The PUTER, or WILD TURKEY (_Meleagris gallopavo_), is of a brownish yellow
on the upper parts of the body, which gleam with a beautiful metallic
lustre, each feather having a broad resplendent black edge. The hinder
portions of the back-feathers and tail-covers are dark reddish brown,
striped green and black; the yellowish brown breast is darkest at its
sides; the belly and legs are brownish grey, and the feathers on the rump
pale black, faintly edged with a darker shade. The quills are blackish
brown, the primaries greyish white, and the secondaries brownish, striped
with white; the tail-feathers are brown, dotted and marked with black. The
bare parts of the head and throat are pale sky-blue, the warts that cover
the face bright red, and the lower region of the eye ultramarine-blue. The
eye is yellowish blue, the beak whitish grey, and the foot pale violet
or bright red. This species is from forty to forty-four inches long, and
from fifty-three to sixty broad; the wing measures eighteen and the tail
fifteen inches. The plumage of the hen, though somewhat resembling that of
the male, is much less beautifully coloured; her length does not exceed
thirty-five inches, and her breadth forty-eight inches and a half; the
wing measures fifteen and the tail eleven inches.
[Illustration: THE OCELLATED TURKEY (_Meleagris ocellata_), ONE-FIFTH
NATURAL SIZE.]
Of the many accounts respecting the life of the Wild Turkey of North
America, none is more excellent than the following from the pen of
Audubon:--"The unsettled parts of the States of Kentucky, Ohio, Illinois,
and Indiana, an immense extent of country to the north-west of those
districts upon the Mississippi and Missouri, and the vast regions drained
by these rivers from their confluence to Louisiana, including the wooded
parts of Arkansas, Tennessee, and Alabama, are most abundantly supplied
with this magnificent bird. It is less plentiful in Georgia and the
Carolinas, becomes still scarcer in Virginia and Pennsylvania, and is now
very rarely seen to the east of the last-mentioned States." It is already
extirpated from the thickly-peopled portions of the continent.
"The Turkey," continues Audubon, "is irregularly migratory, as well
as irregularly gregarious. When the supply of food in one portion of
the country happens greatly to exceed that of another, the Turkeys are
insensibly led towards that spot, by gradually meeting in their haunts
with more fruit the nearer they advance towards the place where it is most
plentiful. In this manner flock follows after flock, until one district is
entirely deserted, while another is, as it were, overflowed by them.
"About the beginning of October, when scarcely any of the seeds and
fruits have yet fallen from the trees, these birds assemble in flocks,
and gradually move towards the rich bottom-lands of the Ohio and the
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 advancing
singly, each with its brood of young, then about two-thirds grown, or in
connection with other families, forming parties amounting to seventy or
eighty individuals, 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
to a river they betake themselves to the highest eminences, and there
often remain a whole day, or 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 demeanour, 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 mount 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, even should the
river be a mile in breadth; but the young and less robust frequently 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
vigour, proceed rapidly towards 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 extricate themselves from the water. It
is remarkable that immediately after thus crossing a large stream, they
ramble about for some time as if bewildered; in this state they fall an
easy prey to the hunter.
"When the Turkeys arrive in parts where food is abundant, they separate
into smaller flocks, composed of birds of all ages and both sexes,
promiscuously mingled, and devour all before them. This happens about the
middle of November. So gentle do they sometimes become after these long
journeys, that they have been seen to approach the farmhouses, associate
with the Domestic Fowls, and enter the stables and corn-cribs in quest of
food. In this way, roaming about the forests, and feeding chiefly on mast,
they pass the autumn and part of the winter.
"As early as the middle of February the females separate and fly from the
males, the latter strenuously pursue, and begin to gobble or to utter
their notes of exultation. The sexes roost apart, but at no great distance
from each other. When a female utters a call-note, all the gobblers within
hearing return the sound, rolling note after note with as much rapidity
as if they intended to emit the first and last together, not with spread
tail, as when fluttering round the females on the ground, or practising on
the branches of the trees on which they have roosted for the night, but
much in the manner of the Domestic Turkey, when an unusual or unexpected
noise elicits its singular hubbub. If the call of the female comes from
the ground, all the males immediately fly towards the spot, and the moment
they reach it, whether the hen be in sight or not, spread out and erect
their tail, draw the head back on the shoulders, depress their wings with
a quivering motion, and strut pompously about, emitting at the same time
a succession of puffs from the lungs, and stopping now and then to listen
and look, but whether they spy the female or not they continue to puff and
strut, moving with as much celerity as their ideas of ceremony seem to
admit. While thus occupied the males often encounter each other, in which
case desperate battles take place, ending in bloodshed and often in the
loss of many lives, the weaker falling under the blows inflicted upon the
head by the stronger. The moment a rival is dead the conqueror treads him
under foot, but what is strange, not with hatred, but with all the motions
which he employs in caressing the female.
