48 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING. 
parently abundant, my friend commenced calling again, 
and in ashort time we had the satisfaction of hearing 
the faint, far-off notes of two or three young gobblers. 
This caused Greene to jump to his feet, gun in hand; 
but my friend advised him to keep quiet, and not to 
shoot until the birds came in sight; so he sat down 
again, with as rueful a countenance as if he were over- 
powered with a load of sorrow. The lost turkey was 
evidently preying on his mind and destroying his happi- 
ness. 
After calling for half an hour, we saw two young gob- 
blers advancing up an avenue of trees, but they moved 
very slowly, peered about them constantly, as if they 
feared that every bush contained a foe, and stopped fre- 
quently, and for some time, in order to get the direction 
of the call. They came within range at length, much to 
our delight, and, jumping on a log, seemed to look 
into the muzzles of the guns which were pointed at 
them. As I had killed my brace during the morning, I 
decided to give the others a chance, so I watched the 
actions of the feathered visitors, while my companions were 
preparing a reception for them. When they were ready, 
Greene whispered ‘‘ Fire!” and both pulled trigger to- 
gether, but only one report was heard, and that was from 
Greene’s gun. The result was one dead bird, which had 
been cleanly killed, but the second dashed away at race- 
horse speed, and disappeared in the forest. When it had 
vanished from sight my cicerone turned towards his 
rival, looked ruefully into his face, bowed his head 
sorrowfully, and, extending his digits, which the other 
took, both shook hands slowly, solemnly, and in silence, 
as if the occasion were too solemn for utterance. The 
Chief of Yelpers having performed this ceremony, 
opened wide his arms, and, in a highly-pitched, tragic 
voice, invited his brother in misfortune to enter them, 
The invitation being accepted, both embraced and pre- 
