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Grey, Zane, 1872-1939

"Tales of lonely trails"

I told R.C. to take the boy and slip
down, and run and hide and run till they got close enough for a shot.
I would keep to the edge of the ravine.
Some moments later I saw R.C. and the boy running and stooping and
creeping along the bottom of the ravine. Then I ran myself to reach a
point opposite the turkeys, so in case they flew uphill I might get a
shot. But I did not see them, and nothing happened. I lost sight of
the turkeys. Hurrying back to where I had tied my horse I mounted him
and loped ahead and came out upon the ravine some distance above. Here
I hunted around for a little while. Once I heard the report of the .20
gauge, and then several rifle shots. Upon returning I found that Lee
and Nielsen had wasted some shells. R.C. and Romer came wagging up the
hill, both red and wet and tired. R.C. carried a small turkey, about
the size of a chicken. He told me, between pants, that they chased the
four large turkeys, and were just about to get a shot when up jumped a
hen-turkey with a flock of young ones. They ran every way. He got one.
Then he told me, between more pants and some laughs, that Romer
had chased the little turkeys all over the ravine, almost catching
several. Romer said for himself: "I just almost pulled feathers out of
their tails. Gee! if I'd had a gun!"
We resumed our journey. About the middle of the afternoon Doyle called
my attention to an opening in the forest through which I could see the
yellow-walled rim of the mesa, and the great blue void below.


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