The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1896-12-24

then away he sails with the velocity that
belongs to 20-poupd fearhered cannon
| ball.
Take a dog along, If you will, and
when the gang is busy feeding your cur
may surprise them SO quickly as to mako
flush Of they will fly, scattering in
every direction, no two birds together.
If it is afternoon they will want to get
together for the night, and in O few
hours you hear far off plaintiye
qu-urck, qu-urck, qu-urck, qu-urck-
seven notes, the last three coming shorter
and sharper. Now, if you are ono of the
rare individuals who can mako and
manipulate turkey call, take from your
pocket the well-worn hollow bones of a
wild gotbler IS wings, tie still as death,
and initiate that queer invitation. You
will probably be conscious that 1t Is
answered, ard have some delicious sem
Stations; nay, it may ieven come nearer
and lead you to nadly strain your eye
nerves trying to $50 through entirely
| Opaque underbrush. But unless these
turkeys are very young and foolish, Or
ara hens, this will be ali. An old COB
bier will have thought it out long before
he steps within range, and silently fly
away, leaving You to wonder why the
answer doesn It keep on coming.
Tho thoroughbred and glorious way to
kill a:turkey is to go out alone in the
mountains with repeating rifle and half
dozen cartridges. and just look for the
noble old fellow. Not that just looking
will do. TO make much OF II SUCCESS
yon must listen for him. feel for him,
taste for him and smell for him, too, and
above everything else, whit for him. Get
into just the widest and most secluded
glade you can climb to, where tne only
| harvestecs of the chestnuts ana hickory
nuts are the squirrels, where the teaber-
.ies, huckleberrie5 and wild grapes grow
only for the pheasants and turkey where
the wildcat screams at night, the fox
pounces on the rabbit. the black bear
hunts for bee trees and the big horned
owl is villain in many nocturnal TRACE
dies. Keep in the underbrush, but look
out into every open glade. Take note
Of what there ia for a turkey to eat, and
see If the dry leaves have besn scratched
up.
Walk about mile an hour, and don't
put your foot down unless you know
what kind of noise it is going to make.
Don't be sure it Is a squirrel you hear
soampering over the leaves until you see
him or hear his chatter. See everything
that your eyes can take in, and keep
snem looking steadily OH points lin dis
tant, leaf-ccvsred slopes until they see
many things that did not appear at fret
Stop sometimes and don't move any
| thing but your eye-balls for five full,
silent minutes; never make any sudden
move; consider whether the last night q
frost has fallen on this area of ruffied
and torn-up leaves whore plainly strong
toes have been laying bare the rich,
dark earth or the sweet sremains of 1.-The
| chestnut crop.
When you decide that the scratching
has been done that very morning, see
where 1t began, and remember what
ground lies in the direction to which 1T
tends. Then follow, moving more slowly
and carefully. Coma to steep noun
tain side steering to the sycamore
friuged river; do not dare to go directly
down. Slide quickly off on better
grade, and then, having ciroled over q
swift, breathless half-mile, work back
to where tne trail should meet the river
meadow. Take care. Drop at full
length, little cautious because of the
haste. There they are strutting forth
from the underground by the stream af-
ter washing down the chestnut breakfast
with cold, clear mountain water. They
come up ths hill toward you, and you lie
like a stricken man with your rifle fol-
lowing every movement of aggreat black
gobbler, fathe- of the flock, though he is
still 800 yards away. Motherly, mild
mannerSd hens and young gobblsrs are
ia his train, slipping dew drops from the
grass, chasing grnsshopper with half
open wings, or ruffling in maks-belieye
at combs. But never for moment are
all off their guard. On, two, OF three Of
their tall necks are always stretched
aloft, full of eyes and ears. in statuesque
suspicion. Now the old gobbler
straightens up his head, poised four feet
from the. ground. trim. graceful, power
full, the sun glintinR on the dark, rides
cent feathers of his back and lower neck.
Now you decide he is in range. Your
3S-caliber bullet strikes his noble breast
with muffled thump, and the giant
wings beat down the dry ragweed while
your magazine is emptied vainly at the
dark forms shooting off toward the
wooded mountain side.
He is a royal creature. this wild tur-
key, and you may hope to see an old COB
bier tip tho scales at 20 or 25 pounds.
Slung over your shoulder by the foot, his
head bangles against your heels. He is
q wild monarch, eloquent of the woods
and mountains and their innermost Sc
crets, fed only by the most delicate wild
fruits and crystal spring water, formed
for the highest beauty and strength
known to American bird kind, with a
flesh more delicate than his Stalled
,o,siD 1,aoopca of tha pamv favor i'm