Transcriber's Note:
Obvious typographical errors have been repaired.
_Underscores_ surround italicized text.
* * * * *
[Illustration: The grandest bird of the American continent]
THE WILD TURKEY
AND ITS HUNTING
BY
EDWARD A. McILHENNY
[Illustration]
_Illustrated from Photographs_
GARDEN CITY NEW YORK
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
1914
_Copyright, 1912, 1913, 1914, by_
THE OUTDOOR WORLD PUBLISHING COMPANY
_Copyright, 1914, by_
DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY
_All rights reserved, including that of
translation into foreign languages,
including the Scandinavian_
CONTENTS
PAGE
Introduction ix
CHAPTER
I. My Early Training with the Turkeys 3
II. Range, Variation, and Name 12
III. The Turkey Prehistoric 26
IV. The Turkey Historic 39
V. Breast Sponge--Shrewdness 104
VI. Social Relations--Nesting--The
Young Birds 111
VII. Association of Sexes 119
VIII. Its Enemies and Food 134
IX. Habits of Association and Roosting 152
X. Guns I Have Used on Turkeys 163
XI. Learning Turkey Language--Why Does
the Gobbler Gobble 170
XII. On Callers and Calling 181
XIII. Calling Up the Lovelorn Gobbler 198
XIV. The Indifferent Young Gobbler 213
XV. Hunting Turkey with a Dog 218
XVI. The Secret of Cooking the Turkey 233
XVII. Camera Hunting for Turkeys 238
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
The grandest bird of the American continent. _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
Plate I. Figs. 1 to 5. Types: _M. antiqua_; _M. celer._
Marsh 30
Plate II. Figs. 6 to 10. Views of the skulls of
wild turkeys 45
Plate III. Fig. 11. Left lateral view of the skull
of an old male wild turkey 60
Plate IV. Figs. 12 to 16. Views of the cranium
and skull of the turkey 75
Plate V. Figs. 17 to 19. Views of the skull of
wild turkeys, and skeleton of the left foot of a
wild turkey 80
Plate VI. Figs. 20 to 23. Eggs of wild turkey 90
Plate VII. Fig. 24. Nest of a wild turkey _in situ_ 102
Note the full chest of the gobbler on the left.
This is the breast sponge 106
Nest located in thick brush on top of a ridge in
Louisiana 112
Hen, wild turkey, and three young 116
The beginning of the strut 124
The chief of all his enemies is the "genus homo" 142
An ideal turkey country. They will go a long way
to roost in trees growing in water 156
A hermit. It would take an expert turkey hunter
to circumvent this bird 160
Big woods in Louisiana where the old gobblers
roam at will. A delightful place in which to camp 174
Jordan's Turkey Call (cut in text) 183
I soon saw the old gobbler stealing slowly through
the brush 190
"Cluck," "put," "put," there stands a gobbler,
within twenty paces to the left 202
Suddenly there was a "Gil-obble-obble-obble," so
near it made me jump 206
The soft, gentle quaver of the hen has no effect on
the ear of the young gobbler 216
INTRODUCTION
Although many eminent naturalists and observers have written of the
turkey from the date of its introduction to European civilization
to the present time, there has been no very satisfactory history of
the intimate life of this bird, nor has there been a satisfactory
analysis of either the material from which our fossil turkeys are
known, or the many writings concerning the early history of the bird
and its introduction to civilization. I have attempted in this work
to cover the entire history of this very interesting and vanishing
game bird, and believe it will fill a long-felt want of hunters and
naturalists for a more detailed description of its life history.
This work was begun by Chas. L. Jordan and would have been completed
by him, except for his untimely death in 1909.
Mr. Jordan for more than sixty years was a careful observer and
lover of the wild turkey, and for many years the study of this bird
occupied almost his entire time. I feel safe in saying that Mr.
Jordan knew more of the ways of the wild turkey in the wilds than
any man who ever lived. No more convincing example of his patience
and perseverance in his study of the bird can be given than the
accompanying photographs, all of which were taken of the wild birds
in the big outdoors by Mr. Jordan.
At the time of Mr. Jordan's death he was in his sixty-seventh year
and was manager of the Morris game preserve of over 10,000 acres,
near Hammond, La. He had been most successful in attracting to
this preserve a great abundance of game, and was very active in
suppressing poaching and illegal hunting. His activity in this cause
brought about his death, as he was shot in the back by a poacher
during the afternoon of February 24, 1909, for which Allen Lagrue,
his murderer, is now serving a life sentence in the penitentiary.
I had known Mr. Jordan for a number of years before his death and was
much interested in his work with the turkey, as I, for years, had
been carrying on similar studies. After Mr. Jordan's death, through
the kindness of Mr. John K. Renaud, I secured his notes, manuscript,
and photographic plates of the wild turkey, and with these, and my
knowledge of the bird, I have attempted to compile a work I think he
would have approved.
Mr. Jordan from time to time wrote articles on the wild turkey for
sporting magazines, among them _Shooting and Fishing_, and parts of
his articles are brought into the present publication. I have carried
out the story of the wild turkey as if told by Mr. Jordan, as his
full notes on the bird enable me to do this.
I am indebted to Dr. R. W. Shufeldt for his chapter on the fossil
turkey, the introduction of the turkey to civilization, and
photographs accompanying his two chapters, written at my request
especially for this work.
