Turkey with Thanksgiving 337 



bit of a dance to stir sluggish blood. Just as I 

 thought of again going to cover, a black object 

 moved in the woods, perhaps two hundred yards 

 away. No need for a second glance ; it could only 

 be a turkey ; and as speedily as possible I crawled 

 back into the culvert, and with my head close to the 

 rail waited further developments. Moments dragged 

 past, and at last one bird appeared on the track, 

 a good three hundred yards off, and was presently 

 followed by another, and another, and yet others, 

 until nine stately fowl were in plain view. They 

 soon turned in my direction, and moved forward. 



It was now a " regular cinch," and I hugged my 

 head closer to the rail and glared down the track at 

 those turkeys with a burning intentness that melted 

 what little snow there was near my face. They 

 were coming they were bound to feed right up to 

 my stand if I chose to let 'em. I would kill the big 

 gobbler, and then take chances for another, run or 

 fly. No, I wouldn't either. I would be silent and 

 wary as a lynx and let them feed good and close, 

 and wait for the big fellow and another to get in 

 line and straighten out a brace of them at the one 

 shot. 



They came steadily on. They were now only 

 about two hundred yards away, and advancing in 

 Indian file. Nearer and nearer they came, and I 

 changed my purpose. Two in line were not enough 

 for such an opportunity. I would draw a dead bead 

 on the big fellow and hold on him till three were in 

 range. Yes, that would be better. Still they ad- 

 vanced, and only one hundred and fifty yards 

 separated them from their doom. Now they quick- 



