TURKEY SHOOTING 443 



ground, when I suddenly saw the flock, only about 

 forty yards to my left. The birds had not seen me, 

 and were walking quietly along in single file, following 

 a course directly parallel to the one I had taken. They 

 presented a fine sight, and I was strongly tempted to 

 shoot, but on second thought decided to follow them 

 until they roosted. Moving quietly out of sight in a 

 small arroyo, I ran back a short distance and gave a 

 low whistle, when my companion soon overtook me. 

 Together we followed the birds, using great care not 

 to show ourselves. Food had ceased to interest them, 

 and they were evidently looking for a place to roost. 

 They continued in single file, pausing occasionally to 

 look warily about, until they reached some high ground 

 overlooking a small canyon, along the slopes of which 

 stood several tall dead pines. The leader, a fine old 

 fellow, of unusual size, stopped, and the rest of the 

 flock came trailing up, and gathered in a group facing 

 the canyon. Several low, tremulous single notes, 

 quir-r-r-rt, quir-r-r-rt, quir-r-r-rt, were uttered, and 

 suddenly they took wing together and flew almost hori- 

 zontally out to the branches of the dead trees. After 

 leaving the ground no sound was heard except the 

 heavy flapping of wings. A few moved into the tops 

 of live trees a short distance farther down, but most 

 of them remained in the dead ones. Their behavior 

 was in marked contrast to that of the females and 

 young. There was no crowding and no confusion, 

 and in a remarkably short time they were settled for 

 the night and all was quiet. From where I was lying 



