216 THE WILD TURKEY AND ITS HUNTING 



warded. He should use only one or two low, 

 coarse clucks, well measured and some time apart ; 

 then the low, muffled "Croc, croc.' 9 The young 

 gobbler may be sitting on the limb of a tall 

 cypress, hidden from view by a festoon of Span- 

 ish moss; or, if in a pine, hidden by the limbs, as 

 still as a part of the tree. " Croc, croc,''' and one 

 low, hoarse cluck, as if a nut had struck the bark 

 of a dead log in falling, are the only sounds you 

 dare to make. He is not so reckless in regard to 

 the call or answers as the hens, and not so ner- 

 vous. While he sits and contemplates, he meas- 

 ures notes; so that you have to be careful if 

 you would fool him. Now call, "Croc, croc' 9 

 His fears begin to dissipate, and running his 

 beak through his feathers, he makes his toilet. 

 This over, he slowly raises his long neck and head 

 and replies, " Croc, croc." " Cong, cong, croc, croc, 

 cluck" He turns his head with one side earth- 

 ward, and gives himself a convulsive shake — 

 "Croc, croc" He lifts up one foot and then slowly 

 puts it down; lifts one wing, placing its tip on 

 top of the other, then slips that one out and laps 

 it on the first. "Croc, croc, hee, hee" He looks 