"About the middle of April, when the season is dry, the hens begin to look
out for a place to deposit their eggs. This place requires to be as much
as possible concealed from the eyes of the Crow, as that bird watches the
Turkey when going to her nest, and, waiting in the neighbourhood until
she has left it, removes and eats the eggs. The nest, which consists of
a few withered leaves, is placed on the ground, in a hollow scooped out
by the side of a log, or in the fallen top of a dry leafy tree, under a
thicket of sumach or briars, or a few feet within the edge of a cornbrake,
but always in a dry place. When laying her eggs the female approaches her
nest very cautiously, scarcely ever following the same track twice, and
when she leaves them covers them so carefully with leaves that it is very
difficult for any person to find the nest, unless the mother has been
suddenly started from it. When on her nest, if she perceives an enemy, she
sits still and crouches low until the intruder has passed by, unless she
is aware that she has been discovered."
"I have frequently," says Audubon, "approached within five or six paces of
a nest, of which I was previously aware, assuming an air of carelessness,
and whistling or talking to myself, the female remaining undisturbed;
whereas if I went cautiously towards it, she would never suffer me to
approach within twenty paces, but would run off, with her tail spread
on one side, to a distance of twenty or thirty yards, when, assuming a
stately gait, she would walk about deliberately, uttering now and then a
cluck."
The mother seldom abandons her nest on account of its having been
disturbed by man, but if robbed by a snake or other wild animal she never
approaches it again. If her brood has been destroyed, she lays a second
set of eggs, but usually rears only one brood in the season. Sometimes
several mothers lay their eggs in the same nest. Audubon once found three
sitting upon forty-two eggs. In such a case one or other of the females
always keeps guard over the nest, to prevent the approach of the weaker
kind of enemies. When nearly hatching, the hen will not leave her eggs
for any consideration, and will rather allow herself to be fenced in than
desert her nest. Audubon tells us he once witnessed the hatching of a
brood of Turkeys.
"I concealed myself," he says, "on the ground, within a very few feet,
and saw the female raise herself half the length of her legs, look
anxiously upon the eggs, cluck with a sound peculiar to the mother on
such occasions, carefully remove each half-empty shell, and with her bill
caress and dry the young birds that already stood tottering and attempting
to make their way from the nest. I saw them all emerge from the shell, and
in a few moments after tumble, roll, and push each other forward, with
astonishing and inscrutable instinct."
Before the old bird leaves the nest she shakes herself violently, preens
her feathers, and assumes quite a different appearance; she raises
herself, stretches out her neck, and glances about and around to detect
any enemy that may be nigh, spreads her wings, and clucking softly,
endeavours to keep her young family together. As the brood are usually
hatched in the afternoon, they often return and spend the first night in
the nest, but afterwards remove to higher undulating ground, the mother
dreading the effects of rain on her young, which seldom survive if
thoroughly wetted at this tender age, when their only covering is a soft,
delicate, hairy down. In about fourteen days the young birds, which till
this time had rested on the ground, are able to fly to some low branch,
and pass the night under the sheltering wings of their mother. A little
later they leave the woods during the day, and search the prairies and
glades for berries of various kinds, and grasshoppers. The young now
rapidly increase in size and strength, and about the month of August are
able to escape the attacks of their four-footed enemies by rising from the
ground to the highest branches of the trees. About this time young and old
assemble together and begin their pilgrimage.
Wild Turkeys will sometimes feed and associate with tame ones, whose
owners are glad to welcome them, the half-breed being much the most hardy,
and easily reared.
"While at Henderson," says Audubon, "I had among other birds a fine male
Turkey, which had been reared from its earliest youth under my care, it
having been caught by me when probably not more than two or three days
old. It became so tame that it would follow any person who called it, and
was the favourite of the little village; yet it would never roost with
the tame Turkeys, but regularly betook itself at night to the roof of the
house, where it remained till dawn. When two years old it began to fly to
the woods, where it remained for a considerable part of the day, returning
to the enclosure as soon as night approached. It continued this practice
until the following spring, when I saw it several times fly from its
roosting-place to the top of a high cotton tree on the Ohio, from which,
after resting a little, it would sail to the opposite shore, the river
being nearly half a mile wide, and return towards night. One morning I saw
it fly off at a very early hour to the woods, in another direction, and
took no particular notice of the circumstance. Several days elapsed, but
the bird did not return. I was going towards some lakes near Green River,
to shoot, when having walked five miles I saw a fine large gobbler cross
the path before me, moving leisurely along. Turkeys being then in prime
condition for the table, I ordered my dog to chase it and put it up. The
animal went off with great rapidity, and as it approached the Turkey, I
saw with much surprise that the latter paid little attention. Juno was on
the point of seizing it, when she suddenly stopped and turned her head
towards me. I hastened to them, but you may easily conceive my surprise
when I saw my own favourite bird, and discovered that it had recognised
the dog and would not fly from it, although the sight of a strange dog
would have caused it to run off at once."
