308 HUNTING SPORTS OF THE WEST. 



day, and had my second barrel been loaded with an Ely's 

 cartridge, some of which I had with me, it is probable 

 that, giving myself credit for ability to hit a haystack at 

 thirty yards, the gigantic gobbler (the cock bird is so 

 called by the natives) would, as in life, so in death, have 

 been united with his feathered, and I may add, fat and 

 fair partner. The addition to my shooting-book of the 

 wild turkey, is so far satisfactory, that I believe I may 

 now boast of having bagged, in their natural state, and 

 in their native clime and covert, each kind of the " fea- 

 thered tribes domestic," that strut or flutter in the 

 English farm-yard, from the royal peacock, now seldom 

 Been on festive board, to the diminutive and pie-frequent- 

 ing pigeon. 



The country and soil around Amherstburg, are such 

 as would please the eye of the tourist, the sportsman, 

 and the settler. The banks of the river are picturesque, 

 game is most abundant, the land extremely rich, the 

 crops plentiful, and the timber, among which, I must 

 beg to include the mahogany of the 34th mess ! unex- 

 ceptionable. 



On the 24th of October, at eight P. M. precisely, with- 

 drawing my legs from under the above-named hospitable 

 board, I drained a glass of Pickwick's favorite liquor, 

 (need I particularize " cold punch ?") to the health of 

 that gallant regiment, at whose mess I was not suffered 

 to feel, like the worthy philosopher above mentioned, 

 when in the pound, that I "hadn't got no friends," and 

 was rowed, in the dark, by the garrison crew, alongside 

 the Buffalo steamer, up whose lofty side I was hauled, 

 hand over hand, by the passengers, as she backed her 



