Wild Turkey. 99 



the tree-tops, we could make out against the light back- 

 ground of the sky, almost as clearly as by day, the sleep- 

 ing victims of our guns and rifles. A low soft whistle 

 was passed along from man to man ; and the signal given, 

 how different the scene became ! A deafening report 

 suddenly rang out into the silent night, a flash of light 

 belched from the gun muzzle, and a heavy thud followed 

 as twenty pounds of turkey struck the ground. In our 

 silent moccasins we flitted about under the roost, and report 

 after report on all sides told how good the sport was and 

 how excellent the chance that the boys at McKavett 

 would have plenty of turkeys at their Christmas dinner. 

 The turkeys were so surprised by the sudden noise, so 

 entirely unprepared for the visit of the sportsman to 

 their secluded retreat, that they did not know what to 

 make of it, often remaining stupidly on their branch 

 after a companion five feet off had been shot down. 

 With the last bird shot or flown away ended our even- 

 ing's sport. All the dead birds were gathered together 

 and strapped in bunches by our saddles and on the 

 pack-mules. It does not take many pecan- and grass- 

 fed turkeys to make a load, and back we trotted to camp, 

 the steel hoofs striking into the prairie soil with a merry 

 ring of triumph over the night's work. The hour was 

 nearly midnight when we sat down to the delicately 

 browned turkey steaks in the mess tent, and realized that 

 we had enjoyed the delights of one of the best sports in 

 Texas turkey-shooting in the roosts. 



" Early in the afternoon following the night's sport 

 we left the fort mounted on fine three-quarter Kentucky 



