210 GAME-BIRDS AT HOME. 



stock or barrel of the gun seemed the most con- 

 venient, and after a few trials of it you could 

 almost see a whole flock of turkeys marching 

 upon your blind. 



The great day came, and you scattered a flock. 

 Little trouble to do that, provided you could 

 find them and did not walk so slowly as to let 

 them run away from you. You made a blind 

 beside a fallen log under the shadow of big gray 

 toadstools, drew over it the yellowing garlands 

 of the bitter-sweet and the reddening branches 

 of the young maple, and sat down to try the 

 call. How nicely it worked, and how steady 

 your nerves! What mighty expectations fired 

 your burning heart ! Few days in life like these ; 

 few minutes in the day ! 



It suddenly strikes you that nothing in the 

 turkey line is. coming. A gray squirrel descends 

 a big tree but a few feet from you and, with head 

 downwards and tail flirting, speaks his little piece 

 with explosive emphasis, as if ordering you out 

 of his kingdom ; but in vain you scan the dim 

 aisles of the forest for the bobbing head of a 

 turkey, and vainly you listen for the plaintive 

 yelp of the old hen. Surely you have not called 



