140 The Journal 
among them one that was nearly white 
and one old gobbler that was a pure 
wild turkey; but it was too far off to 
shoot him. Dropping the lunch and 
grasping the gun was the work of but 
a second; then the birds came round 
the end of a log and began scratching 
under a beech tree for nuts. Seeing 
two gobblers put their heads together 
at about 40 yards from me, I fired, 
killing both. The flock flew and ran 
in all directions. One hen _ passed 
within 20 paces of me and I killed it 
with the second barrel. A closer exam- 
ination of the dead birds convinced 
me that there had been a cross between 
the wild and the tame turkey. The 
skin on their necks and heads was as 
yellow as an orange, or more of a buck- 
skin, buff color, while the caruncles on 
the neck were tinged with vermilion, 
giving them a most peculiar appear- 
ance; all three of those slain had this 
peculiar marking, and there was not a 
shadow of the blue or purple of the 
wild turkey about their heads, while 
all other points, save the white tipped 
tail feathers, indicated the wild blood.” 
INCREASE IN BRAIN POWER 
It appears that there are numerous 
small anatomical differences between 
the typical wild and typical tame tur- 
key, one of them being a difference in 
the size of the brain cavity. ‘‘Men- 
tally the average wild turkey is stronger 
than the average domesticated one, 
and I believe it will be found that in 
all these long years the above influences 
lof domesticity] have affected the size 
of the brain-mass of the latter species 
in the way above indicated, and per- 
haps it may be possible some day to 
appreciate this difference. Perhaps, 
too, there may have been also a slight 
tendency on the part of the brain of 
the wild turkey to increase in size 
owing to the demands made upon its 
functions due to the influence of man’s 
nearer approach and the necessity of 
greater mental activity in consequence.”’ 
Data are still lacking to determine 
precisely the extent to which the wild 
turkey changes in a few generations of 
domestication. J. D. Caton, who has 
of Heredity 
bred many wild turkeys in captivity, 
writes on this point: 
““My experiments establish first that 
the turkey may be domesticated, and 
that each suceeding generation bred 
in domestication loses something of the 
wild disposition of its ancestors. Sec- 
ond, that the wild turkey bred in domes- 
tication changes its form and the color 
of its plumage and its legs, each suc- 
ceeding generation degenerating more 
and more from these brilliant colors 
which are so constant in the wild turkey 
of the forest, so that it is simply a 
question of time—and indeed a very 
short time—when they will lose all their 
native wildness and become clothed in 
all the varied colors of the common 
domestic turkey; in fact, be like our 
domestic turkey—yes, be our domestic 
turkey.” 
The loss of this plumage must be a 
bitter pill for the male to swallow, if we 
are to accept the picture of him which 
is vividly painted for us. He is a regu- 
lar Turk, we are informed, polygamous 
in the extreme and desirous above all 
of a well-filled harem. ‘He cares not 
a bit for the rearing or training of his 
family; in fact, it has been alleged that 
he follows his mates to their nests and 
destroys and eats the eggs. This I do 
not believe, nor will I accuse him of 
such conduct. He is a vain bird and 
craves admiration, and acts as if he 
were a royal prince and a genuine dude, 
and he will have admiration though it 
costs him his life. He is a gay Lothario 
and will covet and steal his neighbors’ 
wives and daughters; and if his neigh- 
bors protest, will fight to the finish. 
He is artful, cunning, sly, at the same 
time a stupendous fool. One day no art 
can persuade him to approach you, no 
matter how persuasively or persistently 
you call; the next day he will boldly 
walk up to the gun at the first call and 
be shot. He has no sentiment beyond 
a dudish and pompous admiration for 
himself, and he covets every hen he 
sees. He will stand for hours in a small, 
sunny place, striving to attract the 
attention of the hens by strutting, 
gobbling, blowing, and whining, until 
he nearly starves to death. I believe 
he would almost rather be dead than 