The Wild Turkeys do not restrict themselves to any particular kind of
food, but prefer the winter grape and the pecan-nut, being found in the
greatest numbers where these are plentiful. They eat grass and various
herbs, corn, berries, fruit, insects, tadpoles, and small lizards. When
walking, these birds often open their wings a little, folding them again
over each other, as if their weight were too great, then run a short
distance, spreading their pinions and fanning their sides after the manner
of the Domestic Fowl, then leaping two or three times into the air, and
shaking themselves. While searching for food they keep the head raised,
and are always on the watch, meanwhile scratching with their feet, and
snatching up at once with the beak any prey which they may have found. In
summer they roll themselves in the dust of roads or ploughed fields to
clear themselves from ticks. After snow, when the ground becomes hard,
the Turkeys will remain on their sleeping-places without food for three
or four days, but sometimes venture into farmyards to the stacks of corn
and stables, in search of grain. During falls of melting snow they run to
surprising distances, and with such rapidity that no horse can keep up
with them; late in the spring, however, their strength is not so great,
and a good dog is able to overtake them.
With the exception of man, the most formidable enemies of the Wild Turkey
are the lynx, the Snowy Owl, and the Virginian Owl. The lynx pursues both
old and young, sucks their eggs, and does them great injury. The Owls
attack them when roosting on the branches of trees, hovering around
them with silent wing. "This, however," says Audubon, "is rarely done
without being discovered; a single cluck from one of the party announces
the approach of the murderer. They instantly start upon their legs and
watch the motions of the Owl, which, selecting one as its victim, comes
down upon it like an arrow, and would inevitably secure the prize, did
not the latter at that moment lower its head, stoop, and spread its tail
in an inverted manner over its back, so that the aggressor is met by a
smooth inclined plane, along which it glances without hurting the Turkey;
immediately after which the latter drops to the ground, and thus escapes
merely with the loss of a few feathers."
Turkeys are hunted in all parts of America with ardour, but always in
moderation. They are shot at pairing-time, and also when at roost; but
they are most commonly caught in pens, in a manner thus described by
Audubon:--
"Young trees, of four or five inches in diameter, are cut down and divided
into pieces of the length of twelve or fourteen feet. Two of these are
laid on the ground parallel to each other, at a distance of ten or twelve
feet. Two others are laid across the ends of these at right angles to
them, and in this manner successive layers are added until the fabric is
raised to the height of about four feet. 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
eighteen 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. 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, squeezing themselves one after
another through the passage under the bridge. In this manner the whole
flock sometimes enters, but more commonly six or seven only, as they are
alarmed by the least noise, even the cracking of a tree in frosty weather.
Those within having gorged themselves, raise their heads, and try to force
their way through the top or sides of the pen, passing and repassing on
the bridge, but never for a moment looking down or attempting to escape by
the passage by which they entered. Thus they remain until the owner of the
trap arriving closes the trench and secures his captives. I have heard of
eighteen Turkeys having been caught in this manner at a single visit to
the trap."
When Turkeys are abundant, the owners sometimes neglect to visit their
traps, and the poor prisoners are starved for want of food, for they never
retrace their steps along the trench, as they might readily do, and thus
regain their liberty.
* * * * *
The AUSTRALIAN JUNGLE FOWLS (_Megapodinæ_) form a group of Australian
birds, distinguished from all their feathered brethren by the strange
manner in which their broods are incubated. For this process mounds of
grass and earth are erected by the parents to receive their unusually
large eggs, which are hatched by means of the heat engendered by the
decaying vegetable matter. The young do not quit the shell until they are
fully fledged and capable of supporting themselves. Gould is of opinion
that this singular way of incubating the eggs, and the very small size of
their brain, indicate that the _Megapodinæ_ hold but a low place in the
scale of intelligence. Naturalists are much at variance concerning the
systematic position of these birds, but in our own opinion Reichenbach is
correct in considering them as nearly allied to the _Gallinaceæ_, and we
shall therefore adopt his arrangement.
* * * * *
The TALLEGALLI (_Tallegalli_) are recognisable by their strong curved
beak, short toes, small much-rounded wings, and the bare patches on the
head, neck, and breast. These birds inhabit the dense brushes, scrubby
gullies, and primeval forests of Australia and New Guinea, where they
are met with in small flocks on the ground. In disposition they are very
shy, and when disturbed endeavour to escape by running into the thick
brush or by flying up to the branches of trees, and then ascending to the
top, which they gain by leaping from bough to bough; having attained the
summit they sometimes fly off to a new locality in the underwood. During
the mid-day heat they generally seek shelter under the shady branches of
trees, often uttering a low chuckling noise; they also dust themselves
on the ground, after the manner of other Gallinaceous Birds. Their food
consists of seeds, berries, and insects.
[Illustration: THE BRUSH TURKEY (_Catheturus Lathami_).]
* * * * *
The BRUSH TURKEYS (_Catheturus_) are recognisable by their powerful
frame, moderate-sized neck, large head, short rounded wings, and tail of
medium length, composed of eighteen feathers; their soft woolly down, and
a slight hairy growth on the head and neck. The fore part of the throat
exhibits a long fleshy excrescence. These remarkable birds are natives of
Australia.