THE WILD TURKEY. 20^^ 



step, and hope mounting ever higher as the gob- 

 bler's defiance sounds nearer. The squirrel, as 

 from tree to tree he flings his graceful form above 

 your path, seems contemptible now; and the 

 raccoon, stretched upon some big limb to catch 

 the first beams of the rising sun, you hardly 

 deem worthy of a glance. Little more does the 

 ruffed grouse attract your attention as he dashes 

 the morning dew from the whitening plum-tree, 

 or the woodcock whirling out from among the 

 strange leaves of the pitcher-plant. 



Again he gobbles ; yes, it is plainly closer, 

 but still far away: and '' far away " in the woods 

 is much longer than in the open. On you sneak 

 where the wild grape is opening its little clusters 

 of flowers ; over the fallen log where the wood- 

 bine is twining its soft green you step with extra 

 care ; and under the spreading dogwood whose 

 pure white involucres cover its leaves like snow, 

 you stop to listen. It suddenly occurs to you 

 that it is some time since the last gobble rang 

 over the tree-tops. All of a sudden the woods 

 seem very lonesome without that gobbling. A 

 vast solitude is about you, which you just begin 

 to realize as the dreadful suspicion creeps to 



