THE TURKEY DRIVE 17 



a clamor that drowned the vesper bell, came down on 

 the chapel in a feathered congregation that covered 

 every shingle of the roof. Only the humor and quick 

 wit of the kindly old priest prevented the superstitious 

 of his people from going into a panic. The service 

 had to wait until the birds made themselves com- 

 fortable for the night belfry, roof, window-sills, 

 and porch steps thick with roosting turkeys ! 



The boys had come to have almost a fear of this 

 mania for roosting, for they never knew when it 

 might break out or what strange turn it might 

 take. They knew now, as the snow and the gray 

 dusk began to thicken in the woods, that the flock 

 must not go to roost. Even the dog understood the 

 signs, the peevish quint, quint, quint, the sudden 

 bolting of some gobbler into the brush, the stretch- 

 ing necks, the lagging steps, and redoubled his 

 efforts to keep the line from halting. 



For two days the flock had been without food. 

 Almost a week's supply of grain, enough to carry 

 them through to the border, had been loaded into 

 the wagon before starting in upon this wild, de- 

 serted road through the Black Creek region ; but 

 the heavy, day-long snowstorm had prevented their 

 moving at all for one day, and had made travel so 

 nearly impossible since then that here they were, 

 facing a blizzard, with night upon them, five hun- 

 dred starving turkeys straggling wearily before 

 them, and a two days' drive yet to go ! 



