the diet of the grown-up. 

Liver is used with excellent results in child feeding. In the first place, the protein of liver is of high biologic value and it is relatively free from connective tissue; in the second place, it is a good source of vitamins; and in the third place, it is rich in iron. In regard to vitamins, liver is given as an excellent source of vitamins A and G; a good source of vitamin B; and vitamins C and D are present. Bacon, because it is so easily digested, is one of the first meats to be given to the very young child. In planning the diet of the child, it must be borne in mind that the "protein requirement" should be met with protein of high biologic value, and the animal proteins—meat, milk, cheese, and eggs—fall in this class. 

A publication from the Children's Bureau, United States Department of Labor, makes the following statement regarding meat in the diet of the pre-school child: 

"Meat and fish supply valuable proteins, minerals, and vitamins. At the beginning of the second year small servings of tender meat—beef, chicken, lamb, or liver, boiled, broiled, or roasted, and finely minced should be given at least three times a week. By the time the child is eighteen months old he may have meat or fish every day. As the child's ability to chew increases, he may be given larger pieces of meat, but it always must be tender. Veal, ham, or pork, properly cooked, may be given to the child over four."3 

Meat in reproduction and lactation. 

In recent animal experimentation4  it has been found that reproduction and lactation were improved by the addition of a meat supplement to a wheat-milk diet. The rate of growth and the general vigor of the young of the meat fed animals were greater than in the control group. Experiments of this nature are of considerable significance in human nutrition.