Walking these arroyos you're liable to come across three dead crows, only about six crow hops, two apiece, from the carcass of a jackrabbit. The three of them's how you'll know the jack was laced with poison. Not by a crow-hating rancher, but figure it by a lamb-killing-coyote-hating rancher. Folks like to tell how a coyote will chew its own leg off to escape a trap, chew it off at the ankle, but I've never seen it myself. Still, when you look at the crows, how close to the jackrabbit they fell, you have to believe any rancher who tells you it's more humane to poison than to trap.
If you want to eat a jackrabbit yourself people will mostly tell you there is no good time to do it. They're pretty much nothing but two big old legs once you've got them skinned and gutted, and no matter how slow you cook them or long you stew them, they just come up tough and stringy.
You will do yourself a huge favor, however, by never harvesting a jackrabbit the first real hard breeze. The cold snap will do little to tenderize the flesh or soften the ligaments; what the frost does do is kill off the bulk of the fleas, ticks and other vermin that feed off the rabbit's hide in more temperate months. Right up on next to the hare's skin, buried in its fur, will of course remain legions of smaller and more durable parasites, even in winters deepest cold. 0n account of this you may want to not bring the carcass in right away, especially if you have dogs, but leave it out to cool down quickly. This will help drive off another wave of pests. Some would say to field dress it first, to speed cooling of the flesh and to prevent a gamey flavor.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The most common jack on the Colorado Plateau, the black-tailed jackrabbit, is actually a hare. The distinction turns on the fact that the young of hares are born with fur already on them, and with their eyes open.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
| .<Lemuel J. Paya was talking about what he liked to eat [when he could get it], and he mentioned rabbit soup. He described how "you skin the rabbit and gut it but leave the head on, and boil it for a long time. Occasionally you look into the pot, where the rabbit's eyes are staring up at you, and when the meat is about to fall off the bones, you throw in several handfuls of crushed pine nuts, shells included, and bring the liquid to a boil again. The soup is delicious and the bones and the thick stuff in the bottom of the pot are much liked by dogs." |  |
| Mr. Lemuel J.Paya, Havasupai, Elder, c. 1972. |
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Mr. Paya himself has not shot a rabbit for three years; the vision in his remaining eye is " getting a little smoky."