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Updated: August 21, 2024
Not to alarm the game, Jed Sanborn told them to walk with care, and led the way in a semicircle through the timber. Then he told the boys to spread out around the tree. "Fire as soon as ye get a good chance, but not afore," said he. As they crawled closer they saw the wild turkeys quite plainly. There was a gobbler and six or seven hens, and they were roosting on several limbs close to the ground.
"I don't see why she wanted to bring her chicks out here where Turkey Proudfoot would see them. She's landed me in a scrape. There won't be much left of me when that old gobbler gets through with me." Nevertheless the rooster put on a bold front. Drawing himself up to look his tallest, he glared at Turkey Proudfoot and said shrilly, "What do you mean by annoying this lady?"
"We must get out of the way." "The cat has a fit!" cried Tom Mason. "Oh, poor Snoop!" wailed Flossie. "Grab him, somebody!" shouted Harry. "No, let Snoop alone!" advised Bert. "He might bite, if you touched him now, though he wouldn't mean to." "But what is it? What gave him the fit?" asked Mabel Herold. "Our old turkey gobbler," answered Harry. "The gobbler has caught Snoop by the tail.
A perfectly strange blindfolded girl ... with her dark hair forty years this side of white begging him to hurry!... A Black Velvet Bag surmounted by a Tiger's head stirring strangely in a chair piled high with books!... Seated next to the Black Velvet Bag a Canary as big as a Turkey Gobbler!... A Giraffe stepping suddenly forward with with dog-paws thrust into his soup plate!... A White Rabbit heavily wreathed in holly rousing cautiously from his cushions!... A Parrot with a twitching black and white short-haired tail!... An empty chair facing the Girl!
"I suppose thee never changes thy mind." "I'm going to change the subject. Poultry with their feathers on don't interest me very much. The male birds remind me of a detestable class of conceited men, that one must see daily in the city, whose gallantry is all affectation, and who never for a moment lose sight of themselves or their own importance. That strutting gobbler there, Mr.
The Peacock was larger than the Turkey Gobbler, it is true, but as long as he could sit on a fence in the sunshine and have somebody admiring his train, he did not care anything about the Gobbler, and they did not get in each other's way. There were seven Hen Turkeys, timid, sweet-tempered people, who were fond of walking.
They had never been known to answer back when the Gobbler scolded them, although at times he was very unreasonable. This was polite of them, but it made the Gobbler more careless than ever of the way in which he spoke. The Black Spanish Hen said it made her wattles tingle to hear him find fault with them. She wouldn't have stood it no, indeed!
Were you aware, Frank, that it was Tucket, and not a turkey, in the bushes, when you took this man to the woods?" "I rather thought it was Tucket," said Frank, "though the man stuck to it so stoutly that 'twas his gobbler, I didn't know but " "Never mind about that." The captain saw that it was Frank's object to lead the inquiry back to the ludicrous part of the business, and promptly checked him.
Up and up they went, and spreading as they rose, until there was a wonderful great circle of them back of his body and reaching far above his head. The Gobbler's spread tail looked as small beside this as a Dove's egg would beside that of a Goose. "Paon!" said the Peacock. "I am no Turkey Gobbler. I am a Peacock." "Pffff!" said the Gobbler. Then he turned to the Hen Turkeys.
This resemblance is one of the most singular things in natural history. I like to watch the gobbler maneuvering his forces in a grasshopper-field. He throws out his company of two dozen turkeys in a crescent-shaped skirmish-line, the number disposed at equal distances, while he walks majestically in the rear.
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