ANGLING FOR A WILD TURKEY. 



167 



the gobbler the spring of 

 it. The sudden check 

 took him unawares. His 

 head was pulled to one 

 side, his legs tangled up, 

 and over he went. His 

 wings and legs were go- 

 ing every way for Sun- 

 day, reminding me for all 

 the world of a big rooster 

 with his head cut off. 

 Then he made a lucky 

 jump, landed squarely on 

 his feet, and such a " ras- 

 sle " as he gave me I 

 never had before. 



All this time I was 

 walking toward him reel- 

 ing in the line as I went. 



Several times the same 

 process of rolling and 

 tumbling was gone 

 through with. He was 

 putting a terrible strain 

 on my line and my 9- 

 ounce rod; but they were 

 of good quality and held 

 him all right. 



A new dodge was now 

 taken and after getting on 

 his feet again he under- 

 took to fly across the 

 river. If handling a 5 

 pound bass in the water, 

 on a fly rod, is fun, it may 

 be known that a 17 pound 

 turkey, in the air, is 

 more. If a flying bird is 

 thrown off his balance he 

 will fall, and so it was in 

 this case; for down came 

 Mr. Gobbler in the water, 

 with a mighty splash. 



Luke had by this time 

 awakened, and taking in 

 the situation had been lit- 

 erally rolling on the 

 ground with laughter; 

 but had now recovered 

 enough to begin to give 

 advice as to how to handle my catch. If 

 there is one thing more annoying than an- 

 other, when handling a doubtful case, it is 

 to have some one who is outside the game 

 telling you how to do it. Usually instruc- 

 tions are not resented; but this time I w r as 

 so annoyed I told him to shut up. 



If the gobbler rolled and tumbled when 

 on land, the fuss he made in the water was 

 incomparably greater. The bank was very 

 steep and about 5 feet high. In reeling up, 

 I had come too close to the edge. I stepped 

 on a crumbling edge and went heels over 

 head into water waist deep. 



In my fall I had held on to the rod which 

 fortunately had not been injured, and as the 

 turkey could not swim away, or run away, 



DOWN CAME MR. GOBBLER IN THE WATER." 



it was not long before I reeled in short 

 enough to be able to hold his head under 

 water and so_ drown him. Then I towed 

 him ashore. I didn't mind the wetting and 

 my clothes were soon dried out. 



On cutting the hook out from the gob- 

 bler's gullet I found the fly was badly dam- 

 aged and it still is; but I prize it highly and 

 shall always keep it as a souvenir. 



If the rope don't break before my vaca- 

 tion time comes I shall again visit the old 

 grounds to see if my hand has lost its cun- 

 ning. My route is via the Burlington and 

 the Hannibal and St. Joseph railway. Along 

 these lines are any number of good places 

 for hunting and fishing; but I prefer the Salt 

 river country, for it was there 1 was raised. 