E. A. M.
THE WILD TURKEY AND ITS HUNTING
CHAPTER I
MY EARLY TRAINING WITH THE TURKEYS
My father was a great all-round hunter and pioneer in the state of
Alabama, once the paradise of hunters. He was particularly devoted to
deer hunting and fox hunting, owning many hounds and horses. He knew
the ways and haunts of the forest people and from him my brothers and
I got our early training in woodcraft. I was the youngest of three
sons, all of whom were sportsmen to the manner born. My brothers and
myself were particularly fond of hunting the wild turkey, and were
raised and schooled in intimate association with this noble bird;
the fondness for this sport has remained with me through life. I
therefore may be pardoned when I say that I possess a fair knowledge
of their language, their habits, their likes and dislikes.
In the great woods surrounding our home there were numbers of wild
turkeys, and I can well remember my brother Frank's skill in calling
them. Every spring as the gobbling season approached my brothers and
myself would construct various turkey calls and lose no opportunity
for practising calling the birds. I can recall, too, when but a mere
lad, coming down from my room in the early morning to the open porch,
and finding assembled the family and servants, including the little
darkies and the dogs, all in a state of great excitement. I hastened
to learn the cause of this and was shown with admiration a big
gobbler, and as I looked at the noble bird, with its long beard and
glossy plumage, lying on the porch, I felt it was a beautiful trophy
of the chase.
"Who killed it?" I asked. "Old Massa, he kill 'im," came from the
mouths of half a dozen excited little darkies. A few days later
my brothers brought in other turkeys. This made me long for the
time when I would be old enough to hunt this bird, and these happy
incidents inspired me with ambition to acquire proficiency in turkey
hunting, and to learn every method so that I might excel in that
sport.
As I grew older, but while still a mere lad, I would often steal to
the woods in early morning on my way to school, and, hiding myself
in some thick bush, sitting with my book in my lap and a rude cane
joint or bone of a turkey's wing for a call in my hand, I would watch
for the turkeys. When they appeared I would study every movement of
the birds, note their call, yelp, cluck, or gobble, and I gradually
learned each sound they made had its meaning. I would study closely
the ways of the hens and their conduct toward the young and growing
broods; I would also note their attention to the old or young
gobblers, and the mannerisms of the male birds toward the females.
All this time I would be using my call, attempting to imitate every
note that the turkeys made, and watching the effect. These were my
rudimentary and earliest lessons in turkey lore and lingo, and what I
have often called my schooling with the turkeys.
At this age I had not begun the use of a rifle or shotgun on turkeys,
although I had killed smaller game, such as squirrels, rabbits,
ducks, and quail. I was sixteen years of age when I began to hunt
the wild turkeys. I discovered then that although I was able to do
good calling I had much more to learn to cope successfully with the
wily ways of this bird. It took years of the closest observation
and study to acquire the knowledge which later made me a successful
turkey hunter, and I have gained this knowledge only after tramping
over thousands of miles of wild territory, through swamps and
hummocks, over hills and rugged mountain sides, through deep gulches,
quagmires, and cane brakes, and spending many hours in fallen
treetops, behind logs or other natural cover, not to be observed, but
to observe, by day and by night, in rain, wind, and storm. I have
hunted the wild turkeys on the great prairies and thickets of Texas,
along the open river bottoms of the Brazos, Colorado, Trinity, San
Jacinto, Bernardo, as well as the rivers, creeks, hills, and valleys
of Alabama, Florida, Mississippi, and Louisiana. With all modesty, I
believe I have killed as many old gobblers with patriarchal beards
as any man in the world. I do not wish to say this boastfully, but
present it as illustrative of the experience I have had with these
birds, and particularly with old gobblers, for I have always found a
special delight in outwitting the wary old birds.
I doubt not many veteran turkey hunters have in mind some old gobbler
who seemed invincible; some bird that had puzzled them for three or
four years without their learning the tricks of the cunning fellow.
Perhaps in these pages there may be found some information which will
enable even the old hunter to better circumvent the bird. I am aware
that there are times when the keenest sportsmen will be outwitted,
often when success seems assured.
How well I know this. Many times I have called turkeys to within a
few feet of me; so near that I have heard their "put-put." And they
would walk away without my getting a shot. Often does this occur
to the best turkey hunter, on account of the game approaching from
the rear, or other unexpected point, and suddenly without warning
fly or run away. No one can avoid this, but the sportsman who
understands turkeys can exercise care and judgment and kill his bird,
where others unacquainted with the bird fail. I believe I can take
any man or boy who possesses a good eye and fair sense, and in one
season make a good turkey hunter of him. I know of many nefarious
tricks by which turkeys could be easily secured, but I shall not
tell of any method of hunting and capturing turkeys but those I
consider sportsmanlike. Although an ardent turkey hunter, I have too
much respect for this glorious bird to see it killed in any but an
honorable way. The turkey's fate is hard enough as it is. The work
of destruction goes on from year to year, and the birds are being
greatly reduced in numbers in many localities. The extinction of
them in some states has already been accomplished, and in others it
is only a matter of time; but there are many localities in the South
and West, especially in the Gulf-bordering states, where they are
still plentiful, and with any sort of protection will remain so. Some
of these localities are so situated that they will for generations
remain primeval forests, giving ample shelter and food to the turkey.
