22 THE HIVE OF THE BEE-HUNTER. 



mistress, and he gallantly flies down from his low perch, 

 gives his body a swaggering motion, and utters a dis- 

 tinct and prolonged duck — significant of both surprise 

 and joy. 



On the instant, the dead twigs near by crack beneath 

 a heavy tread, and he starts off under the impression 

 that he is caught ; but the meanderings of some rumi- 

 nating cow inform him of his mistake. Composing 

 himself, he listens — ten minutes since he challenged, 

 when a low cluck in the distance reaches his ears. 



Now, our gobbler is an old bird, and has several times, 

 as if by a miracle, escaped from harm with his life ; he 

 has grown very cunning indeed. 



He will not roost two successive nights upon the 

 same tree, so that daylight never exposes him to the 

 hunter, who has hidden himself away in the night to 

 kill him in the morning's dawn. 



He never gobbles without running a short distance 

 at least, as if alarmed at the noise he makes himself — he 

 presumes every thing is suspicious and dangerous, and 

 his experience has heightened the instinct. 



Twice, when young, was he coaxed within gun-shot : 

 but got clear by some fault of the percussion-caps — after 

 that, he was fooled by an idle schoolboy, who was a kind 

 of ventriloquist, and would have been slain, had not the 

 urchin overloaded his gun. 



Three times did he come near being killed by heed- 

 lessly wandering with his thoughtless playfellows. 



