THE TURKEY 63 



der, his notebook, pencil, and brashes in his game- 

 bag, traversed the most secluded solitudes in order 

 to observe, paint, and describe birds. 



66 'The nest,' he tells us, ' which consists of a few 

 withered leaves, is placed on the ground, in a hollow 

 scooped out by the side of a log, or in the fallen top 

 of a dry leafy tree, under a thicket of sumach or 

 briars, or a few feet within the edge of a cane-brake, 

 but always in a dry place. . . . When depositing her 

 eggs, the female always approaches the nest with 

 extreme caution, scarcely ever taking the same 

 course twice, and when about to leave them covers 

 them carefully with leaves, so that it is very difficult 

 for a person who may have seen the bird to discover 

 the nest. . . . 



' ' ' The mother will not leave her eggs when near 

 hatching, under any circumstances, while life re- 

 mains. She will even allow an enclosure to be made 

 around her, and thus suffer imprisonment, rather 

 than abandon them. I once witnessed the hatching 

 of a brood of turkeys, which I watched for the pur- 

 pose of securing them together with the parent. I 

 concealed myself on the ground within a very few 

 feet, and saw her raise herself half the length of her 

 legs, look anxiously upon the eggs, cluck with a sound 

 peculiar to the mother on such occasions, carefully 

 remove each half-empty shell, and with her bill caress 

 and dry the young birds, that already stood tottering 

 and attempting to make their way out of the nest. 



raphy," vol. I, pp. 2-9, and are here reproduced verbatim, though 

 very freely treated by the French author. Translator. 



