162 
[Auo. 28, 1897. 
A TURKEY OF THE WILDERNESS. 
Men seek their pleasures variously after their kind, but 
he who has lived the active life of the hunter in uninhabited 
lands knows Well that in those remrt • regions there may be 
found enjoyment that civilization cannot yield him. Wan- 
derers such" as he will recall the sharp crack of the rifle on 
wind-swept mountain sides ; in their ears the reverberations yet 
ring as they sounded in echoing canons; and clearly do they 
remember the fainter, hoUower reports on those open plains 
the prong-buck loves so well. With these sounds there come 
back memories of a hundred scenes in woodland and on 
prairie, each one, perhaps, marking a red-letter day in the 
hunter's life afield. The pleasures of the sportsman need no 
champion, even though other fields of effort ofi'er inviting 
opportunities for recreation. 
But it is not alone the enjoyment of the chase that attracts 
men to the wilderness. The wild, free life, untrammeled by 
the conventions of society: the charm of wandering in 
regions untouched by hand of man; the open, hearty com- 
radeship about the camp-fire — all these combine to draw men 
to the far-off mountains and the plains. You who are wont 
to ride straight and hard behind the hounds and to be in at 
the death when the run is over, know the sharp zest of a 
flisli that may tempt your palate; but of them all there Should 
be granted the highest praise to the wild turkey, that lias 
told off its days in the wooded country it loves so well. Nor 
is it less beautiful in life than it is delicious to the taste, when 
the scattered sunrays of its native haunts gleam on its 
plumage of broni;e and green and gold. Gamy it is, too, in 
the field as well as on the table, and he who hunts it must go 
with a light tread and a, quick eye; for, be it understood, it 
is no easy task to "call" the turkey within range, and still- 
hunting it is more difficult than a' ill-hunting deer. Wary 
and keen-sighted is it, and quick of ear, with a speed on foot 
that makes fast running for a dog, and a swiftness on the 
wing, once it is under way, that will astonish him who 
knows only the domestic variety. Moreover, he who hunts 
it need be steady of hand and should hold true, since it car- 
ries shot well and mu-t be hard hit before it will give up the 
fight. 
All this I learned before a turkey fell to my gun, for on 
previous hunts 1 had buraed powde vainly in their pursuit. 
But'itwas.my luck that the first should come to bag on a 
day when it was least expected. It was a bleak gray morn- 
ing in late November, and our camp lay at the foot of the 
Kiamichi Moun ains, in Indian Territory. Before us the 
long line of the first range led to the west; behind us. be- 
yond the wide level of bottom land, the Kiamichi Eiver 
flowed between its tringes of cottonwood trees. From the 
crest of the '-Kimish" to the river that washed the further 
extensions of its foothills, a deep stillness was on the land; 
to sheer od to the right or left. The turkey appeared to 
grow larger as it approached, until when it came within rifle 
range it looked to my excited eyes a 40 pounder at least. It 
was then probably a mile from the point where it had been 
flushed, and seemed to think it had reached a place of safety. 
My first intention had been to let it come within easy range, 
and then try a shot or two on the wing as it went by, but its 
purpose to light at the edge of the thicket soon became evi- 
dent. Lower and lower it dropped in its flight as it neared 
me. I knew that if a moment were given it after I had 
made my presence known, it would secrete itself in the heavy 
Undergrowth and I should lose it Quickness was necessary; 
1 waited until it bad thrown back its wings and stretched its 
legs to alight, and then tossed up my rifle and fired. It was 
an easy shot, 70yds, in the open, and the shot went true. 
The big bird fell over on its back, and for a few momenta 
thrashed about vigorously with its strong wings. I threw 
another cartridge into the chamber of my rifls, but it was not 
needed; the first had done the work, The last struggle 
ended as T stood above it. and with a feeling of such keen 
pleasure as I think does not often fall to the hunter's lot, I 
picked up my first wild turkey. It was a very little triumph, 
perhaps, and luck alone gave" me the chance; but luck is a 
factor that plays a great part in every province of human 
endeavor, and men sometimes take credit for what is granted 
tfcem by chance alone. 
