[May 2, 1908. 
694 
the brant in the long sour bog grass invited an 
easy shot. When matters were straightened out 
Legrand and myself lost no time in starting a 
hunt for feathered game. 
The hunt began as soon as we stepped out¬ 
doors. Small bunches of ducks were passed by 
unnoticed. Legrand did not believe in wasting 
ammunition; I only had five hundred shells. 
Presently we heard the calling of a large num¬ 
ber of brant. That interested Legrand. The 
fog had lifted somewhat, but still rendered 
objects indistinct unless they were close at hand. 
I imitated Legrand in all his movements; first 
the quiet, cautious approach, gradually bending, 
until finally we were crawling on our stomachs 
through the grass and mud. We were already 
quite near the brant and I was becoming appre¬ 
hensive lest we should delay too long. A large 
flock of teal unexpectedly attracted my attention 
on the left side and I motioned to Legrand. He 
shook his head, but I signified that 1 was satis¬ 
fied to try my luck with them. Legrand dis 
approved but yielded to my suggestion, except 
that he drew a bead on the brant. The report 
of four barrels seemed almost muffled in the 
uproar caused by great flocks of birds rising in 
every direction, churning the air with their 
wings and filling space with a discordant con¬ 
glomeration of sounds from every species of 
web-footed fowl on the prairie. When the gray 
mist had swallowed the black mass, a pleasant 
sight welcomed our eyes. The ground was plen¬ 
tifully covered with limp forms, a handsome 
tribute to the prowess of our guns. The beam 
of joy on Legrand's weatherbeaten face satisfied 
me that so far we had not been unduly wasteful 
of ammunition. Fearing lest there might be 
some lingering doubt in his mind on the subject, 
I sought to console him with the reflection that 
I still had four hundred and ninety-six shells 
left. 
No time was lost in collecting the game. I 
stuffed the. big pockets of my hunting coat with 
teal and brant. Legrand fastened them to the 
fringes of his jacket until he was almost covered 
with the dark bodies of brant and the beautifully 
colored teal. I warned Legrand to kill every 
bird he gathered, but he was careless in carry¬ 
ing out my suggestion. On the way back to the 
lodge I heard behind me a flutter of wings and 
several quacks and caught a glimpse of a duck 
disappearing in the fog. Legrand was standing 
in a state of stupefaction, staring in the direc¬ 
tion the duck had flown. I could not help laugh¬ 
ing. Needless to say he made sure of the rest. 
Surfeited with abundance of game, the pastime 
soon palled on me. After several days’ sport 
I was read}' to return to more comfortable 
quarters where the shooting was productive of 
smaller results, but more to my taste. Jack- 
snipe, which were quite plentiful, furnished an 
opportunity for skillful marksmanship, but the 
high standard of economy in using ammunition 
established for me by Legrand was shamefully 
lowered. Jacksnipe did not swarm before the 
muzzle of my gun, nor was one bagged in every 
shot. This kind of shooting is excellent for 
training the eye. and no sportsman need be 
chagrined at an occasional miss. 
F.. F. Randolph. 
All the game laws of the United States and 
Canada, revised to date and now in force, are 
given in the Game Laws in Brief. See adv. 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
Some Wild Turkey Reminiscences. 
Philadelphia, Pa., April 25. — Editor Forest 
and Stream: I was back home on a visit and 
thought I would call on "Old George.'' Some 
years had elapsed since I had seen him, during 
which time he had lost his sight, and he seemed 
more than pleased to grasp my hand aga n. 
George was a veteran of the Civil War and had 
been a hunter from childhood, his specialty be¬ 
ing wild turkeys. No one in the neighborhood 
knew more about the habits of wild turkeys than 
he, nor did any one kill more, although -he only 
hunted them when he did not have work, and 
entirely for the sport of it. It was he who gave 
me my first lessons in that art which proved so 
interesting and healthful, and to him I owe 
much of what I have learned about this noble 
game bird. 
"Well, Charlie, I am certainly glad you came; 
sorry I cannot see you, but your voice sounds 
the same, and I am glad to know that you are 
well and prospering. I feel as good as I ever 
did, and if it were not for my eyes I would be 
all right.” 
"George,” said I, “they tell me there are no wild 
turkeys around here any more. How about it?” 
George reflected a minute or so and said, 
“Well, they do say so, but I can hardly believe 
it. If I could see, I think I could find them. 
I would like to take a trip out on Pine Hill. 
