29° The Turkey Family 



When I dared get off him, I said he weighed 

 twenty pounds. Joe said twenty-five. Before I 

 had packed him a mile I said fifty. 



Upon another occasion I went into the same 

 woods alone. Fate was busy that day. At the 

 very first bit of marsh, before even a fresh track 

 was expected, a big turkey came flying directly 

 toward me. I chanced to see him when he rose 

 a long way off, and there was no need to stir a 

 foot. It was the easiest and most perfect chance 

 ever I had. He was up perhaps thirty yards, and 

 his line of flight would have carried him exactly 

 over my head. The picture he made will never 

 be forgotten. Full in the dazzling sunshine he 

 came, a perfect glory of gold and bronze and pur- 

 ple. He was magnificent as he bore down on 

 the foe that he never saw. For a moment I 

 thought of dropping the gun, waiting, and grab- 

 bing him by neck or leg — I have always re- 

 gretted that I did not try it. The catch would 

 indeed have been a unique experience, and I 

 firmly believe it could have been accomplished. 

 Instead, I cut his head off at about ten yards' 

 range, and to do it cleanly I had to shift ground. 

 He fell almost in my tracks, where I had stood. 



Presently came a stoutish, country-looking 

 fellow and a younger chap, following the bird. 

 They made no claim, but greatly admired the 



