THE DEATH. 247 



which squalls as he passes in waving lines before you, 

 so suddenly and unexpectedly was he awakened from 

 his sound sleep. But our rare and beautiful bird — our 

 gallant and noble bird — our cunning and game bird, 

 what has become of him ? 



The glittering tints have faded from his bright 

 plumage — the gay step has ceased — the bright eye has 

 closed — all are gone. Without a movement of the 

 muscles our valorous lover has fallen lifeless to the 

 earth. 



Such is the manner in which the cautious hunter 

 captures a veteran gobbler, one who is used to all the 

 tricks of the woodman's art — one whose wattles have 

 already been cut with shot — one who, though suffering 

 from starvation, would walk by the treasures of grain 

 in the trap and pen — a gobbler who will listen to the 

 plaintive voice of the female till he has tried its 

 quavers, its length, and its repetitions, by every rule 

 which nature has given him, and even then perhaps 

 not answer, except in a smothered voice, for fear of 

 being deceived ; — such is the bird which the professed 

 turkey-stalker of Texas will select to break a lance 

 with, and, in spite of the chances against him, will, 

 nine times out of ten, kill. 



Here, then, we have the best specimen of the wild 

 forest sports — a trial of skill between the perfection of 

 animal instinct, and the superior mental endowments of 

 man. 