A novice might think it an easy matter to find turkeys after seeing
their tracks along the banks of streams or roads, or in the open
field, where they lingered the day before. But these birds are not
likely to be in the same place the following day; they will probably
be some miles away on a leafy ridge, scratching up the dry leaves and
mould in quest of insects and acorns, or in some cornfield gleaning
the scattered grain; or perhaps they might be lingering on the banks
of some small stream in a dense swamp, gathering snails or small
crustacea and water-loving insects.
To be successful in turkey hunting you must learn to rise early in
the morning, ere there is a suspicion of daylight. At such a time the
air is chilly, perhaps it looks like rain, and on awakening you are
likely to yawn, stretch, and look at the time. Unless you possess the
ardor of a sportsman it is not pleasant to rise from a comfortable
bed at this hour and go forth into the chill morning air that
threatens to freeze the marrow in your bones. But it is essential
that you rise before light, and if you are a born turkey hunter
you will soon forget the discomforts. It has been my custom, when
intending to go turkey hunting, never to hesitate a moment, but, on
awakening in the morning, bound out of bed at once and dress as soon
as possible. It has also been my custom to calculate the distance I
am to go, so as to reach the turkey range by the time or a little
before day breaks. I have frequently risen at one or two o'clock in
the morning and ridden twelve miles or more before daybreak for the
chance to kill an old gobbler.
Early morning from the break of day until nine o'clock is the very
best time during the whole day to get turkeys; but the half hour
after daybreak is really worth all the rest of the day; this is the
time when everything chimes with the new-born day; all life is on the
move; diurnal tribes awakening from night's repose are coming into
action, while nocturnal creatures are seeking their retreats. Hence
at this hour there is a conglomeration of animal life and a babel
of mingled sounds not heard at any other time of day. This is the
time to be in the depths of the forest in quest of the wild turkey,
and one should be near their roosting place if possible, quietly
listening and watching every sound and motion. If in the autumn or
winter you are near such a place, you are likely to hear, as day
breaks, the awakening cluck at long intervals; then will follow the
long, gentle, quavering call or yelp of the mother hen, arousing her
sleeping brood and making known to them that the time has arrived for
leaving their roosts. If in the early spring, you will listen for the
salutation of the old gobbler.
CHAPTER II
RANGE, VARIATION, AND NAME
When America was discovered the wild turkey inhabited the wooded
portion of the entire country, from the southern provinces of
Canada and southern Maine, south to southern Mexico, and from
Arizona, Kansas, and Nebraska, east to the Atlantic Ocean and the
Gulf of Mexico. As the turkey is not a migratory bird in the sense
that migration is usually interpreted, and while the range of the
_species_ is one of great extent, as might be expected, owing to
the operation of the usual causes, a number of _subspecies_ have
resulted. At the present time, ornithologists recognize four of these
as occurring within the limits of the United States, as set forth in
Chapter IV beyond.
In countries thickly settled, as in the one where I now write, there
is a great variety of wild turkeys scattered about in the woods of
the small creeks and hills. Many hybrid wild turkeys are killed
here every year. The cause of this is: every old gobbler that dares
to open its mouth to gobble in the spring is within the hearing of
farmers, negroes, and others, and is a marked bird. It is given no
rest until it is killed; hence there are few or no wild turkeys to
take care of the hens, which then visit the domestic gobbler about
the farm-yards. Hence this crossing with the wild one is responsible
for a great variety of plumages.
I once saw a flock of hybrids while hunting squirrels in Pelahatchie
swamp, Mississippi, as I sat at the root of a tree eating lunch,
about one o'clock, with gun across my lap, as I never wish to be
caught out of reach of my gun. Suddenly I heard a noise in the
leaves, and on looking in that direction I saw a considerable flock
of turkeys coming directly toward me in a lively manner, eagerly
searching for food. The moment these birds came in sight I saw they
had white tips to their tails, but they had the form and action of
the wild turkey, and it at once occurred to me that they were a lot
of mixed breeds, half wild, half tame, with the freedom of the
former. I noticed also among them one that was nearly white and one
old gobbler that was a pure wild turkey; but it was too far off to
shoot him. Dropping the lunch and grasping the gun was but the work
of a second; then the birds came round the end of the log and began
scratching under a beech tree for nuts. Seeing two gobblers put their
heads together at about forty yards from me, I fired, killing both.
The flock flew and ran in all directions. One hen passed within
twenty paces of me and I killed it with the second barrel. A closer
examination of the dead birds convinced me that there had been a
cross between the wild and the tame turkeys. The skin on their necks
and heads was as yellow as an orange, or more of a buckskin, buff
color, while the caruncles on the neck were tinged with vermilion,
giving them a most peculiar appearance; all three of those slain had
this peculiar marking, and there was not a shadow of the blue or
purple of the wild turkey about their heads, while all other points,
save the white-tipped feathers, indicated the wild blood.
Shortly after the foregoing incident, while a party of gentlemen,
including my brother, were hunting some five miles below the same
creek, they flushed a flock of wild turkeys, scattering them; one of
the party killed four of them that evening, two of which (hens) were
full-blood wild ones. One of the remaining two, a fine gobbler, had
as red a head as any tame gobbler, and the tips of the tail and rump
coverts were white. The other bird (a hen) was also a half-breed.
