We
now had nothing to eat but raw hides and they were on the roof
of the cabin to keep out the snow; when prepared for cooking
and boiled they were simply a pot of glue. When the hides were
taken off our cabin and we were left without shelter Mr. Breen
gave us a home with his family, and Mrs. Breen prolonged my
life by slipping little bits of meat now and then when she discovered
that I could not eat the hide.