I have practised this sport upon the beautiful prairies of Texas; and as
my first turkey hunt after this fashion led me into a little adventure,
which came very near having a serious termination, an account both of
this peculiar mode of hunting--as well as the occurrence in my memory
connected with it--may be given at the same time.
On a journey which I was making from Natchitoches, on the Red River of
Louisiana, along the line of military posts (forts) established in
Western Texas, I had occasion to stop for some days at the house of a
cotton planter--living along the route.
My halt was one of necessity--to recruit my tired escort, as well as a
fine horse I was riding, which, upon a journey that had extended several
hundred miles through the wilderness, I had used somewhat badly. To
make up for having abused him, I resolved upon giving him a few days'
rest upon the plantation. I had letters of introduction to its owner;
though these were by no means requisite to secure me a hospitable
reception in the house of a Texan planter--especially with the official
stamp afforded by the cut and colour of my coat.
As the planter was a man both of intelligence and circumstance--with
three or four fine sons and as many grown-up girls--my halt at his house
was far from being irksome; and perhaps I remained a day or two longer
than exactly "squared" with my duty.
Be that as it may, I remember that I ate my Christmas dinner with them;
and it was while procuring the _piece de resistance_ of that
dinner--_the wild turkey_--that I became initiated into the peculiar
mode of capturing these birds by "running them down."
The custom of having turkey for the Christmas dinner has been
transported by the colonists into the wilds of Texas; where it is as
rigorously observed as in the "mother country"--the United States.
On the day preceding this Christmas holiday, a turkey hunt was got up--
in order that a bird or two might be obtained for the table.
At an early hour we set forth--a party on horseback, consisting of the
planter himself, his sons, and one or two friends on a Christmas visit
to the plantation.
Each of the party shouldering his fowling-piece or rifle--though, as I
was informed, not with any design to use these weapons against the
"gobblers," but, only as a providence in case of meeting with other and
larger game.
Moreover, a Texan frontiersman without a gun over his shoulder--or
carried across the pommel of his saddle--is a creature rarely to be
encountered upon the prairies.
On that day the weapons, intended to be used against the turkeys, were
horses and hounds; and as we rode forth out of the enclosure of the
planter's dwelling, I noticed some half score of the latter--an appanage
of every Texan plantation--trotting along at the heels of our
_cavayard_.
I was myself no little surprised, on being informed that this was the
object for which the hounds were going out with us; and I did not quite
comprehend how the quadrupeds were to bring a bird _to bay_.
I could form some conjecture, however--founded on a past experience in
the art of venerie. I remembered, while deer-hunting in the forests of
the Mississippi bottom, that the hounds, especially when ill-trained
ones, were often led away from the trail of the stag by that of wild
turkeys; and that the birds, although not seen among the underwood,
frequently conducted the chase, for a mile or so, across the hills.
The turkeys would, at length, come to a stand, by taking refuge on the
trees--thus leaving the hounds in a quandary, and the hunters in
something approaching to a passion.
I knew, moreover, that the wild turkey rarely takes to wing--and then
only when compelled by the necessity of crossing a river, or escaping
from some dangerous pursuer, that has got too close to the tip of its
tail.
Guided by these lights, I was not without some glimmer of a guess as to
the nature of the sport upon which we were setting forth.
My considerate friends, not wishing that I should be taken by surprise--
and in order that I should have fair play in procuring my share of the
spoils--gave me a full account of the _modus venandi_, as we rode on
towards the ground.
The prairie towards which we were proceeding--a noted haunt of the
turkeys--was of that kind known in Texas, as a "timber" prairie; that
is, a plain, interspersed with groves of great trees--at a greater or
less distance apart from each other--with here and there small copses--
in Texan parlance, "islands,"--intervening.
Sometimes the larger clumps of timber are so far apart as to be nearly
out of sight of each other; while the verdant surface between exhibits a
mottled aspect of darker tints, caused by the "islands," with here and
there some solitary tree--a giant evergreen oak--standing apart, as if
disdaining to associate with the humbler growth constituting the copses.
On the prairie towards which we were proceeding, the timber growth was
principally trees of the genus _juglans_ and _carya_--among which the
_pecan_ was conspicuous--sometimes forming islands of itself. Of the
delicious nuts of this last-mentioned tree, the wild turkey is what the
French term _friand_--preferring them to all other food.
In the winter these nuts, having dropped ungarnered from the branches,
lie neglected upon the ground--that is, by human beings, although not by
the wild denizen of the prairies.
At such time the turkeys go in search of them--making long journeys
beyond the more secure fastnesses of the great forest; and while
straying among the _pecan_ copses, and far out upon the open prairie,
they become fair game for hounds and horses, and can be _run down_ by
either.
The mode of proceeding is to "approach" ah near as possible without
giving the birds the alarm; and then, calling out the "view halloo" to
the dogs, and spurring the horses to their highest speed, the chase
sweeps onward.
The turkeys, at the first start, whirr up into the air with a thundering
noise; and usually fly to the distance of half a mile--when they drop
down to the earth. On touching _terra firma_, however, they do not
suspend their flight; for it is continued along the ground: almost as
rapidly as in the air--both legs and wings being brought into play.
The chase for a time now very much resembles that of the ostrich;
between which bird and the wild turkey there are many points of
resemblance. The race is usually in a direct line, and towards some
heavy timber, which may be seen in the distance.