There was no buff on their heads and necks, but the purple and blue
of the wild blood was apparent.
Early the next morning my brother went to the place where the turkeys
were scattered the previous afternoon, and began to call. Very soon
he had a reply, and three fine gobblers came running to him, when he
killed two, one with each barrel; now these were full-blood wild ones.
I have noted that a number of wild turkeys in the Brazos bottoms are
very different in some respects from the turkeys of the piney woods
in the eastern section of that state. In Trinity County, Texas, I
found the largest breed of wild turkeys I have found anywhere, but
in the Brazos bottoms the gobblers which I found there in 1876,
in great abundance, were of a smaller stature, but more chunky or
bulky. Their gobble was hardly like that of a wild turkey, the sound
resembling the gobble of a turkey under a barrel, a hoarse, guttural
rumble, quite different in tone from the clear, loud, rolling gobble
of his cousin in the Trinity country. The gobblers of the Brazos
bottoms were also distinguishable by their peculiar beards. In
other varieties of turkeys three inches or less of the upper end of
the beard is grayish, while those of the Brazos bottoms were more
bunchy and black up to the skin of the breast. There is a variety of
turkeys in the San Jacinto region, in the same state, which is quite
slender, dark in color, and has a beard quite thin in brush, but long
and picturesque. His gobble is shrill. This section is a low plain,
generally wet in the spring, partly timbered and partly open prairie.
It is a great place for the turkey.
Since the days of Audubon it has been prophesied that the wild
turkey would soon become extinct. I am glad to say that the
prophecies have not been realized up to the present time, even
with the improved implements of destruction and great increase of
hunters. There is no game that holds its own so well as the wild
turkey. This is particularly true in the southern Gulf States, where
are to be found heavily timbered regions, which are suited to the
habits of this bird. Here shelter is afforded and an ample food
supply is provided the year round. In the states of Florida, Alabama,
Mississippi, North Carolina, Georgia, Louisiana, Texas, Arkansas,
Missouri, and the Indian Territory the wild turkey is still to be
found in reasonable abundance, and if these states will protect them
by the right sort of laws, I am of the opinion that the birds will
increase rapidly, despite the encroachment of civilization and the
war waged upon them by sportsmen. It is not the legitimate methods
of destruction that decimate the turkey ranks, as is the case with
the quail and grouse, but it is the nefarious tricks the laws in
many states permit, namely, trapping and baiting. The latter is by
far the most destructive, and is practised by those who kill turkeys
for the market, and frequently by those who want to slaughter these
birds solely for count. No creature, however prolific, can stand
such treatment long. The quail, though shot in great numbers by both
sportsmen and market hunters, and annually destroyed legitimately
by the thousands, stands it better than the wild turkey, although
the latter produces and raises almost as many young at a time as the
quail.
There are two reasons for this: one is, the quail are not baited and
shot on the ground; the other reason is that every bobwhite in the
spring can, and does, use his call, thus bringing to him a mate; but
the turkey, if he dares to gobble, no matter if he is the only turkey
within a radius of forty miles, has every one who hears him and can
procure a gun, after him, and they pursue him relentlessly until he
is killed. Among the turkeys the hens raised are greatly in excess of
the gobblers. This fact seems to have been provided for by nature in
making the male turkey polygamous; but as the male turkey is, during
the spring, a very noisy bird, continually gobbling and strutting
to attract his harem, and as he is much larger and more conspicuous
than the hens, it is only natural that he is in more danger of being
killed. Suppose the proportion of gobblers in the beginning of the
spring is three to fifteen hens, in a certain stretch of woods. As
soon as the mating season begins, these gobblers will make their
whereabouts known by their noise; result--the gunners are after them
at once, and the chances are ten to one they will all be killed. The
hens will then have no mate and no young will be produced; whereas,
if but one gobbler were left, each of our supposed fifteen hens would
raise an average of ten young each, and we would also have 150 new
turkeys in the fall to yield sport and food. It has always been my
practice to leave at least one old gobbler in each locality to assist
the hens in reproduction. If every hunter would do this the problem
of maintaining the turkey supply would be greatly solved.
The greatest of all causes for the decrease of wild turkeys lies in
the killing of all the old gobblers in the spring. Some say the
yearling gobblers will answer every purpose. I say they will not;
they answer no purpose except to grow and make gobblers for the next
year. The hens are all right--you need have no anxiety about them;
they can take care of themselves; provided you leave them a male
bird that gobbles, they will do the rest. Any suitable community can
have all the wild turkeys it wants if it will obtain a few specimens
and turn them into a small woodland about the beginning of spring,
spreading grain of some sort for them daily. The turkeys will stay
where the food is abundant and where there is a little brush in which
to retire and rest.
Some hunters, or rather some writers, claim that the only time the
wild turkey should be hunted is in the autumn and winter, and not in
the spring. I have a different idea altogether, and claim that the
turkey should not be hunted before November, if then, December being
better. By the first of November the young gobbler weighs from seven
to nine pounds, the hens from four to seven pounds; in December and
January the former weighs twelve pounds and the latter nine pounds.
