TURKEY SHOOTING 443 
ground, when I suddenly saw the flock, only about 
forty yards to my left. The birds had not seen me, 
and were walking quietly along in single file, following 
a course directly parallel to the one I had taken. They 
presented a fine sight, and I was strongly tempted to 
shoot, but on second thought decided to follow them 
until they roosted. Moving quietly out of sight in a 
small arroyo, I ran back a short distance and gave a 
low whistle, when my companion soon overtook me. 
Together we followed the birds, using great care not 
to show ourselves. Food had ceased to interest them, 
and they were evidently looking for a place to roost. 
They continued in single file, pausing occasionally to 
look warily about, until they reached some high ground 
overlooking a small canyon, along the slopes of which 
stood several tall dead pines. The leader, a fine old 
fellow, of unusual size, stopped, and the rest of the 
flock came trailing up, and gathered in a group facing 
the canyon. Several low, tremulous single notes, 
quir-r-r-rt, quir-r-r-rt, quir-r-r-rt, were uttered, and 
suddenly they took wing together and flew almost hori- 
zontally out to the branches of the dead trees. After 
leaving the ground no sound was heard except the 
heavy flapping of wings. A few moved into the tops 
of live trees a short distance farther down, but most 
of them remained in the dead ones. Their behavior 
was in marked contrast to that of the females and 
young. There was no crowding and no confusion, 
and in a remarkably short time they were settled for 
the night and all was quiet. From where I was lying 
