402 
Forest and Stream 
THE WILD TURKEY IN OHIO 
Ucar Forest and Stream: 
O F all the sports that arouse the latent 
energies of the hunter, sharpen his 
vision, awake the auditory nerves and 
stimulate the valvular muscles of the 
heart, there is none more fascinating 
than stalking the wild turkey. I have 
followed the deer through forest swamps 
and vale; I have tracked bruin and 
aroused him from his lair, but no excite- 
ment has quite stimulated all of the 
activities of emotion, or given zest to 
anticipation equal to that of following 
a flock of wild turkeys. There is no ani- 
mal or fowl of the wild that possesses 
greater sagacity than the turkey. 
The deer may, and probably will, tarry 
long enough to have a look in the direc- 
tion of suspicion, but the turkey runs or 
sails away with the first premonition of 
danger. There is usually a leader who 
has the safety of the flock under his 
care, and even when they are feeding his 
alert ear and sharp eye are ever ready 
to give warning, when each and all of 
the flock respond to the call to flee or 
fly. I have crawled on hands and knees 
for many rods to reach an obstruction 
that promised a shot, only to find when 
I reached there that every turkey had so 
silently stolen away that I had not heard 
the motion of a wing. 
Ohio, the country of my nativity, is 
for the most part level, with here and 
there a ridge where beech trees grow, 
and it was on these ridges, about sixty 
years ago, while in search of nuts in the- 
fall, that turkeys were to be found. On 
account of the elevation of these ridges, 
the turkeys were able to scan the lower 
land, and it was always difficult to ap- 
proach them. Some hunters were quite 
expert with the quill-call, and when the 
turkeys were scattered they could often 
call individuals to within gun shot. 
I shall never forget my first turkey 
hunt, when a boy of fifteen. One even- 
ing, along in the fall, when the corn was 
in the shock, and the yellow pumpkins 
dotted the field, father came in and said 
he had just seen a large flock of turkeys 
leave the corn field and go into the 
woods. As it was then getting dark, he 
said they would roost nearby. He told 
me that if I wished to show my dexterity 
as a turkey hunter, now was my time; 
that if I would get up before daylight 
and go down there and keep my eyes 
and ears open f might get a shot. 
The old flint-lock rifle was put in 
order, loaded and everything gotten 
ready for an early start. I slept but 
little as 1 waited mother's call. At last 
I heard her say, “Bub, it is time to go 
after your turkeys.” I did not tarry. 
The first thing was to tie the dog, lest he 
follow me. Father got up and took the 
gun from over the door, examined the 
priming in the pan, placed it in my 
hands, and with words of caution started 
me on my first turkey hunt. 
Imagine a boy of fifteen, a' little under 
size, dressed in tow-linen shirt and pants, 
with perhaps one suspender, carrying a 
long, heavy old Kentucky flint-lock rifle 
that had done service in the hands of his 
grandfather in Indian warfare, and you 
will have a fair picture of little Frank 
Mack and his outfit, on that memorable 
morning. 
I w'ended my way down through the 
orchard, crossed the cow lot, over into 
the corn field, then across to the woods 
where there was a gap in the fence and 
where the turkeys had crossed. The 
morning was ideal, not a zephyr caused 
the trembling of a leaf. There was a 
faint streak of light in the eastern sky 
but it was still quite dark in the wood 
as I carefully entered it and sat down 
on a log to listen, wonder and. wait. 
There was not a sound to, be heard, ex- 
cept the throb of my heart which flut- 
tered with emotion. 
As the light advanced I moved a little 
farther into the forest of trees, but 
could see but little as the heavy foliage 
covered all with a mantle of gloom. But 
my sense of hearing was acute, and 
finally I heard a slight sound, as if a 
twig or bit of bark had fallen on the 
dry leaves. Cautiously I moved in that 
direction. Again something fell. I 
finally located the spot by a large spread- 
ing elm. I approached within easy 
shooting distance and took a position hy 
a tree. The light slowly advanced. Bits 
of bark continued to fall, and at last I 
located where they came from. There 
was a cluster of leaves, and just beyond 
it there was a dark object about the size 
of a turkey. I raised the gun and 
pressed it against the tree, but the sights 
w’ere dark and I waited. 
It seemed light out in the open field, 
but under the trees there was heavy 
shade. 
Finally from the opposite side of the 
tree a turkey flapped its wdngs and sailed 
away. It was time to act. I drew hack 
the flint and raised the gun again against 
the tree. I could hardly see the sights 
but sighted along the barrel as best 1 
could and pressed the trigger. There was 
a flash, a report, a commotion up in the 
tree, and with a thud a turkey hit the 
ground. Never was a boy more proud.; 
I yelled like an Indian and started for. 
the house. Father and mother met me 
in the orchard and ‘how pleased they I 
were ! It was a fine young gobbler] 
weighing ten pounds. 
B. F. Mack, New York. ; 
OVER THE SHOULDER 
Dear Forest and Stre.am : 
M any years ago I saw— I am quite 
sure — statements or intimations in 
books about wild animals, that certain I 
carnivorous animals — I seem to remem- j 
ber the tiger and the panther — after 
killing their prey, often /rr sometimes 
transport it by throwing it over the, 
shoulder and carrying it off in that man- 
ner. I cannot recall where these state- 
ments are found; but I suspect that I 
first saw them in some English book on 
hunting, dealing perhaps with the early 
or middle years of the last century. The 
same statement was made in a modern 
book, but this, I think, did not speak ofj 
the act by large carnivorous mammals] 
but by small ones, as perhaps the fox 
or raccoon. ; 
I have been observing wild animals 
for many years, but probably never saw; 
one carry off a large prey. The im- 
pression received from the books re- 
ferred to was that the predatory animal! 
threw what it had killed across its bade 
and, still holding the prey in its mouth, 
supported it on its shoulders and fore- 
back,- instead of holding it up from the] 
ground by the strength of the muscles 
of the neck as a dog would hold a bird, 
a package, or whatever it had to trans- 
port in the mouth. 
A panther that had killed a deer prob-' 
ably could not take the animal in its] 
mouth, lift it up and carry it off as a 
dog carries a bird. The deer would he-l 
too heavy and too limp and loose. But] 
why should the panther- wish to carry] 
the prey away to some other place? Itj 
might well enough drag it a short dis- 
tance. : 
Has any reader of Forest and 
STREAjsr ever seen a wild carnivorous 
animal, or even a tame carnivorous ani- 
mal, carry its food in this way — thrown] 
over its back? I should greatly like to] 
know. I 
My association with hig game hunters] 
runs back over years, and I never heard , 
that such a practice had been observed. | 
It is evident that such an operation as 1 
is suggested by the words, “throwing it 
over his shoulder,” would very seldom^ 
he seen. Is there one particle of tcsti-1 
mony by an eye-witness that this ever - 
has been seen ? Can any one give a - 
reference to such a statement in any ■ 
book ? Questioner. | 