There you are. But suppose you did not hunt in the spring at all. How
many old, long-bearded gobblers (the joy and delight above every sort
of game on earth to the turkey hunter) would you bag in a year, or
a lifetime? Possibly in ten years you would get one, unless by the
merest accident, as they are rarely, if ever, found in company with
the hens or young gobblers, but go in small bands by themselves, and
from their exclusive and retiring nature it is a rare occasion when
one is killed except in the gobbling season.
Take away the delight of the gobbling season from the turkey hunter,
and the quest of the wild turkey would lose its fascination. In so
expressing myself, I do not advise that the gobblers be persecuted
and worried all through the gobbling season, from March to June, but
believe they could be hunted for a limited time, namely, until the
hens begin to lay and the gobblers to lose their fat--say until the
first of April. Every old turkey hunter knows where to stop, and
does it without limitation of law. Old gobblers are in their best
condition until about the first of April, then they begin to lose
flesh very rapidly. At this time hunting them should be abandoned
altogether.
In my hunting trips after this bird I have covered most of the
southern states, and have been interested to note that all the
Indians I have met called the turkey "Furkee" or "Firkee"; the
tribes I have hunted with include the Choctaws, Chickasaws, Creeks,
Seminoles, and the Cherokees, who live east of the Mississippi River,
and the Alabams, Conchattas, and Zunis of the west. Whether their
name for the bird is a corruption of our turkey, or whether our
word is a corruption of their "Furkee," I am not prepared to state.
It may be that we get our name direct from the aboriginal Indians.
All of the Indian tribes I have hunted with have legends concerning
the turkey, and to certain of the Aztec tribes it was an object of
worship. An old Zuni chief once told me a curious legend of his
people concerning this bird, very similar to the story of the flood.
It runs:
Ages ago, before man came to live on the earth, all birds, beasts,
and fishes lived in harmony as one family, speaking the same
language, and subsisting on sweet herbs and grass that grew in
abundance all over the earth. Suddenly one day the sun ceased to
shine, the sky became covered with heavy clouds, and rain began to
fall. For a long time this continued, and neither the sun, moon,
nor stars were seen. After a while the water got so deep that the
birds, animals, and fishes had either to swim or fly in the air,
as there was no land to stand on. Those that could not swim or fly
were carried around on the backs of those that could, and this kept
up until almost every living thing was almost starved. Then all the
creatures held a meeting, and one from each kind was selected to go
to heaven and ask the Great Spirit to send back the sun, moon, and
stars and stop the rain. These journeyed a long way and at last found
a great ladder running into the sky; they climbed up this ladder
and found at the top a trapdoor leading into heaven, and on passing
through the door, which was open, they saw the dwelling-place of
man, and before the door were a boy and girl playing, and their
playthings were the sun, moon, and stars belonging to the earth. As
soon as the earth creatures saw the sun, moon, and stars, they rushed
for them and, gathering them into a basket, took the children of man
and hurried back to earth through the trapdoor. In their hurry to get
away from the man whom they saw running after them, the trapdoor was
slammed on the tail of the bear, cutting it off. The blood spattered
over the lynx and trout, and since that time the bear has had no
tail, and the lynx and trout are spotted. The buffalo fell down and
hurt his back and has had a hump on it ever since. The sun, moon, and
stars having been put back in their places, the rain stopped at once
and the waters quickly dried up. On the first appearance of land, the
turkey, who had been flying around all the time, lit, although warned
not to do so by the other creatures. It at once began to sink in the
mud, and its tail stuck to the mud so tight that it could hardly fly
up, and when it did get away the end of its tail was covered with mud
and is stained mud color to this day. The earth now having become
dry and the children of man now lords of the earth, each creature was
obliged to keep out of their way, so the fishes took to the waters
using their tails to swim away from man, the birds took to their
wings, and the animals took to their legs; and by these means the
birds, beasts, and fishes have kept out of man's way ever since.
Before dealing with the wild turkeys as they are to-day, it will
be well to make a short study of their prehistoric and historic
standing; this has been ably done for me by Dr. R. W. Shufeldt of
Washington, D. C., who has very kindly written for this work the
next two chapters entitled "The Turkey Prehistoric," and "The Turkey
Historic."
CHAPTER III
THE TURKEY PREHISTORIC
Probably no genus of birds in the American avifauna has received
the amount of attention that has been bestowed upon the turkeys.
Ever since the coming to the New World of the very first explorers,
who landed in those parts where wild turkeys are to be found,
there has been no cessation of verbal narratives, casual notices,
and appearance of elegant literature relating to the members of
this group. We have not far to seek for the reason for all this,
inasmuch as a wild turkey is a very large and unusually handsome
bird, commanding the attention of any one who sees it. Its habits,
extraordinary behavior, and notes render it still more deserving
of consideration; and to all this must be added the fact that wild
turkeys are magnificent game birds; the hunting of them peculiarly
attractive to the sportsman; while, finally, they are easily
domesticated and therefore have a great commercial value everywhere.
