A II U N T K R ' S LIFE. 143 



him, and sent a ball whizzing through his heart. He made 

 a few jumps, and fell dead. Being within half a mile of 

 home, we had but little trouble with him, and he furnished 

 us as much meat as wa.s wanted for that spring. 



lu a week or two there fell another light snow ; and 

 there being at my house a young man who made his home 

 some part of the time with us, and was very fond of scour- 

 ing the woods with me, I told Mary that I would try to 

 get a turkey in the morning, while I could track them in 

 the snow. 



"Well," said Sam Vansickle, "I will go with you, and 

 help carry the game." 



So off we went in the morning, and hunted a long time 

 without success ; but by-and-by we heard an old fellow 

 gobbling on the other side of Deep Creek, which had over- 

 flowed all the bottoms and glades — from hill to hill being 

 covered with a sheet of water. 



Going to the narrowest place we could find, we sat 

 down, and called like a hen turkey. This being their 

 mating season, if the gobbler has no hen with him, he will 

 come running at the call, and only stop long enough to 

 strut, and show the female his beautiful plumage ; or until 

 the crack of the rifle informs him of his mistake. 



Sam and I seated ourselves, and I commenced talking 

 the turkey language. A gobbler heard me, and answered 

 by a continued gobble after gobble. I told Sam that he 

 would fly ever to us if he had no hen with him; and 

 directly over he came, alighting within a rod or two of 

 us. The moment he touched the ground he saw us, and 

 wheeled around to fly back ; but I shot him as he turned, 

 and broke his wing ; yet, notwithstanding, he flounced into 

 the water, and swam to the other side of the deep channel, 

 and made off into a thick alder swamp. 



"Well, Sam," said I, " is not that a pity? We will now 

 lose him, and he will starve to death." 



