What do you mean I “can only bring a hundred pounds of this back to the wagon?”
Look at this thing. It’s dead. And if you think hauling it all back is a chore, let me tell you about finding it. I had thirty seconds to shoot it, I can only fire a single bullet in one of eight directions and the first three times a rabbit got in the way. Or a cactus. I literally can’t tell.
I’m not wasting this. I don’t think if I only shave a few steaks off the flank it’s going to grow back. What happened to “use every part of the buffalo?” Didn’t that Indian at the Snake River crossing tell us that? The one you traded with to get thirteen more wagon wheels because, and I quote, “why do we need three sets of clothing each, anyway?”