CHAPTER XV.

Wild turkeys.

Without delay the Rover boys dropped behind the bushes, and John Barrow did the same.  All kept as quiet as possible, for they knew that on the first alarm the wild turkeys would be off.

The game was not over six feet from the ground, sitting in three rows on as many branches of a hemlock that overhung the stream.  There were over a dozen in the flock, each as plump as wild turkeys ever get.

“How shall we fire?” asked Dick.  “There is no call for all of us to shoot at the same bird.”

“I’ll take one on the left,” answered John Barrow.  “You take one on the right.  Tom can take a middle one sitting high, and Sam a middle one sitting low.  All ready?”

“Yes,” came the answer, from one after another.

“Then fire when I say three.  One, two—­three!”

Bang! bang! went the firearms, and as the reports echoed through the forest, two of the wild turkeys were seen to drop dead under the branches upon which they had been sitting.  One, that was badly wounded, fluttered down and began to thrash around in the brush.  The rest of the flock flew away with a rush and were lost to sight between the trees.

“Three!  That isn’t so bad!” cried Dick, as they all started on a run forward.  Soon they had the turkey on the ground surrounded, and John Barrow caught up the game and wrung its neck.

“I guess I missed my mark,” came rather sheepishly from Tom.

“You!” exclaimed Sam, in surprise.  “I was just going to say I had missed.”

“Nobody missed,” put in the guide.

“Nobody?” came from the three Rovers.

“Somebody must have missed,” added Tom.  “We fired four shots and only got three birds.”

“One of those that flew off was wounded.  He dropped a lot of feathers and went up in a shaky fashion.  Of course, he got away, but just the same, he was hit.”

“Well, I thought I missed clean and clear,” said Tom doubtfully.

“And I thought I missed,” laughed Sam.  “I guess we’ll have to divide that third bird between us, Tom.”

“We’ve got all the wild-turkey meat we’ll want on this trip,” came from John Barrow.  “Before this is gone, you’ll want a change, I’ll warrant you.”

While the guide was caring for the birds the boys went back for the sleds.  Soon they were again on the way, and they did not stop until the vicinity of the falls was left far behind and they had again reached a point where skating would be good for several miles.

“Reckon we can stop here and have dinner,” observed the guide.  “Feelin’ kind o’ hungry, aint you?”

“Just guess I am hungry,” declared Tom “But I didn’t want to say anything till the rest did.”

Some of the cooking utensils were unpacked, and while the boys got wood for the fire, John Barrow brought out some coffee and other things.  It was decided that they should not take time to cook a turkey until they went into camp for the night.