TURKEY HUNTING. 13 



and hawks, flitting among the trees ; but none of these 

 excited my attention : they were rather the constant 

 sights that one sees without regarding. At length the 

 gobble of a turkey came faintly on the air. I have 

 heard that sound often before, and trust to hear it many 

 tunes hereafter, but I can never listen to its first clear 

 note without a flutter of delight, that I verily believe is 

 greater far than that of its sweetheart, as she listens 

 from the jungle to this the loud love-call of her mate. 

 It apparently does not strike the ear, but the heart, and 

 then tingles outward through every nerve. There may 

 be something in this of early association, but it is one of 

 the pleasantest that a man has in this world, and which 

 so often makes him rich when he has never a sou. I 

 stopped short and listened for a repetition of the sound, 

 to tell from what direction it came, and also for any 

 answer that might come back, as by directing my course 

 toward the latter I could intercept the cock when he 

 should take his course. The hundred little beings that 

 talked around me in their various tongues were all 

 speaking. The forest that I thought so still, was no\v% 

 when attentively listening, full of life. How distinctly 

 now came the booming of the sea, and the distant tap of 

 the ivory-billed woodpecker ! Yet I could hear no cluck 

 of hen, or responsive gobble of the younger cocks of the 

 brood. Again the call was repeated. First a low 

 chuckle, and then the rich guttural vowels poured out 

 in a hurried volume. It domineers over every other 

 sound by reason of its peculiarity. There is no manner 



