The Guerilla Chief Part 41

If old Buffon, the charlatan naturalist of France, could have but eaten a slice of the _meleagris_ under such circ.u.mstances, he might, perhaps, have conceded to the birds of America some of the good qualities which he has so recklessly denied them.

But the palate of this presumptuous curator of moth-eaten remains, had never been indulged with the delicate flavour of a canvas-back duck, a "reed-bird," a grouse of the prairies, or a wild turkey trapped amidst the solitudes of an American forest.

He had studied their habits only at second-hand, while their bright hues, their sweet songs, and their many other valuable qualities, he could only deduce, or deny, from the stuffed and damaged skins seen by him in a "royal collection."

With such superiority of flesh, it is scarcely necessary to say, that there are people who make it their business to procure the wild turkey, and send the bird to market. There are a few men throughout the United States who follow this business as an exclusive calling; but more often the turkey is obtained as part of the game-bag of the regular deer-hunter, and by him sold to the consumer.

The gun is used, as with other game-birds; and when it is a fowling-piece, buck-shot--the swan-shot of European countries--is the kind necessarily required to kill such a large, strong bird. The regular deer-hunter, however, never thinks of carrying a fowling-piece; and his pea-rifle, with a barrel of nearly five feet in length, and bored for a bullet not much larger than the buck-shot itself, is with him the weapon for turkeys, deer, wolves, bears, panthers, and even Indians--if need be.

There's still another method of hunting the turkey, practised on the prairies; and that is with horses and hounds!

My young readers will no doubt be surprised to hear that a wild turkey, with wings over five feet in spread, can be captured by dogs. But such is the fact; as I can a.s.sure them, by having myself ridden in many a chase of the sort, and more than once have I had the good fortune to be "in at the death."

Taking the turkey after this fashion is called "running it down."

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 circ.u.mstance--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 pa.s.sion.

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 a.s.sociate with the humbler growth const.i.tuting the copses.

On the prairie towards which we were proceeding, the timber growth was princ.i.p.ally 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 s.p.a.ce 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 gra.s.s," and go legging it, with outstretched neck and flopping wings as before--as before to be overhauled by hounds and hors.e.m.e.n.

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 gra.s.s--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 gra.s.s, and continue his _flight_ upon his long red legs.