2l8 GAME-BIRDS AT HOME. 



were surely big enough to kill. Within brick- 

 bat-range three grand birds were scattering 

 leaves and snow in the wake of their mighty 

 wings, and so close together that only about an 

 inch of space appeared between them. Unable 

 to resist the temptation to play the pig, I whirled 

 the gun upon this central point and fired, and, 

 without waiting for the rising of the smoke to 

 show the result, turned the other barrel on a big 

 gobbler that was wheeling to my side with his 

 long beard flat against his breast with speed. 

 My companion picked out a single bird for each 

 barrel, and both the first and second barrels of 

 the two guns woke the echoes of the hills to- 

 gether, neither being wasted on the same bird. 



Like rockets the rest of the flock towered over 

 the trees or wound among the tops, some spin- 

 ning away on straight lines, others rising more 

 as if they still wanted us to see them. One 

 great gobbler swayed the head of a trim bass- 

 wood several feet out of perpendicular as he lit 

 in its top some three hundred yards away, and 

 another brightened with his presence the somber 

 top of a white oak a little farther on. But the 

 rest faded over the distant trees like a beautiful 



