^46 THE WILD TURKEY. 



distance protect him from the deadly weapon of the cau- 

 tious hunter, and with assumed carelessness he even con- 

 descends to pick insects from the grass in the open space. 



What a trial for the expectant hunter ! How vividly 

 does it recur to his mind that even a loud breath has 

 often spoiled a morning's work. The minutes wear on, 

 and then the bird again becomes the caller. He gobbles, 

 opens his form, and, when he is fully bloomed out, the 

 enchanting cluck greets his ear. On he comes, like the 

 war-horse, towards the inspiring music of the drum, or 

 like a bark beating against the wind, gallantly but 

 slowly. The dark cold barrel of the gun is not now 

 more silent than the hunter; the game is playing just 

 outside the very edge of its deadly reach — the least 

 mistake and it is gone. One gentle zephyr — one 

 falling twig — might break the charm, and make nature 

 revolt at the shyness apparent in the mistress ; and 

 then the gallant lover would wing his way to the 

 woods. 



But on he comes. So still is everything, that you 

 can hear his wings distinctly as they brush along the 

 ground ; the sun plays in conflicting rays and coloured 

 lights about his gaudily-bronzed plumage. The hun- 

 ter's finger presses the trigger I — but the time has not 

 yet come. 



Suddenly the woods ring in echoing circles back 

 upon the form of the hunter ; a sharp report is heard ! 

 Out starts, in alarm at the unexpected noise, a blue jay. 



