"OLD INJUN r CHIEF OF THE COHARIE 



17 



It was late in the afternoon that, 

 weary with inaction, I set out along 

 the edge of the swamp in hope of shoot- 

 ing a squirrel. This I did against the 

 earnest protest of my companion, whose 

 patience was seemingly inexhaustible. 

 I had not proceeded far before a dis- 

 tant scratching in the leaves attracted 

 my attention. Creeping cautiously to- 

 ward the sound, I at length approached 

 near enough to discover a fine flock of 

 turkeys feeding on acorns which they 

 raked up out of the leaves. I noted 

 among the flock two huge gobblers, one 

 black and the other bronze ; and even 

 from the distance I detected that the 

 big bronze gobbler — "Old Injun" — ■ 

 was losing caste. He lagged behind 

 the others ; the droop of his tail sug- 

 gested a broken spirit. But all his old 

 watchfulness remained. For a few 

 moments I was so absorbed in watch- 

 ing the feeding flock that I forgot my 

 rifle. Then I carefully raised it and 

 instinctively took aim at the big black 

 gobbler. I had him completely covered 

 and my finger was pressing the trigger 

 when a twig, upon which I had unwit- 

 tingly stepped, snapped beneath my 

 feet. In a twinkling the bronze gob- 

 bler gave the warning and the flock 

 were off into the swamp. Disgusted, 

 sick at heart, I returned to my com- 

 panion. It seemed that fate fought for 

 "Old Injun," the bronze gobbler, and 

 for his feathered tribe. 



As we sat behind one clog-root wait- 

 ing for the brief twilight, I thought of 

 a new plan of deceiving the turkeys. 

 Accordingly I arranged the turkey 

 which I had shot in the morning in a 

 position as near life-like as possible 

 and bade the old hunter use his call. 

 This he did with consummate skill. In 

 a little while there were answering 

 yelps, which came nearer and nearer. 



My heart beat so high with the success 

 of the venture that I could scarcely 

 steady my rifle, for the entire flock, 

 having perceived the turkey decoy, 

 were coming toward us. Suddenly, 

 however, the hens hesitated and held 

 back among the undergrowth, but we 

 noted that two big gobblers, the black 

 and the bronze, came steadily forward. 

 Finally they were in range. I could 

 not help observing the rivalry which 

 existed between them. It was plainly 

 apparent, too, that the big bronze fel- 

 low was afraid of the other's growing 

 power and influence. 



The black gobbler being at the most 

 convenient angle for me, and having 

 somewhat against him, I signalled my 

 companion to shoot the bronze. Sud- 

 denly, at the sign, I fired, and my gob- 

 bler, shot through the head, leaped 

 high off the ground and plunged stone 

 dead a few yards away. But, to my 

 infinite surprise, the veteran hunter 

 failed to fire, allowing "Old Injun" to 

 rise and whistle off to the swamp, a 

 majestic sweep of wing marking his 

 flight. I turned to the old man 

 for explanation, and beheld conflict- 

 ing emotions playing in his rugged 

 face. 



"I jes' couldn't shoot him," he burst 

 out ; "somehow I suddently cum ter pity 

 'Old Injun,' an' I made up my mind 

 ter let -him live till he got ready ter die. 

 Wen you decided ter shoot the black 

 gobbler, I made up my mind ter give 

 the old bronze back his place ez leader 

 uv the flock. He ain't nuthin but er 

 turkey, but I handled him w'en he wuz 

 er pore puny leetle feller an' I can't 

 somehow fergit thet he wunst sorter 

 nestled in my hand." 



Somehow it seemed right and proper 

 that there were tears in the old back- 

 woodsman's eyes. 



