MR. AUDUBON, the distinguished ornithologist, has permitted us to take a cast from one of his beautiful pictures, and we have chosen that of the wild turkey as showing the best specimen of cuts for letter-press ever executed. The plate is from Paris, and cost 60 guineas. It cannot be expected, in our work, where the execution is not deliberately done on fine paper, to exhibit the engraving in its greatest beauty, but still a strong idea of the bird will remain. We shall copy a part of the naturalist's own relation concerning its habits and peculiarities.

The great size and beauty of the wild turkey, its value as a delicate and highlyprized article of food, and the circumstance of its being the origin of the domestic race now dispersed over the country, render it one of the most interesting of the native birds of the United States.

The unsettled parts of the States of Ohio, Kentucky, Illinois, and Indiana, an immense extent of country to the northwest of these districts, and the wooded parts of Arkansas, Tennessee and Alabama, are the most abundantly supplied with this magnificent bird.

The Turkey migrates from place to place, but very irregularly, and according as their food is plenty or scarce. Flock

follows after flock to those districts where the mast (i. e. all kinds of forest fruits) is most plentiful; so that while one district is overflowed, another is entirely deserted by them.

About the beginning of October, when scarcely any seeds and fruits have yet fallen from the trees, these birds assemble in flocks, and move toward the rich bottom lands of the Ohio and Mississippi. The males, or, as they are more commonly called, the gobblers, associate in parties of from ten to a hundred, and search for food apart from the females; while the latter are seen either advancing singly, each with its brood of young, then about two-thirds grown, or in connection with other families, forming parties often amounting to seventy or eighty, all intent on shunning the old cocks, which, even when the young birds have attained this size, will fight with and often destroy them by repeated blows on the head.Old and young however all move in the same course, and on foot, unless their progress be interrupted by a river, or the hunter's dog force them to take wing.

When they come upon a river, they betake themselves to the highest eminen ces, and there often remain a whole day, and sometimes two, as if for the purpose

of consultation. During this time the males are heard gobbling, calling, and making much ado, and are seen strutting about, as if to raise their courage to a pitch befitting the emergency. Even the females and young assume something of the same pompous demeanor, spread out their tails, and run round each other, purring loudly, and performing extravagant leaps. At length, when the weather appears settled, and all around is quiet, the whole party mounts to the tops of the highest trees, whence, at a signal, consisting of a single cluck, given by a leader, the flock takes flight for the opposite shore. The old and fat birds easily get over, should the river be a mile in breadth, but the younger and less robust frequentiy fall into the water-not to be drowned however, as might be imagined. They bring their wings close to their body, spread out their tail as a support, stretch forward their neck, and, striking out their legs with great vigor, proceed rapidly toward the shore; on approaching which, should they find it too steep for landing, they cease their exertions for a few moments, float down the stream until they come to an accessible part, and by a violent effort generally clear themselves from the water.

When turkeys alight on a tree, it is sometimes very difficult to see them, owing to their standing perfectly motionless. Should you discover one, when it is down on its legs upon the branch, you may approach it with less care. But if it is standing erect the greatest precau

tion is necessary, for should it discover you, it instantly flies off, and it would be vain to follow it.

While I was one afternoon in search of game, late in the autumn when the males go together, and the females are by themselves also, I heard the clucking of one of the latter, and finding her on a fence, made toward her. Advancing cautiously, I heard the yelping notes of some gobblers, when I stopped and listened in order to ascertain the direction in which they came. I then ran to meet the birds, hid myself by the side of a large fallen tree, cocked my gun, and waited for a good opportunity. The gobblers continued yelping in answer to the female, which all this while remained on the fence. I looked over the log and saw about thirty fine cocks advancing rather cautiously toward the very spot where I lay concealed. They came so near that the light of their eyes could easily be perceived, when I fired one barrel and killed three. The rest, instead of flying off, fell a strutting around their dead companions, and had I not looked on shooting again as murder without necessity, I might have secured at least another. So I showed myself, and marching to the place where the dead birds were, drove away the survivors.

The following incident I shall relate as I had it from the mouth of a farmer. Turkeys were abundant in his neighborhood, and resorting to his cornfields, at the period when the maize had just shot up from the ground, destroyed great

quantities of it. This induced him to decree vengeance against the species. He cut a long trench in a favorable situation, put a great quantity of corn in it, and having heavily loaded a famous duck gun, placed it so as that he could pull the trigger by means of a string, when quite concealed from the birds. The turkeys soon discovered the corn in the trench, and quickly disposed of it, at the same time continuing their ravages in the fields. He filled the trench again, and one day seeing it quite black with the turkeys, whistled loudly, on which all the birds raised their heads, when he pulled the trigger by the long string fastened to it. The explosion followed of course, and the turkeys were seen scampering off in all directions, in utter discomfiture and dismay. On running to the trench he found nine of them extended in it. The rest did not consider it expedient to visit his corn again for that season.

During spring turkeys are called, as it is termed, by drawing the air in a particular way through one of the second joint bones of a wing of that bird, which produces a sound resembling the voice of the female, on hearing which the male comes up, and is shot. But the most common method of procuring wild turkeys is by means of pens. These are placed in parts of the woods where turkeys have been frequently observed to roost, and are constructed in the following manner. Young trees of four or five inches diameter are cut down and divided into pieces twelve or fourteen feet long.

205

Two of these are laid on the ground parallel to each other, at a distance of ten or twelve feet. Two other pieces are laid across the ends of these, at right angles, and in this manner successive layers are added until the fabric is raised to about four feet high. It is then covered with similar pieces of wood, placed three or four inches apart, and loaded with one or two heavy logs to render the whole firm. This done, a trench about 18 inches in depth and width is cut under one side of the cage, into which it opens slantingly and rather abruptly. It is continued on its outside to some distance, so as gradually to attain the level of the surrounding ground. Over the part of this trench within the pen, and close to the wall, some sticks are placed so as to form a kind of bridge about a foot in breadth. The trap being now finished, the owner places a quantity of indian corn in its centre, as well as in the trench, and as he walks off drops here and there a few grains in the woods, sometimes to the distance of a mile. This is repeated at every visit to the trap, after the turkeys have found it. Sometimes two trenches are cut, in which case the trenches enter on opposite sides of the trap, and are both strown with corn.

No sooner has a turkey discovered the train of corn, than it communicates the circumstance to the flock by a cluck, when all of them come up, and searching for the grains scattered about, at length come upon the trench, which they follow, one after another squeezing themselves thro'