The extensive literature on wild and domesticated turkeys is by
no means confined to the English language, for we meet with many
references to these fowls, together with accounts and descriptions
of them, distributed through prints and publications of various
kinds, not only in Latin, but in the Scandinavian languages as well
as in French, German, Spanish, Italian, and doubtless in others of
the Old World. Some of these accounts appeared as long ago as the
early part of the sixteenth century, or perhaps even earlier; for
it is known that Grijalva discovered Mexico in 1518, and Gomarra
and Hernandez, whose writings appeared soon afterward, gave, among
their descriptions of the products of that country, not only the wild
turkey, but, in the case of the latter writer, referred to the wild
as well as to the domesticated form, making the distinction between
the two.
In order, however, to render our history of the wild turkeys in
America as complete as possible, we must dip into the past many
centuries prior to the discovery of the New World by those early
navigators. We must go back to the time when it was questionable
whether man existed upon this continent at all. In other words, we
must examine and describe the material representing our extinct
turkeys handed us by the paleontologists, or the fossilized remains
of the prehistoric ancestors of the family, of which we have at
hand a few fragments of the greatest value. These I shall refer
to but briefly for several reasons. In the first place, their
technical descriptions have already appeared in several widely known
publications, and in the second, what I have here to say about them
is in a popular work, and technical descriptions are not altogether
in place. Finally, such material as we possess is very meagre in
amount indeed, and such parts of it as would in any way interest the
general reader can be referred to very briefly.
The fossil remains of a supposed extinct turkey, described by
Marsh[1] as _Meleagris altus_ from the Post-pliocene of New Jersey,
is, from the literature and notices on the subject, now found to be
but a synonym of the _Meleagris superba_ of Cope from the Pleistocene
of New Jersey. At the present writing I have before me the type
specimen of _Meleagris altus_ of Marsh, for which favor I am indebted
to Dr. Charles Schuchert of the Peabody Museum of Yale University. My
account of it will be published in another connection later on.
Some years after Professor Marsh had described this material as
representing a species to which I have just said he gave the specific
name of _altus_, it would appear that I did not fully concur in the
propriety of doing so, as will be seen from a paper I published
on the subject about fifteen years ago[2]. This will obviate the
necessity of saying anything further in regard to _M. superba_.
So far as my knowledge carries me, this leaves but two other fossil
wild turkeys of this country, both of which have been described
by Professor Marsh and generally recognized. These are _Meleagris
antiqua_ in 1871, and _Meleagris celer_ in 1872. My comments on both
of these species will be found in the _American Naturalist_ for July,
1897, on pages 648, 649.[3]
[Illustration: PLATE I
Types: _M. antiqua_; _M. celer_. Marsh
Fig. 1. Anconal aspect of the distal extremity of the right
humerus of "_Meleagris antiquus_" of Marsh. Fig. 2. Palmar
aspect of the same specimen shown in Fig. 1. Fig. 3. Anterior
aspect of the proximal moiety of the left tarso-metatarsus of
_Meleagris celer_ of Marsh. Fig. 4. Posterior aspect of the
same fragment of bone shown in Fig. 3. Fig. 5. Outer aspect of
the same fragment of bone shown in Figs. 3 and 4. All figures
natural size. Reproduced from photographs made _direct_ from
the specimens by Dr. R. W. Shufeldt.]
It will be noted, then, that _Meleagris antiqua_ of Marsh is
practically represented by the _imperfect_ distal extremity of a
right humerus; and that _Meleagris celer_ of the same paleontologist
from the Pleistocene of New Jersey is said to be represented by the
bones enumerated in a foregoing footnote. In this connection let it
be borne in mind that, while I found fossil specimens of _Meleagris
g. silvestris_ in the bone caves of Tennessee, I found no remains of
fossil turkeys in Oregon, from whence some classifiers of fossil
birds state that _M. antiqua_ came (A. O. U. Check-Listed, 1910, p.
388[4]).
On the 19th of April 1912, I communicated by letter with Dr. George
F. Eaton, of the Museum of Yale University, in regard to the fossils
described by Marsh of _M. antiqua_ and _M. celer_, with the view of
borrowing them for examination. Dr. Eaton, with great kindness, at
once interested himself in the matter, and wrote me (April 20, 1912)
that "We have a wise rule forbidding us to lend type material, but
I shall be glad to ask Professor Schuchert to make an exception in
your favor." In due time Prof. Charles Schuchert, then curator of
the Geological Department of the Peabody Museum of Natural History
of Yale University, wrote me on the subject (May 2, 1912), and with
marked courtesy granted the request made of him by Dr. Eaton, and
forwarded me the type specimen of Marsh of _M. antiqua_ and _M.
celer_ by registered mail. They were received on the 3rd of May,
1912, and I made negatives of the two specimens on the same day. It
affords me pleasure to thank both Professor Schuchert and Dr. Eaton
here for the unusual privilege I enjoyed, through their assistance,
in the loan of these specimens;[5] also Dr. James E. Benedict,
Curator of Exhibits of the U. S. National Museum, and Dr. Charles
W. Richmond of the Division of Birds of that institution, for their
kindness in permitting me to examine and make notes upon a mounted
skeleton of a wild turkey (_M. g. silvestris_) taken by Prof. S. F.
Baird at Carlisle, Penn., many years ago. Mr. Newton P. Scudder,
librarian of the National Museum, likewise has my sincere thanks for
his kindness in placing before me the many volumes on the history
of the turkey I was obliged to consult in connection with the
preparation of this chapter.
