174 THE WILD TURKEY AND ITS HUNTING 



the old gobbler feels its impulses, and is not 

 slow in asserting his place as leader of the grand 

 aggregation of noisy choristers that make the 

 deep solitudes of the forests ring to the echo. 

 From some tall pine or cypress he loudly pro- 

 claims the approach of dawn. " Gil-obble-obble- 

 obble, quit, quit cut" comes the love-call from his 

 excited throat, so suddenly and unexpectedly 

 that all the smaller species within a hundred 

 yards are dazed with fright. I often thought 

 that, if he possessed any faculty of humor, he 

 must be greatly amused at the commotion he 

 creates all by himself. 



He stands erect on his high perch, peering in all 

 directions to determine the next thing to do, or to 

 ascertain the result of that already done, and it 

 often happens that this is the last and only gobble 

 he will produce that morning, owing to its being 

 accidental. But he will stand upon the limb of 

 his roost quietly looking about, and after preen- 

 ing his plumage for a few moments, and seeing 

 that no enemy lurks near, he stoops, spreading 

 his great curved wings, and silently as a summer's 

 breeze leaves the tree and sails to the earth fifty 