I have known other Thanksgiving Days since then, but 
when each passing year rolls on, bringing November with its 
Al^ INDIAN TERRITORY CABIN. 
place in the '-first flight," and the satisfaction of a stiff fence 
cleverly negotiated; you of the "brassie" and the "driver" 
are, perhaps, the holder of a score on the links that has won 
you the-envy of enthusiastic golfers, and that gladdens your 
heart even when snows lie deep; and you, yachtsman, fresh 
from a battle with the gale, beyond all doubi you felt a thrill 
of contentment as your staunch craft, storm-racked and ice- 
sheathed from deck to main-truck, at last swung clear to her 
anchor in the landlocked harbor. Grant, if you please, that 
pleasure at least as great may come to him who e rifle brings 
to earth the gigantic moose, the lordly elk, the agile big-born 
or the fierce grizzly of western ranges. These are the keen- 
est delights that are known to him who hunts in the United 
States, but there are lesser triumphs which the big game 
hunter need not sneer at The killiag of the game, as every 
hunter knows, is but a part of the pleasure of the chase; 
ttere are many other factors in the sport The obstacles 
overcome, the wariness circumvented, the hardships en- 
dured—such are other components that go to make the hunt 
worth while, and whether the bag be great or small, the 
satisfaction is, as it should be, a thing apart. 
When the cool winds of autumn and the crisp frosts of 
early winter have worked their changes in the summer land- 
scape; when the football player appears upon his battlefields 
in the pink of condition; when the coming of the open sea- 
son has aroused the sportsman to a realization of possible 
bags to be made in forest land or on the plains, then it is that 
the wild lurkey gobbler, the monarch of American game 
birds, roams his native heaths in his most kingly manner. 
It was a fortunate selection that named the turkey as the 
dish sacred to the day when afl the nation renders thanks for 
divine favors granted; yet the ordinary turkey of the market 
is hy no means the best of his race. Far above the finest of 
the tame species must the wild variety be ranked as a table 
delicacy, and as Thanksgiving Day approaches, the mind of 
him whose chief pleasure is found afield may well hark back 
to those happy bunting grounds where nature works her will 
with her own and the turkey of the wilderness thrives upon 
the food that suits it best. There in some favored regions 
where the telegraph does not reach and mail sacks do not 
penetrate, may be found the largest and the wariest of our 
American feathered game. 
Many are the ways in which the wild turkey is brought to 
bag, but he who would shoot one that has been lured to the 
"blind" in which he bides by a bait of dropped corn,-or he 
who would attempt to kill more tban one at a shot, is a man 
without the conscience of the true sportsman. An honorable 
spirit of fair play will permit neither of these methods — the 
pot-hunter is bred of such as employ them, and of such are 
the game butchers who here and there in the north wait in 
their boats to slaughter the deer their hounds have driven 
into the water. And yet, perhaps, a partial t xcuse may be 
offered in their behalf, for vain indeed is the confidence of 
the tyro who unaided goes after the vigdant. Mekagris 
americam. Inevitable disappointment will follow on Ms 
trail, and the "phut! phut!" of the frightened birds will tell 
him, when his hopes are highest, that his efforts are of no 
avail. 
Nevertheless, it is well worth the candle; for of all the 
game that goes, feathered or furred, on wing or afoot, 
the -wild turkey is the most toothsome. Smg, if you will, the 
gastronomic virtues of the celery -fed canvasback, the well- 
cookoi woodcock, the fragrant venison steak, or any other 
AN INDIAN TERRITORY FERRY. 
unbroken quiet brooded over the pine-clad mountainside and 
the oak-covered outlying ridges, and overhung the sun- 
burned prairie. No breath of wind stirred the trees or 
moved the vapory clouds that were poised in the sky over- 
head. The gently rolling country in which our tents were 
pitched was wooded with stunted oak trees and the ground 
was fairly well strewn with "mast." It was a morning 
when our Indian guides urged us to take out the hounds and 
hunt the country to the west on the chance of getting a deer 
or two. The region was not the most promising for a suc- 
cessful deer hunt, and moreover our Indians were no ex- 
ception to the general rule that the so-called noble red men 
are but indifferent hunters. Had they not shown unusual 
persistence we should, perhaps, have done otherwise, but be 
that as it may, our party filed out across the little praii'ie 
shortly after sunrise, to follow where the head guide might 
lead. Past the clay-splashed wagon standing empty in the 
dried grass, pist the picketed ponies munching their farly 
meal, over rocks and through thickets, we tramped after our 
Indian leader. He took us to the timbered country below 
our camp, and posted us here andj there at runways along 
which it seemed likely the deer would pass, until he had put 
every man in position. 
My "stard" was at tbe end of a little stretch of open 
gri und, on a low ridge. On either side the slopes were 
clothed all about with a rather thick growth of oak and 
cedar tr- es, while across the open and to the left lay a jungle 
of heavy undergrowth that reached off to the northwest, its 
end just touching the bare ridge down which 1 faced. It 
was not primeval forest that surrounded me, for here and 
there could be seen evidences that lumbermen had penet'ated 
to the place in search of cfdar, and it wan upon a cedar 
stump that I took my seat to wait for what the morning 
might bring forth. 
