I was building a house in the bush outside my daughter's village, and some neighborhood kids used to hike out there to watch me mixing mortar or laying bricks or whatever, and ask a million questions. One day they showed up dragging a critter by the tail, hopping up and down and shouting about they killed a ferocious bear, and describing how it stood up on its hind legs and raised its front claws as if it was about to attack. So they stoned it to death. Turns out it was an ant-eating sloth, so completely defenseless. So I told them, "Lo que matan, lo tienen que comer!" (If you kill it you gotta eat it). So I made a fire and we roasted it, fur on. It was too big to cook all the way through, but we picked off the parts that were done and we ate it. It was red meat, not bad. I guess they learned something.