Read Ned Wilding's Disappearance; or, The Darewell Chums in the City Page 4
CHAPTER IV
THE FIRST TURKEY
"I must say you boys has got grit," remarked Jim, as the wagon lurchedalong, pitching like a ship in a storm because of the rough road.
"Why?" asked Bart.
"Leavin' your comfortable homes an' comin' out to a wilderness inwinter. Land! I'd no more think of doin' it than I would of flyin'."
"Didn't you do such things when you were young?" asked Fenn.
"Never had no time," the expressman said. "When I got a few days off Ihad t' go t' th' woods an' chop cord-wood or tap trees for maple syrup."
They jogged along for another mile or so, the road getting more and morerough as they progressed.
"Don't believe I can take you any farther," said Jim, as he brought hiswagon to a stop before a big bog-hole. For the last mile the road was"corduroy," that is, made by laying small logs across it, closetogether, like the ribs in corduroy cloth; whence its name.
The boys helped the expressman to unload, and, with his aid they soonhad cleared a place among the trees for the tent. It was put up, andthen the camp stuff and provisions were taken inside.
Stumpy quickly had ready a meal, which, if it was not elaborate, wasappetizing, and Jim who was invited to it had to acknowledge that thecoffee was good enough for anyone.
"Now for a turkey hunt!" exclaimed Ned, when Jim had left and his wagonwas out of sight on the wood road. "We've got all the afternoon. Let'sget the guns and start out."
The snow was coming down faster now, and the wind had increased. It wasnot very cold, however, and they were warmly dressed so they did notmind it. They had a compass with them, to avoid getting lost, and,confident they would return laden with turkeys or rabbits, they trampedon through the woods.
"Say, fellows! Here's something!" cried Frank suddenly, pointing to sometracks in the snow. His companions ran to where he stood.
"Turkey tracks!" called Bart. "They're leading off into the woods, too!Come on! We'll get some birds now!"
The new-fallen snow deadened their footsteps or they would havefrightened all the game within a mile, the way they rushed through theforest. They had never hunted wild turkeys, and did not know what shybirds they are.
So it was more by good luck than good management that they suddenly cameupon a small flock, gathered about a big gobbler. The birds were in alittle clearing, standing rather disconsolately about in the snow.
Bart, who was leading, came to an abrupt halt as he saw the flockthrough the bushes. He motioned for the others to remain quiet. Then hecarefully brought his gun to bear on the big gobbler.
"Aren't you going to give us a shot?" asked Ned in a whisper. He and theothers were standing behind Bart, and could not get a fair aim at theturkeys, as the trail was a narrow one and Bart occupied the most of it.
The whisper, as it was, gave the alarm to the easily frightened birds.The gobbler raised its head and sounded one note of warning. But Bartshot at the instant. The flock scattered in all directions and the otherboys fired wildly in the hope of getting a bird.
When the smoke had blown away the chums peered eagerly forward,expecting to see at least four turkeys lying on the snow-covered ground.Bart ran up, hoping the big gobbler had fallen to him.
"Didn't we kill any?" asked Frank, as they saw nothing but turkeytracks.
"Looks as if we all missed," remarked Fenn.
"No, here's one, and it's a fine one too!" exclaimed Frank, as he ran toone side and picked up a plump hen from under a bush.
"Who aimed at that one?" asked Bart, much disappointed at missing hisgobbler.
"Hard to say," said Ned. "I guess we can all claim a share in it. Weeach shot one-fourth of a turkey. Not so bad for a starter."
"I'm out of it," Bart rejoined. "I aimed straight at the gobbler, and hegot away. It's a third of a bird apiece for you fellows."
"Anyhow it is the first turkey of the hunt," observed Ned.