From what has already been set forth above, it is clear that Marsh's
specimen (for he attached but scant importance to the _other
fragments_ with it), upon which he based "_Meleagris antiquus_" was
not taken in Oregon, but in Colorado.[6] Both of these fossils I
have very critically compared with the corresponding parts of the
bones represented in each case in the skeleton of an adult wild
turkey (_Meleagris g. silvestris_) in the collection of mounted bird
skeletons in the U. S. National Museum.
Taking everything at my command into consideration as set forth
above, as well as the extent of Professor Marsh's knowledge of the
osteology of existing birds--not heretofore referred to--I am of the
opinion, that in the case of his _Meleagris antiqua_, the material
upon which it is based is altogether too fragmentary to pronounce,
with anything like certainty, that it ever belonged to a turkey at
all. In the first place, it is a very _imperfect_ fragment (Plate
1, Figs. 1 and 2); in the second, it does not typically present the
"characteristic portions" of that end of the humerus in a turkey,
as Professor Marsh states it does. Thirdly, the distal end of the
humerus is by no means a safe fragment of the skeleton of hardly any
bird to judge from. Finally, it is questionable whether the genus
_Meleagris_ existed at all, as such, at the time the "Miocene clay
deposits of northern Colorado" were deposited.
That this fragment may have belonged to the skeleton of some big
gallinaceous fowl the size of an adult existing _Meleagris_--and long
ago extinct--I in no way question; but that it was a _true turkey_, I
very much doubt.
Still more uncertain is the fragment representing _Meleagris celer_
of Marsh. (Plate 1, Figs. 3-5.) The tibia mentioned I have not
seen, and of them Professor Marsh states that they only "probably
belonged to the same individual" (see _antea_). As to this proximal
moiety of the tarso-metatarsus, it is essentially different from the
corresponding part of that bone in _Meleagris g. silvestris_. In it
the _hypotarsus_ is twice grooved, longitudinally; whereas in _M. g.
silvestris_ there is but a single median groove. In the latter bird
there is a conspicuous osseous ridge extending far down the shaft
of the bone, it being continued from the internal, thickened border
of the hypotarsus. This ridge is only _indicated_ on the fossil
bone, having either been broken off or never existed at all. In any
event it is not present in the specimen. The general _facies_ of the
fossil is quite different from that part of the tarso-metatarsus in
an existing wild turkey, and to me it does not seem to have come
from the skeleton of the pelvic limb of a meleagrine fowl at all. It
may have belonged to a bird of the galline group, not essentially a
turkey; while on the other hand it may have been from the skeleton
of some large wader, not necessarily related to either the true
herons or storks. Some of the herons, for example, (_Ardea_) have
"the hypotarsus of the tarso-metatarsus three-crested, graduated in
size, the outer being the smaller; the tendinal grooves pass between
them."[7] As just stated, the hypotarsus of the tarso-metatarsus
in _Meleagris celer_ of Marsh is three-crested, and the tendinal
grooves pass between them. In _M. g. silvestris_ this process is but
two-crested and the median groove passes between them.
The _sternum_ of the turkey, if we have it practically complete, is
one of the most characteristic bones of the skeleton; but Professor
Marsh had no such material to guide him when he pronounced upon his
fossil turkeys. Had I made new species, based on the fragments of
fossil long bones of all that I have had for examination, quite a
numerous little extinct avifauna would have been created.
"It is often a positive detriment to science, in my opinion, to
create new species of fossil birds upon the distal ends of long
bones, and surely no assistance whatever to those who honestly
endeavor to gain some idea of the avian species that really existed
during prehistoric times."[8]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Marsh, O. C. Proc. Acad. Nat. Sci., Phila., 1870, p. 11. Also
Am. Jour. Sci., IV, 1872, 260. In a letter to me under date of April
25, 1912, Dr. George F. Eaton of the Museum of Yale University, New
Haven, Conn., writes that "Type of _Meleagris altus_ is in Peabody
Museum with other types of fossil _Meleagris_." At the present
writing I am not informed as to what these "other types" are; and I
am writing of the opinion that the museum referred to by Doctor Eaton
has no fossil meleagrine material that has not, up to date, been
described. See also Amer. Nat., Vol. IV, p. 317.
Cope, E. D. "Synopsis of Extinct Batrachia, etc." _Meleagris
superbus_ (Trans. Amer. Philos. Soc., N. S. XIV, Pt. 1, 1870, 239).
A long and careful description of _M. superbus_ [superba] will be
found here, where the species is said to be "established on a nearly
perfect right tibia, an imperfect left one, a left femur with the
condyles broken off, and a light coracoid bone, with the distal
articular extremity imperfect."
[2] Shufeldt, R. W., "On Fossil Bird-Bones Obtained by Expeditions
of the University of Pennsylvania from the Bone Caves of Tennessee."
The Amer. Nat., July, 1897, pp. 645-650. Among those bones were many
belonging to _M. g. silvestris_. Professor Marsh declined to allow me
to even see the fossil bones upon which he based the several alleged
new species of extinct _Meleagridæ_ which he had described.
[3] Marsh, O. C. [Title on page 120.] _Meleagris antiqua._ Amer.
Journ. Sci., ser. 3, II, 1871, 126. From this I extract the following
description, to wit:--
_Meleagris antiquus_, sp. nov.
