The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1881-01-27
Among the Wild Turkeys.


southern border of the anthracite coal
regions of Schuylkill county, Pa. The
country is wild and desolate. To the
northward Is the land of black diamonds.
The fertile valleys of Lehigh, Scuylkill
and Lebanon lie to the south. The
snow covered hill-sides of the mountains
are now ringing, with the crack of rifles
and shot guns. In thicket, glen and
gulch the traps of the backwoodsmen
are set. Wild turkeys are being shot i'll
great numbers, ard minks, foxes. racoons
and other animals are caught in the
traps.
Experienced woodsmen and expert
shots live in rude cabins along the base
of these mountains. Casper Kiesewetter,
Dave Conrad, Gotlieb Ecker, the
brothers Bill and George Mease, George
Gibson, and jerome Walters are well
known to city sportsmeu. Old Dave
Correll has cabin furnished very
much like the cabin of Robinson Cru
soc. During the recent cold snap two
lawyers and journalist lodged with
Correll at the base of the hills. His
cabin is built of logs and barricaded
from the wintry blasts by cordwood
piled toward its caves. A huge stone
chimney stands at one end. The cabin
contains a single room. Its walls are
smoky and brown. Herbs and imple-
ments partly hide the ceiling The
floor is covered with the skins of ami
mails. A huge black fireplace contained
a back log, red embers, kettle and
chain. Two huge dogs were stretched
on bearskins, enjoying its warmth
They had just come in from long
chase.
"Make yourselves ct home," said the
-whiskered veteran. ~ expected
you. Rather cold. You'll want more
fire afore night"
In five minutes wild turkey was
broiling on the spit. The visitors sat on
low stools covered with skins, and chat
ted with Dave as he prepared supper.
ooh, yes" said he, I'm been here
thirty year or more. Lots O. wild tur-
KEYS this winter. Some bear and deer,
and more foxes and mink than for many
q season."
He was clad in brown corduroy, top
boots, and plush cap. His stores were
in .'the cave" on the outside. A Jug of
cider, a loaf of bread, and some country
pudding were brought in. The wild
turkey was served on tin plates. Each
mans lap was a table. BY the light OF
the fire a savory meal was eaten. The
party were hungry. The old hunter
spun the story of Lis life until o'clock,
when the door was barred, and all hands
were stretched upon the floor with the
dogs. feet toward the fire, to sleep and
rest for the morrow. Soughing pines,
hooting owls, and shrill winds lulled
them to sleep.
A kettle of coffee was brewing on the
fire long before daylight. Bread and
remnants of turkey and pudding were
served for breakfast. The traps, rifles,
and shotguns were put into prime order.
The mercury stood near zero as the old
hunter led the way up the mountain side.
Pointing TO lofty pine Oh the top OF the
mountain, he advised all to separate,
each to hunt for himself, and in two
hours rendezvous beneath the tall pine.
His directions were followed.
stranger, will you just keep back
little while?" said o stalwart hunter half
an hour after we had separated. Gin
that clearing yonder Tn expecting
flock O turkeys shortly. If you'll Just
stop here behind this rock You can fire
when l do, and we'll divide what drops
The old hunter was Casper kiesewet-
ter. He took drop out of his visitors
flask and they waited.
eyes, they'll come in there to feed.
There's corn there, and they know it.
'Sh! Lay low. Hear 'em? How's your
gun-right? Ready-fire Fire again
as they raise!'
Three fine birds dropped out OF the
dock of fifteen. One weighed twelve
Id the other two eleven pounds each.
"These birds are hard to kill unless
they're hit in the right side" said the
hunter.
''Their feathers" he continued, "are
close together and their skin is tough.
Oh, yes, turkeys are very plenty tins
wear. Take one of the birds If you wish.
Come over and see me. The old man
knows where live. Just mention my
name. No more, thank you. Whisky
makes me nervous; can't shoot. I'll wait
here for another shot. They'll be back
soon. No, not cent. We don't do bust
ness that way up here. You're welcome
to both. Good by"
The old hunter remained for another
shot. and we made our way to the rem
devious.
sRegardin' turkey shootin', you got to
be mighty quick" said our hunter host,
under the big tree. They're about as
hard to get as any game know on these
mountains. Their hearin' is very sharp,
they've got a quick eye, and they run
very fast. They're not smart bird.
You see many old hunters hereabouts
have their clearings where they gun:
We don't take particular pains to crowd