FOREST AND STREAM. 
6 55 
Turkey Shooting in Australia. 
[Among the manifold varieties of game with 
;iich the Australian bush is so lavishly pro- 
led, there is none which offers more fascinat- 
y sport than the “brush,” or wild turkey 
. 'atheturns lathami.) These birds, being of a 
ry shy disposition, are most difficult to ap- 
; oach on foot, and the sportsman who thus tries 
i luck may consider himself very fortunate if 
is able to bag one or two in the course of a 
y. But if well mounted, he is far more cer- 
n of success, as the wild turkey seems to have 
-her a partiality for horses, and is not alarmed 
any extent at their approach. Of course, I 
ve occasionally come upon one of these birds 
iden in the scrub when on the lookout for 
ite different game, and when riding or driv- 
g through the bush. An odd one may be en- 
untered here and there, but for a good day’s 
ort it is necessary to know one of their par- 
:ular feeding grounds. 
Owing to the excellence of their flesh, and the 
ort they afford, these birds are much in re¬ 
vest. In some respects they resemble their 
vmestic relations, being about the same size, 
ith slightly bald heads, but they have longer 
ils and are of a very dark brown color, get- 
lg paler on the lower back and rump. Feed- 
g mostly on seed and grain, their favorite 
unts are the stubbly fields, but of course, owing 
the constant shooting of them in the thickly 
pulated farming districts of Victoria and South 
ustralia, they are becoming scarcer every year, 
d numbers of them are killed by the poisoned 
leat which is laid for the rabbits. But on the 
ck-countrv sheep and cattle stations they are 
ill to be found in goodly numbers. 
I well recollect a fine day’s sport which I en- 
yed in South Australia. Having to transact 
me business at a sheep station on the Murray, 
hich would necessitate a stay of about three 
.ys, the manager, a very old friend of mine, 
ade a welcome suggestion, “What do you say 
a day’s turkey shooting to-morrow?” he asked 
tring the evening, as we sat on the verandah 
his bungalow smoking our pipes. 
1 “Just the thing I should enjoy above every- 
ing,” was my reply; “but you know I haven t 
me here on a pleasure trip, and have neither 
i in nor rifle with me.” 
j “That’s all right, as luck happens, the goyer- 
' >r (station owner) has sent me a nice little 
le as a present, from Adelaide, and I havn’t 
operly tested it yet, so it will be a good op- 
Ttunity for me to do so. You can use my old 
ie, and I have a couple of nags that stand like 
rock under fire.” He further added, “We will 
art early, and as I know a couple of feeding 
i ounds, and seldom disturb the birds, I can 
omise you some real good sport. You know 
y wheat paddock up the creek,’’ my friend con- 
med, “we will go there first, and if I mistake 
itt shall be able to bag a couple there. Now I 
ill go and tell Sam to have our horses ready 
the morning.” Thus he left me, to give the 
cessary instructions, and on his return we 
i ch looked to our respective rifles, and, after 
Living everything ready, we turned in. 
j Early the following morning I was awakened 
Ah Fun?. the Chinese cook, and on stepping 
t on the verandah my host met me, who re- 
arked that the day was perfect for our out- 
| y. It was one of those invigorating, fresh 
ring mornings of the bush, when the veriest 
i-ssimist is glad to be alive, 
i Breakfast over, we each stuffed some sand- 
ches into the saddle bags. I strapped a tea 
| ly and two tin pannikins on to mine, while 
/ friend took charge of the water bag. Cliat- 
ig, as we leisurely rode along, we soon neared 
e wheat paddock, when my friend, with a 
encing gesture, pointed through the trees at 
far corner, where about fifteen or twenty birds 
‘re feeding and strutting about. Motioning me 
follow him, we made a rather wide detour, 
len again, with a gesture of his hand, he signed 
!r me to stop and keep silent. We were now 
out eighty or ninety yards from the birds 
>iong the timber. They had evidently heard 
| r approach, and were now on the qui vive. 
ing down over our horses as flat as we could, 
th rifles ready, they evidently took man and 
} 
Jl 
THEY EVIDENTLY TOOK MAN AND HORSE FOR ONE. 
From a drawing by R. Caton Woodville. 
horse for one, and began to feed again. For a 
few seconds we waited thus, when I saw my 
friend signal for me to pick out a bird on the 
left, while he selected one on the right. I saw 
him steadily take aim, and followed suit; and 
so, as if from one rifle, the report rang out, 
and two fine cock birds lay quivering on the 
ground. With the exception of a shake of the 
head, our horses had scarcely moved a muscle. 
There was a noisy and heavy fluttering of wings, 
and the flock had disappeared with the excep¬ 
tion of the two, which were strapped on to our 
saddles. 
As we remounted and rode away, my com¬ 
panion remarked that on our return home we 
should again pass this way. and probably find 
the same birds here again. We were now mak¬ 
ing for another likely spot, some considerable 
distance away. During our long ride the time 
passed pleasantly, for we were seldom able to' 
have a day or so together, and had much to 
talk about. Had we desired, we could have had 
plenty of other sport as we passed the various 
lagoons, in the shape of ducks, swans, pelicans 
and other waterfowl, while occasionally some 
emus could be seen crossing the track ahead of 
us. Suddenly I was again motioned to follow 
in silence, and after an absolutely quiet ride of 
about ten minutes, we dismounted, tethered our 
horses, and taking our rifles, we worked our 
way cautiously through some thick scrub, bor¬ 
dering an absolutely flat piece of ground, covered 
with thick green grass, like a well kept lawn. 
There were only two birds here, at which we 
took steady aim. but as I was behind in pulling 
the trigger I missed my aim, though my friend 
was succesful, and brought down another fine 
bird. Again remounting, we rode to the place 
where he had expected to find quite a colony, 
but before arriving on the scene a flock of 
cockatoos perceived us, and set up an unearthly 
screech, following us, and scaring the turkeys 
