210 THE WILD TURKEY AND ITS^HUNTING 



yards away. But you are silent. Again comes a 

 long pause, and you think he has detected you 

 and gone. A red tail hawk darts screaming 

 through the timber, and, " Gil-obble-obble-obble 

 cluck v-r-r-r-o-o-m-i" goes your bird thirty yards 

 nearer; then all is silent again. He has made a 

 strenuous effort to draw your call, but you are 

 deaf. Another long pause and you are in a 

 tremor all over. He has quit making any noise, 

 and the stillness is painful for, save a solitary red 

 bird trilling his carol in yon elm, and a gray squir- 

 rel nibbling the buds on that slender maple, all is 

 still. Two chameleons are racing on the log 

 behind which you are crouching, and, springing 

 suddenly to the dry leaves, they startle you with 

 the clattering they make, so highly strung are 

 your nerves; but you dare not move. 



Why this insufferable silence ? The gobbler is 

 coming, but when will he appear? Your rifle 

 is in position, cocked, your eye running along 

 the glistening barrel, but that is all of you which 

 is allowed to move. A distant dead tree falls 

 with a heavy thud that shakes the earth. " Gil- 

 obble-obble-obble" breaks upon your ear and sends 



