Izzy Bird, life at sea
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Izzy Bird, 40 pounds of trout

Isabella is where you think she is. However. Change will come soon because their supplies are so low that they’ve given up hope on Evans* returning before they run out of everything.
The men will hunt for another month, give or take, and their entire winter living depends on what they kill now. “I cannot leave the Territory till I get money, but I can go to Longmount for the mail and hear whether the panic is abating,” she writes.
The men hunted all day yesterday and returned with 40 lbs of trout, which they’ve packed in ice to take to Denver. But first, a feast.
“Epicures at home would have envied us. Mr Kavan kept the frying pan with boiling butter on the stove, butter enough thoroughly to cover the trout, rolled them in coarse corn meal, plunged them into the butter, turned them once, and took them out, thoroughly done, fizzing, and lemon colored. For once young Lyman** was satisfied, for the dish was replenished as often as it was emptied.”
It is a momentary respite in a time of bitter cold and hunger.
 
* Remember Evans? He’s like Godot.
** “the boy”

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