A large Gallinaceous Bird, approaching in size the wild Turkey,
and probably belonging to the same group, was a contemporary
of the _Oreodon_ and its associates during the formation of
the Miocene lake deposits east of the Rocky Mountains. The
species is at present represented only by a few fragments
of the skeleton, but among these is a distal end of a right
humerus, with the characteristic portions all preserved. The
specimen agrees in its main features with the humerus of
_Meleagris gallopavo_ Linn., the most noticeable points of
difference being the absence in the fossil species of the broad
longitudinal ridge on the inner surface of the distal end,
opposite the radial condyle, and the abrupt termination of the
ulnar condyle at its outer, superior border.
Measurements
Greatest diameter of humerus at distal end 12. lines
Transverse diameter of ulnar condyle 3.4 "
Vertical diameter of same 4. "
Transverse diameter of radial condyle 4.25 "
The specimens on which this species is based were discovered
by Mr. G. B. Grinnell of the Yale party, in the Miocene clay
deposits of northern Colorado.
_Ibid._ IV, 1878, 261. [Title on p. 256.] "Art XXX. Notice of some
new Tertiary and Post-Tertiary Birds." From this article by Professor
Marsh I extract the following:
_Meleagris celer_, sp. nov.
A much smaller species of the same genus is represented by two
tibiae and the proximal half of a tarso-metatarsal, which were
found together, and probably belonged to the same individual.
The tibia is slender, and has the shaft less flattened from
before backward than in the last species [_M. altus_]. The
distal half of the shaft has its anterior face more distinctly
polygonal. From the head of the tibia a sharp ridge descends
a short distance on the posterior face, where it is met by an
external ridge of similar length. The tarso-metatarsal has
the external ridge of the proximal end more prominent, and
the posterior tendinal crest more ossified than in the larger
species. The remains preserved indicate a bird about half the
bulk of _M. altus_.
Measurements.
Length of tibia 183. mm
Greatest diameter of proximal end 34. "
Transverse diameter of shaft at middle 9.6 "
Transverse diameter of distal end 16.5 "
Antero-posterior diameter of outer condyle 10. "
Transverse diameter of proximal end of tarso-metatarsus 19. "
Antero-posterior diameter 14. "
On page 260 is described _Meleagris altus_:
_Meleagris altus_ [Marsh]. Proc. Phila. Acad. 1870, p. 11, and
Amer. Nat., Vol. IV, p. 317. (_M. superbus_ Cope, Synopsis Extinct
Batrachia etc., p. 239.)
(Followed by description and the following measurements of the fossil
bones.)
Length (approx.) of humerus 159.5 mm
Greatest diameter proximal end 42. "
Greatest diameter distal end 33. "
Length of coracoid 122. "
Transverse diameter of lower end 37.5 "
Length of femur 150. "
Transverse diameter of distal end 31. "
Length of tibia 243. "
Transverse diameter of distal end 18. "
Length of tarso-metatarsus 176. "
Transverse diameter of proximal end 23. "
Distance from proximal end to spur 110. "
(A number of differences as compared with existing species are
enumerated)
[4] Shufeldt, R. W. A Study of the Fossil Avifauna of the Equus Beds
of the Oregon Desert. Journ. Acad. Nat. Sci., Phila., ser. 2, IX,
1892, pp. 389-425. Pls. XV-XVII. Advance abstracts of this memoir
were published in The Auk (Vol. VIII, No. 4, October, 1891, pp.
365-368). The American Naturalist (Vol. XXV, No. 292, Apr., 1891,
pp. 303-306, and _ibid._ No. 297, Sept., 1891, pp. 818-821) and
elsewhere. Although no turkeys were discovered among these fossils,
there were bones present of extinct grouse.
[5] Upon examining this material after it came into my hands, I found
first, in a small tube closed with a cork, the distal end of the
right humerus of some large bird. The cork was marked on the side,
"Type," on top "_Mel. antiquus_. G. Ranch. Col. G. B. G. August
6, 1870." The specimen is pure white, thoroughly fossilized, and
imperfect. The second of the two specimens received is in a small
pasteboard box, marked on top "Birds. Meleagris, sp. nov. N. J.,
_Meleagrops celer_ (type)." The specimen is the imperfect, proximal
moiety of the left tarso-metatarsus of a rather large bird. It is
thoroughly fossilized, earth-brown in color, with the free borders
of the proximal end considerably worn off. On its postero-external
aspect, written in ink, are the words "_M. celer_."
[6] In making this statement, I take the words of Dr. Geo. Bird
Grinnell as written on the cork of the bottle containing the specimen
to be correct, and not the locality given elsewhere. (The A. O. U.
Check-List of North American Birds. Third Edition, 1910, p. 388.)
Moreover, the specimen is pure white, which is characteristic of
the fossils found in the White River region of Colorado. This is
confirmed by Professor Marsh in his article quoted above.
[7] Shufeldt, R. W. "Osteological Studies of the Subfamily Ardeinæ."
Journ. Comp. Med. and Surg., Vol. X, No. 4, Phila., October, 1889,
pp. 287-317.
[8] Shufeldt, R. W. Amer. Nat, July. 1897. p. 648. I have had no
occasion to change my opinion since.