44 
THE WILD TURKEY. 
tail as a support, stretch forward their neck, and striking out their legs with 
great vigour, proceed rapidly towards the shore ; on approaching which, 
should they find it too steep for landing, they cease their exertions for a few 
moments, float down the stream until they come to an accessible part, and 
by a violent effort generally extricate themselves from the water. It is 
remarkable that immediately after thus crossing a large stream, they ramble 
about for some time, as if bewildered. In this state, they fall an easy prey 
to the hunter. 
When the Turkeys arrive in parts where the mast is. abundant, they 
separate into smaller flocks, composed of birds of all ages and both sexes, 
promiscuously mingled, and devour all before them. This happens about 
the middle of November. So gentle do they sometimes become after these 
long journeys, that they have been seen to approach the farm-houses, asso- 
ciate with the domestic fowls, and enter the stables and corn-cribs in quest 
of food. In this way, roaming about the forests, and feeding chiefly on 
mast, they pass the autumn and part of the winter. 
As early as the middle of February, they begin to experience the impulse 
of propagation. The females separate, and fly from the males. The latter 
strenuously pursue, and begin to gobble or to utter the notes of exultation. 
The sexes roost apart, but at no great distance, from each other. When a 
female utters a call-note, all the gobblers within hearing return the sound, 
rolling note after note with as much rapidity as if they intended to emit the 
last and the first together, not with spread tail, as when fluttering round the 
females on the ground, or practising on the branches of the trees on which 
they have roosted for the night, but much in the manner of the domestic 
Turkey, when an unusual or unexpected noise elicits its singular hubbub. 
If the call of the female comes from the ground, all the males immediately 
fly towards the spot, and the moment they reach it, whether the hen be in 
sight or not, spread out and erect their tail, draw the head back on the 
shoulders, depress their wings with a quivering motion, and strut pompously 
about, emitting at the same time a succession of puffs from the lungs, and 
stopping now and then to listen and look. But whether they spy the 
female or not, they continue to puff and strut, moving with as much celerity 
as their ideas of ceremony seem to admit. While thus occupied, the males 
often encounter each other, in which case desperate battles take place, ending 
in bloodshed, and often in the loss of many lives, the weaker falling under 
the repeated blows inflicted upon their head by the stronger. 
I have often been much diverted, while watching two males in fierce 
conflict, by seeing them move alternately backwards and forwards, as either 
had obtained a better hold, their wings drooping, their tails partly raised, 
their body-feathers ruffled, and their heads covered with blood. If, as they 
