240 THE WILD TURKEY AND ITS HUNTING 



storm raged — not a day passed that I was not 

 after turkey pictures, sometimes not seeing one 

 in two or three weeks, then again encountering 

 twenty -five to forty in one day. I spoiled several 

 hundred plates in this time, snapping at every 

 chance that occurred. There is no possibility 

 of a time exposure on such sensitive birds, and one 

 twenty -fifth of a second is scarcely quick enough. 

 Often the click of the shutter, so like the snap of 

 a gun when missing fire, sent them whirling into 

 the air or scattered them, pellmell, afoot. I have 

 stalked and crawled to their scratching places 

 and sat concealed with camera masked on an 

 old log or in a hollow stump, till sundown; all 

 day, and the next and the next. 



I have made three or four exposures in a day, 

 gone home, developed the negatives, and found 

 nothing on them but shadows — taken in shade; 

 but at other times there was the just reward 

 when all the plates came out with every image 

 "perfect." Then, again, it would rain almost 

 daily for a month or two. Still I went, camera 

 slung over my shoulder, covered with a rubber 

 sheet, hoping for sunshine. 



