The Wild Turkey 273 



jaws spread, then close with a snap like a wolf- 

 trap. Six feet above the grass, the long, white 

 fangs find welcome sheath, and when the tangle 

 of mottled wings and panting dog unravels itself, 

 there are several widowed turkey ladies some- 

 where in the distant scrub. 



Two minutes later the horse's heaving flanks 

 are working behind a slackened cinch ; the man 

 is lying on the grass and laughing at the dog, for 

 that worthy — breathing like a locomotive, and 

 with about a foot of tongue swinging from his 

 dripping jaws — is clawing himself along on his 

 belly in an earnest attempt to get closer to the 

 only animal that would ever attempt to make 

 other animals almost burst their hearts and run 

 their legs off, just for fun ! 



If coursing turkeys be not sport, then there 

 is no merit in dash and action, which, under 

 proper conditions, it certainly should supply. 

 To my notion, too, there might be a deal of 

 sport in hawking turkeys, in the same sort of 

 country. 



The "calling," or "yelping," is not the simple 

 matter which the uninitiated might deem it. The 

 chief difficulty is found, first, in correctly imitating 

 the love-call of the hen, and second in crouching, 

 maybe for a long while, perfectly still. Those 

 who think keeping perfectly still an easy occu- 

 pation, are either ignorant or thoroughly seasoned, 