Do you remember where you and I ate our 
lunch the days we were out that way? About 
a mile further'than that the hill forms a kind of 
horseshoe, which is called the Black Swamp, 
and in there I could always find turkeys. No, I 
don’t believe you were ever there; you were too 
young to go that far alone, and the day I was 
out on Pine Hill with you I was afraid to go 
any further for fear you* would get too tired. 
Then there is another place—out where you 
killed the big gobbler when there was snow on 
the ground—just above the old coal hearth. 
Do you remember that?” 
Of course I remembered—why shouldn’t I? 
It was one of the most happy days of all my 
hunting experience. Gipsy, my English setter, 
and I had taken a long trip and were on our 
way home late in the afternoon without getting 
a shot, when from the mountainside some two 
hundred yards away up jumped a turkey. It did 
not look very large to me. as it flew down the 
hill past me, probably sixty yards, and it was a 
long shot, but I tried it. Down it came, but no 
sooner did it strike the ground than it started 
to run. Just here, however, is where Gipsy got 
in her work, and it was but a moment until she 
was on top of the turkey and I was there to 
stop the struggle. It weighed twenty-one pounds 
and was a beauty. More than that, it came just 
at a time when I had given up getting anything 
that day. 
“Then I would like to go down to the Co -e 
Mountain.” continued George. “Yes. I know, 
you never liked to hunt there, but all the same 
it was a great place for turkeys and there must 
be some there now. I wish there was a good 
snow and you could go out and look around. 
I feel sure- you would see tracks. Of course you 
should wait until the snow had been down about 
two days, because turkeys some times do not 
travel much the first day a snow is down, es¬ 
pecially early in the winter and if it is the first 
snow.” 
Again George grew reminiscent. “Charlie,” 
said he, “do you remember the day we were 
over the river and your gun would not go off?” 
Yes, I remembered that also. It was an old 
army musket—quite a load for one of my age 
and size, and its only fault was that it did not 
always break the percussion cap. On this oc¬ 
casion 1 had with great labor succeeded in get¬ 
ting ahead of a flock of turkeys, and secreting 
myself behind a log, waited patiently for them 
to come up. They came just as I had antici¬ 
pated they would, and when I had three in line, 
I pulled the trigger, but the cap failed to ex¬ 
plode and away they went. Sometimes one 
can describe his feelings in words, but I will 
not make an attempt, as I know it would be a 
failure. Any of you who have "been there” will 
understand. 
“And, Charlie, you asked me to try the gun 
to see if it would go off for me, and I asked 
you why you did not try it yourself. Do you 
remember what you said then?” 
“No, George,” said I, “I must confess I do 
not; what was it?” 
“Well,” said he, “you told me you were afraid 
to, and I asked you what you would do if you 
saw a turkey, to which you replied, ‘Oh, well, 
I am not afraid to shoot it at a turkey!’ ” 
Then I remembered very well, for I used to 
load that old musket so that the ramrod 
registered “nine fingers.” It invariably flew 
out of my hands when it went off. the steel 
bands would jar loose and the ramrod would 
bounce eight inches out of its place, but when 
the cloud of smoke cleared away following a re¬ 
port like a clap of thunder, I usually found that 
some damage had been done in front of the gun 
as well as behind it. It answered my purpose 
very well in those days, when any kind of a gun 
was a prize to a boy, and with the exception of 
the weak spring I had no complaints to make. 
One thing I had not forgotten, which was that 
that very same day turned out to be the most 
successful of my turkey hunting experience. 
Toward evening George told me he was going 
in a certain direction to call and I could either 
stay where I was and wait for him or go further 
out on the mountain side and call also, for he 
had taught me how to do it, and I never knew 
any one who could imitate their calls better 
than he. 
I concluded to go on a little calling expedi¬ 
tion of my own. and had not gone far until I 
met two city sportsmen who had some little 
fun at my expense on account of my youthful" 
appearance and big gun. They had seen no 
game but said they had heard some one whist¬ 
ling below them about a quarter of a mile 
further out. I at once surmised that it was the 
turkeys calling together, and was right, for 
shortly after that I got an answer to one of my 
calls, and secreting myself behind a clump of 
chestnut sprouts, succeeded in enticing three 
young turkeys within thirty yards of me. This 
time the old musket did not fail me, and after 
the smoke had cleared away I picked up two 
nice fat turkeys. And that was not all, for 
within a half hour I' had again called the third 
one up and killed it also. 
These three turkeys, with the old musket, 
made quite a load for me, but I tied their legs 
together and threw them over my back, wend¬ 
ing my way slowly back over the old wood road 
to where I was to meet George. He was wait- 
