WINTER HCTURES. 255 



for robins, he may expect to see turkeys, and vice 

 versa. As I was walking carelessly on the borders 

 of an old brambly field that stretched a long distance 

 beside the pine-woods, I heard a noise in front of me, 

 and, on looking in that direction, saw a veritable tur- 

 key, with a spread tail, leaping along at a rapid rate. 

 She was so completely the image of the barn-yard 

 fowl that I was slow to realize that here was the 

 most notable game of that part of Virginia, for the 

 sight of which sportsmen's eyes do water. As she 

 was fairly on the wing, I sent my robin-shot after 

 her ; but they made no impression, and I stood and 

 watched with great interest her long, level flight. 

 As she neared the end of the clearing, she set her 

 wings and sailed straight into the corner of the 

 woods. I found no robins, but went back satisfied 

 with having seen the turkey, and having had an ex- 

 perience that I knew would stir up the envy and the 

 disgust of my companions. They listened with ill- 

 concealed impatience, stamped the ground a few 

 times, uttered a vehement protest against the caprice 

 of fortune that always puts the game in the wrong 

 place or the gun in the wrong hands, and rushed off 

 in quest of that turkey. She was not where they 

 looked, of course ; and, on their return about sun- 

 down, when they had ceased to think about their 

 game she flew out of the top of a pine-tree not thirty 

 rods from camp, and in full view of them, but too 

 far off for a shot. 



In my wanderings that afternoon, I came upon 



