a8o The Turkey Family 



close range and afford a comparatively easy chance. 

 After securing it, the man will sling it over his 

 back and again follow the flock until another di- 

 verging track is noted. 



The man with the rifle pays no attention to the 

 side tracks because the promised chance means 

 a flying shot, or at the best a glimpse of the bird 

 running at full speed. At either of these the rifle 

 is practically useless, for a kill under such condi- 

 tions would be merely a fluke. The rifleman 

 therefore sticks to the trail of the flock; and if he 

 be game enough to try for the noblest trophy, he 

 will devote his closest attention to the biggest 

 track. It is the mark of the old gobbler, the king 

 of the lot, and — the hardest to get. 



He is the strongest and, from his age and ex- 

 perience, the craftiest of them all; and the man 

 who walks him down will surely earn his prize. 

 One after another wearied birds slip to one side, 

 but the big track leads on through the roughest 

 scrub and over ridge beyond ridge. The man 

 slips after, like a shadow stealing from point to 

 point, and with keen eyes ever searching the 

 cover ahead. 



After perhaps hours of cautious trailing, he sud- 

 denly sees a dark object zigzagging between the 

 trunks, then another and another. Perhaps four 

 or five turkeys are still following their big leader, 

 and most likely all of them are tired. Now comes 



