ORNITHOLOGY. 



607 



Kasores. the whole continent of North America, from Mexico and 

 ^"■~v~*^ the Antilles to the forests of Lower Canada, is now, by 

 the progress and density of population, chiefly confined to 

 the thickly wooded and uncultivated tracts of the western 

 states, being particularly abundant in the unsettled parts 

 of Ohio, Kentucky, Illinois, Indiana, and throughout the 

 vast forests of the great valleys of the Mississippi and Mis- 

 souri. On the banks of the latter river, however, where 

 the woods disappear beyond the confluence of the Platte, 

 the turkey no longer appears, and the feathers of the wings, 

 for the purpose of pluming arrows, form an article of small 

 commerce between the other natives and their western 

 countrymen. For a thousand miles up the Arkansas and 

 Red River, in the wooded alluvial lands, they are not un- 

 common. They are likewise met with in small numbers 

 in Tennessee, Alabama, and West Florida. From the At- 

 lantic states generally they are now nearly extirpated. The 

 wild turkey is neither gregarious nor migratory, but from 

 the necessity of wandering after food ; it is otherwise re- 

 sident throughout the whole of the vast region it inhabits, 

 including the greatest diversity of climate ; and it is pro- 

 lific in proportion to its natural resources, so that while in 

 the United States and Canada it only breeds once in the 

 year, in Jamaica and the other West India islands it is 

 said to raise two or three broods in the same period. In 

 quest of mast, they therefore spread themselves through 

 the country, and insensibly assemble in considerable num- 

 bers to the district where their food abounds. These 

 movements are observed to take place in October (the tur- 

 key moon of the aborigines). The males, ,pr gobblers as 

 they are often called, from their note, are now seen apart 

 from the other sex, in companies varying from ten to a 

 hundred. The females move singly, or accompanied by 

 their almost independent brood, who all at first shun assi- 

 duously the persecuting society of the selfish male. Yet 

 after a while, when their food proves abundant, separate 

 mixed flocks of all ages and sexes often promiscuously 

 join in the bounteous repast. Their migration, very un- 

 like that of the rapid pigeons, is made almost entirely on 

 foot, until their progress is perhaps arrested by a river. 

 Their speed, however, is very considerable, and when sur- 

 prised, they more commonly trust to their legs than their 

 wings, running nearly with the velocity of a hound. On 

 meeting with an impediment of this kind, after consider- 

 able delay, they ascend to the tops of the tall trees, and, at 

 the cluck of the leader, they launch into the air for the op- 

 posite shore. The transit is a matter of little difficulty, 

 though considerable labour, for the older birds ; but the 

 younger and less robust sometimes fall short of the bank, 

 and are either drowned or attain the land by swimming. 

 After crossing, it is remarked that they often become an 

 easy prey to the hunter, as they seem bewildered by the 

 new country in which they have arrived, or more probably 

 are fatigued by the novelty and extent of their excursion. 

 After long journeys and privations, particularly in frosty 

 weather, or while the ground is covered with snow, they 

 are sometimes reduced to the necessity of making their 

 appearance near farm-houses, where they now and then 

 even associate with the poultry, and enter the stables and 

 cribs after grain. In this desultory and foraging manner 

 they spend the autumn and winter. 



" According to the latitude, and the advancement of 

 the season, though always very early in the spring, they 

 begin to be actuated by the instinct of propagation. The 

 males commence their gobbling, and court the society of 

 their retiring mates. The sexes roost apart, but in the 

 same vicinity, and at the yelp of the female the gobbling 

 becomes reiterated and extravagant. If heard from the 

 ground, a general rush ensues to the spot, and whether the 

 hen appears or not, the males, thus accidentally brought 

 together, spread out their train, quiver and depress their 



rigid wings, and strutting and puffing with a pompous gait, Rasore3. 

 often make battle, and directing their blows at the head, v -— v~~" 

 occasionally destroy each other in a fit of jealousy. As 

 with our domestic fowls, several hens usually follow a fa- 

 vourite cock, roosting in his immediate neighbourhood, 

 until they begin to lay, when they withdraw from his re- 

 sort to save their eggs, which he would destroy if disco- 

 vered. 



" The females are therefore seen in his company only 

 for a few hours in the day. Soon after this period, how- 

 ever, the male loses his ardour, and the advances of affec- 

 tion now become reversed, the hen seeking out the society 

 of her reluctant mate. In moonlight nights the gobbling 

 of the male is heard, at intervals of a few minutes, for 

 hours together, and affords often a gratifying means of 

 their discovery to the wakeful hunter. After this period 

 the males become lean and emaciated, so as to be even 

 unable to fly, and seek to hide themselves from their mates 

 in the closest thickets, where they are seldom seen. They 

 now also probably undergo their moult, and are so dry, 

 lean, and lousy, until the ripening of the mast and berries, 

 as to be almost wholly indigestible, and destitute of nutri- 

 ment as food. So constant is this impoverished state, that 

 the Indians have a proverb, ' As lean as a turkey in sum- 

 mer.' 



" About the middle of April, in Kentucky, the hens be- 

 gin to provide for the reception of their eggs, and secure 

 their prospects of incubation. The nest, merely a slight 

 hollow scratched in the ground, and lined with withered 

 leaves, is made by the side of a fallen log, or beneath the 

 shelter of a thicket, in a dry place. The eggs, from ten to 

 fifteen, are whitish, covered with red dots. While laying, 

 the female, like the domestic bird, always approaches the 

 nest with great caution, varying the course at almost every 

 visit, and often concealing her eggs entirely by covering 

 them with leaves. Trusting to the similarity of her home- 

 ly garb with the withered foliage around her, the hen, as 

 with several other birds, on being carefully approached, 

 sits close without moving. She seldom indeed abandons 

 her nest, and her attachment increases with the growing 

 life of her charge. The domestic bird has been known 

 not unfrequently to sit stedfastly on her eggs until she 

 died of hunger. As soon as the young have emerged from 

 the shell, and begun to run about, the parent, by her cluck, 

 calls them around her, and watches with redoubled suspi- 

 cion the approach of their enemies, which she can perceive 

 at an almost inconceivable distance. To avoid moisture, 

 which might prove fatal to them, they now keep on the 

 higher sheltered knolls ; and in about a fortnight, instead 

 of roosting on the ground, they begin to fly at night to 

 some wide and low branch, where they still continue to 

 nestle under the extended wings of their protecting parent. 

 At length they resort during the day to more open tracts, 

 or prairies, in quest of berries of various kinds, as well as 

 grasshoppers and other insects. The old birds are very 

 partial to pecan-nuts, winter grapes, and other kinds of 

 fruits. They also eat buds, herbs, grain, and large insects ; 

 but their most general and important fare is acorns, after 

 which they make extensive migrations. By the month of 

 August the young are nearly independent of their parent, 

 and become enabled to attain a safe roost in the higher 

 branches of the trees. The young cocks now show the 

 tuft of hair upon the breast, and begin to strut and gobble, 

 and the young hens already pur and leap. One of the 

 most crafty enemies which the wild turkey has to encoun- 

 ter is the lynx or wild cat, who frequently seizes his prey 

 by advancing round, and waiting its approach in ambush. 

 Like most other gallinaceous birds, they are fond of wal- 

 lowing on the ground, and dusting themselves. 



" When approached by moonlight, they are readily shot 

 from their roosting- tree, one after another, without any 