I was almost tte last mm the g lida placed, which put me 
near the end of the line of guns that crossed the territory in 
which we expected the deer to run. Tlie hoofbeats of the 
guide's horse grew fainter In the .distance, and I was left 
alone A great plicated woodpecker, with shining body and 
brilliant scarlet crest, hanimercd on a tree above me; a taxi- 
dermist would have coveted hij skin. The minutes passed 
slowly. To tbe man upon a deer stand there comes a time, 
before the hounds give tongue, when the possibility of shots 
to be had if be will but remain fights with his restless 
desire for movement; bat after the dogs have taken a trail 
the pulse quickens and every sense and every muscle grows 
alert at the promise that is wafted down the wind by the 
sonorous, irregular baying. Then the chance of recompense, 
even though it be remote, makes inaction more tolerable. 
The morning wore on. Delay was fast growing irksome, 
when from down the line of huntsrs to the right 1 heard the 
clear reports of two rifleshots. What did it mean? The 
hounds had not opened on a trail, and it could scarcely 
chance that a deer or a bear would blunder within ranae of 
any of our men. I sat open-eyed and ready, looking toward 
the sound. For the space of two or three minutes there was 
no movement to be seen ; then as I watched I caught sight 
of the rapidly beating wings of a turkey as it came with a 
beautiful sweep through the timber. 
On it flaw, straight toward me. I was almost in the open; 
only the scatt^red branches of a fallen tree were before me as 
cover. Still as a wooden man I sat, scarcely daring to breathe, 
for I knew that the slightest motion would cause my quarry 
promise of snow, I like to recall that winter morning when, 
through the little forest glade, my first wild turkey came 
sailing almost to my feet. Allan Hbndeicks. 
CAPTURED BY THE CROWS. 
The following story was told me by an old employee of 
the American Fur Company, who had worked for that com- 
pany and its different trading posts along the Missouri River 
in the years from 1858 to 1860. The hero of the story is 
known by the name of Jim, and his stories of the old days, 
when the American Fur Company traded with the Montana 
Indians, and also with the Blackfeet, who used to come far 
south and trade along the Missouri River, would fill a vol- 
ume of adventures, and also of so strange a nature that thor 
old saying that truth is stranger than fiction is well borne,; 
out. 
The American Fur Company had, in the year 1858, jusfe; 
finished building their fort on tbe Missouri River, situated 
where the town of Fort Benton was afterward built. "Thia,^ 
fort was built of sun-dried bricks, called adobes, and be- 
tween each building a high stockade of pine logs was erected,, 
the whole forming a square with bastions at the four cor- 
ners, these being supplied with small cannon which ]iad,,oai 
more than one occasion, to be used against war parties ot"' 
Indians bent on making a raid on the fort; or to protect, 
trading parties of Indians who were ramprd round the fort,, 
and who were attacked by some force of foreign Indians) 
hostile toward them. Often, camps of Blackfeet of many 
hundred lodges would be around the fort at a time, and 
should a party of Crows or Sioux happen to arrive at the 
same time a fierce fight would always take place; when the 
fort would be closed, and a careful watch kept on both par- 
ties, who were allowed to fight it out until one or other had 
enough, and would then sheer off, when the trading would 
again be resumed. 
In those days liquor was traded to the Indiana at these 
forts, but they_ were never allowed to drink it inside the 
stockade, and it was seldom that a large trading parly left 
their camp outside the fort without a prolonged drunk, in 
which many old feuds were remembered, with the result of 
sometimes many Indians being killed, as the Indian, when 
drunk, is more like a wild beast than a human being. The 
number of robes traded during the winters at these forts was 
astonishing, as often in the spring as many as 20,000 prime 
buffalo robes would be shipped down the Missouri River in. 
mackinaws, or boats built for that purpose, and these were 
obtained very cheaply, as goods and liquors of a very infe-. 
rior quality were held at an exorbitant figure, a sack of flour 
selling in trade for $30 and tea at $3 tbe pound ; all other' 
goods being in proportion, particularly ammunition, whick 
the Indians were bound to have at any price, 
Thi? was before the days of magazine rifles and fixed am- 
munitioT], the old smooth-bore guns being used with powder 
and ball; these went by the name of fulquea, and would carry 
fairly well up to 100yds. 
In the fall of 1858 a party of some twenty-five men, of 
which Jim was one, was sent by the fur company to the 
Belt Mountains, about forty miles irom Benton, to remain 
the winter cutting limber for the use of the fort and which • 
would be hauled down to the fort the following spring by 
bull teams, which consisted of twelve or more yoke of oxen 
