282 The Turkey Family 



rips the solemn silence of the woods and then 

 what ? It depends. If the man behind the gun 

 happens to be one of Cooper's marvel manipu- 

 lators, there is a sudden stiffening of a grand 

 bronze body, a great clashing of wings as its 

 fellows flee in terror, and a spurt of steaming life- 

 blood upon the virgin snow. When the tracker 

 happens to be an ordinary man say like myself, 

 or, for that matter, like you things are apt to 

 be different, although in part similar. There will 

 be the sudden stiffening of a grand bronze body, 

 the clashing of wings as its fellows flee, then a 

 mightier clashing as the ought-to-be-dead bronze 

 body chases after its fellows, and, presumably (?) 

 in lieu of the spurt of blood, there will be a 

 stream of steaming, bright-blue Saxon speech 

 from about where the tracks and empty shell 

 prove that somebody stood and shot. On account 

 of these little technicalities, I seldom hunt turkeys 

 with the rifle. 



But with the gun it is different, and while I 

 know that where one carries a gun he is apt to 

 wish he had a rifle, and vice versa, I greatly prefer 

 the gun. Most of my trailing has been done in 

 heavily wooded country, having here and there a 

 marshy opening with big clumps of tangled brush, 

 all of which meant flying shots at comparatively 

 short range. A good twelve-gauge, plenty of 

 powder, and an ounce of heavy shot should stop 



