Beaver was something I had very much wanted to eat ever since I was a boy and had read Horace Kephart's regretful observation: "This tidbit of old-time trappers will be tasted by few of our generation, more's the pity." It was a lean black-haired trapper, Dan Macdonald, who first gave me the opportunity, some years later, and as beaver are one of the principal fur animals along the upper Peace River, I've been fortunate enough to be able to enjoy amisk many times since. ...
Beaver quarters seem almost incommensurately delicious when you're hungry from outdoor exertion .... The meat has a distinctive taste and odor somewhat resembling that of a plump turkey. ... A beaver tail looks surprisingly like a scaly black fish whose head has been removed. ... The beaver tail is so full of nourishing oil, incidentally, that if set too close to a blaze it will burn like a torch. The meat is white and gelatinous, and rich enough that one finds oneself not wanting too much of it at at time.
-- from How to Stay Alive in the Woods
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