Should the latter chance to be near, and up-hill from the point of
starting, the turkey will distance both dogs and hunters, and escape to
the trees. On the other hand, if a sufficient space of open prairie
intervene, either level or down hill, the quadrupeds will eventually
close upon the birds, when the latter will once more take to wing.
This second appeal to his pinions is not so prolonged as the first; and
after flying a few hundred yards, the gobbler will once more "come to
grass," and go legging it, with outstretched neck and flopping wings as
before--as before to be overhauled by hounds and horsemen.
Perhaps he may attempt a third and still shorter flight; but if a grove
be near, or a single tree, or even a tuft of bushes, he will take to one
or the other--in the hope of hiding himself from his relentless
pursuers.
He will either fly up into the tree, or bury his body among the hushes.
If it be a tall tree, he will not succeed in getting a safe roost: for
he is already too fatigued, and, being a _pecan-fed_ gobbler, too fat
for this last exertion. In all likelihood he will stick his head into a
thick bush or tussock of long grass--where the dogs will soon "cook his
goose" for him, although he be a turkey-gobbler.
As, during our journey towards the _pecan prairie_, I had been
theoretically initiated into the mysteries of this peculiar chase, I
determined, after arriving on the ground, to play my part without
reference to any guidance from my companions: for it frequently happens
that a flock of turkeys after being once "scared up," fly in different
directions, leaving each hunter a choice as to the bird or birds he may
follow--the dogs being necessarily permitted to make a similar
selection.
As it chanced on that particular occasion, our turkey hunt turned out an
affair of the scattering kind--at least, mine did--carrying me so far
away from my companions, that I not only lost sight of them, but my way
as well; and came precious near sustaining the loss of something more
important than either--_my scalp_!
Almost the instant after entering among the islands of timber, we
discovered a gang of gobblers. They were not all _gobblers_, correctly
speaking: for the flock was a promiscuous one--comprising old and young
birds, as well as male and female. They were in the very situation
desired by the hunters: that is far out upon the open prairie, where
they could not easily retreat to the heavy timber, without giving us a
long chase, plenty of sport, and probably one or two captures. They
were "grazing" along the edge of a little grove or coppice--which my
companions could easily identify as composed of _pecan-trees_--the nuts
of which, no doubt, had attracted them to the place.
By good fortune a series of similar "islands," forming a sort of
_archipelago_, extended from the point where we first came in sight of
the turkeys, to that beside which they were picking up the _pecan-nuts_.
By keeping the copses between ourselves and the birds, we succeeded in
stealing up behind that which was nearest them; and then suddenly plying
the spur, and raising the "hue and cry," we broke around the cover, and
went towards them at full gallop, the hounds harking-forward among the
hoofs of our horses.
As to be expected, the birds whirred upward into the air; but not all
together. Neither did they fly in one direction. They had been
somewhat scattered over the _pasture_; and the suddenness of our
onslaught caused a still further separation of their cohorts, which flew
off in bands of two and three together, taking different directions--
some of them, being, perhaps, more scared than the rest, going away
alone.
The hunters, as if taking their cue from this sudden distribution of the
game, became separated in like manner--the hounds also scattering into
couples as the chase proceeded.
For an instant or two I was nonplussed: not knowing which party to
follow; but, seeing what I believed to be the biggest gobbler of the
gang flying over the _pecan_ copse in a backward direction, and
reckoning from his ponderous appearance that his flight would not be a
protracted one, I wheeled my horse, and galloped under and after him.
There were none of the dogs going my way; but I had been told that this
was of no great importance. A good horse will easily _run down_ this
sort of game; and the hounds are only useful when it comes to the
_finale_ of the chase, and the turkey is to be "grupped." Then the
dismounted horseman is in danger of losing his bird, by the latter
taking a foul start, and so escaping him.
Determined, should I succeed in running down my turkey, to take
precautions against this, I lanced my horse's flanks and rode on.
Unfortunately, it was not my own horse's flanks I was lacerating, or the
chase would not have continued so long. To save my precious steed, I
was astride of a horse furnished to me by my host--a stout Mexican
mustang, which, although by no means an indifferent mount, was nothing
to the splendid Arab I had left in contiguity with the maize-trough of
the planter.
I urged the animal forward with all the speed that lay in his lithe
sinewy limbs; and after less than a half-mile made over the verdant turf
of the prairie, I had the satisfaction to see the gobbler drop suddenly
down upon the grass, and continue his _flight_ upon his long red legs.
I was scarcely three hundred yards behind him, as he touched the ground.
This the mustang soon reduced to a tenth part of the distance; when the
old cock, perceiving himself in danger of being caught, once more
whirred up towards the sky.
This second "spring" did not exceed a couple of hundred paces; and his
coming down so soon convinced me, that the "balance" of the pursuit
would be a trial between the legs of the turkey and the limbs of the
mustang.
This conviction turned out to be well founded; and on we went over the
prairie, with all the speed that bird and beast were capable of
commanding.
For the first half-mile or so I saw that I was gaining upon the
gobbler--not rapidly; for the mustang, though tough, was far from being
a fast one. He promised bottom, however; and I was indulging in high
hopes that in time I should overtake the turkey, and carry him back a
prize, a triumph in the eyes of my hunting companions.
All at once this agreeable prospect began to appear doubtful. Although
I continued to press the mustang, both with spurs and voice, I still
perceived that the distance between me and the turkey was gradually
growing greater, instead of less!
Surely the horse had not slackened his speed? I had guarded against
that. The gobbler, then, must have quickened his.
What was the explanation?