270 The Turkey Family 



He will not turn, and the fatter and finer he may 

 be, the shorter will be his first and best flight. 

 The business of the dog is to run him gamely and 

 fast, the horse's part is to stretch himself till his 

 belly almost sweeps the grass, to drum off a mad 

 burst of speed, and to mind where he puts his feet, 

 for a burrow carelessly stepped in may mean a 

 broken leg, a parabolic flight for the rider, a 

 few impromptu flipflaps, or possibly one or two 

 broken necks. The man's task is to stick on and 

 yell in fair proportion. 



Here, surely, is action to suit the wildest mad- 

 cap who ever rowelled a nag or staked his neck 

 on the hazard of a manly venture. And it is 

 clean, wholesome, dashing sport, too, in the fair- 

 est of fair fields where all favors must needs be 

 won. Impossible in the forested East, where 

 tree boles and boughs only recognize the wonder- 

 ful human frame as so much desirable fertilizer, 

 it might be made a grand sport of the leagues 

 upon leagues of plains which offer the necessary 

 scope, and ask only the proper legal protection of 

 the quarry. 



But the desperate chase is on ! The gobbler, 

 after his quick starting run, beats his way upward 

 on mottled fans, then steadies to his horizontal 

 flight. It is so easy. It is true that the grass 

 spreads like a sleeping sea for miles ahead, but 

 what of that? He is a winged thing, and is a 



