CAMERA HUNTING FOR TURKEYS 243 



melt into a rosy hue, and suddenly out of the deep 

 swamp came the shrill, gutteral but mighty 

 pleasing " Gil-obble — obble, obble" of a tur- 

 key, echoing along the slopes and through the 

 vales of the surrounding forests. 



After a while we heard him gobble on the 

 ridge, so I took my call and began to pipe a few 

 words in turkey vernacular, which the old gen- 

 tleman seemed to comprehend by the way he 

 gave ready reply. By this time the turkeys had 

 all flown down, several gobbling in as many 

 directions. Several were approaching slowly, 

 and we could hear them below the crest of the 

 hill. Luck favored us, so far as nothing yet had 

 disturbed them, and they gradually came nearer, 

 until presently a remark from my companion, 

 "Old Gobbler in sight?" "See him coming, 

 two of them, yes, three"; and on they came, 

 their great black breasts glowing in the bright 

 sun, while their long beards swung from side to 

 side. 



Suddenly, when within thirty paces of us, one 

 of them spied Renaud's new drab corduroy cap, 

 which contrasted vividlv with the black and 



