This occasion appeared
more strenuous than usual. "Son, what's the idea?" I inquired. "It's
just daylight--not time to get up." He desisted from his labors
long enough to pant: "Uncle Rome's--gone after turkeys. Edd's going
to--call them with--a caller--made out of a turkey's wing-bone." And
I said: "But they've gone now." Whereupon he subsided: "Darned old
boots! I heard Edd and Uncle Rome. I'd been ready if I could have got
into my darned old boots.... See here, Dad, I'm gonna wear moccasins."
III
As we were sitting round the camp-fire, eating breakfast, R.C. and Edd
returned; and R.C. carried a turkey gobbler the very size and color of
the one I had shot the night before. R.C.'s face wore the keen, pleased
expression characteristic of it when he had just had some unusual and
satisfying experience.
[Illustration: ZANE GREY ON DON CARLOS]
[Illustration: WILD TURKEY]
"Sure was great," he said, warming his hands at the fire. "We went up
on the hill where you killed your gobbler last night. Got there just
in the gray light of dawn. We were careful not to make any noise. Edd
said if there were any more turkeys they would come down at daylight.
So we waited until it was light enough to see. Then Edd got out his
turkey bone and began to call. Turkeys answered from the trees all
around. By George, it was immense! Edd had picked out a thicket of
little pines for us to hide in, and in front of us was a glade with a
big fallen tree lying across it.
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