THE FOX 63 



silly geese now got it through their noddles that 

 there was danger about, and every night there- 

 after came close up to the house to roost. 



A brood of turkeys, the old one tied to a tree 

 a few rods to the rear of the house, were the 

 next objects of attack. The predaceous rascal 

 came, as usual, in the latter half of the night. I 

 happened to be awake, and heard the helpless 

 turkey cry "Quit, quit," with great emphasis. 

 Another sleeper, on the floor above me, who, it 

 seems, had been sleeping with one ear awake for 

 several nights in apprehension for the safety of 

 his turkeys, heard the sound also, and instantly 

 divined its cause. I heard the window open and 

 a voice summon the dogs. A loud bellow was 

 the response, which caused Reynard to take him- 

 self off in a hurry. A moment more, and the 

 mother turkey would have shared the fate of the 

 geese. There she lay at the end of her tether, 

 with extended wings, bitten and rumpled. The 

 young ones roosted in a row on the fence near 

 by, and had taken flight on the first alarm. 



Turkeys, retaining many of their wild instincts, 

 are less easily captured by the fox than any other 

 of our domestic fowls. On the slightest show of 

 danger they take to wing, and it is not unusual, 

 in the locality of which I speak, to find them 

 in the morning perched in the most unwonted 



