220 FIELD SHOOTING. 



for our suppers and breakfasts. I then remembered 

 the crane, and going to the fence I picked the 

 breast, and cut it off in slices or steaks. These 

 we fried in butter. There was a prairie road or 

 track running by the hut. It was commonly but 

 little used, but on this occasion, while the steaks 

 were being cooked, a man and a woman came by 

 in a buggy. As she caught the rich flavor from 

 the hot pan, the woman said, "Those men must 

 have something very good to eat." She was right. 

 When we came to our crane-steaks, we both 

 thought we had never eaten anything so good in 

 our lives. It is true that the frosty air of the 

 prairie late in the fall sharpens the appetite, and 

 true that we were hungry, and hunters at that ; 

 but it is also true that the steaks were delicious 

 eating. The meat was rich and juicy, and it had 

 been frozen and thawed a sufficient number of 

 times to make it very tender. Since then, if a 

 crane was within shot, I have never let him get 

 away, if I could help it. The flesh of the white 

 crane is quite as good as that of the sand-hill 

 kind. 



Cranes need to be hung for a long time be- 

 fore being cooked, and almost all game is the 

 better for being hung, if the weather is cool or 



