"Didn't hit him—at such a short distance?" said Whopper, in disgust.
"Of course I hit him."
"Then why didn't he tumble down or fly away?" came from Shep.
"He'd fly quick enough—if he could," said Snap. "There is something wrong with him. Maybe he is caught fast in the crotch of the limb."
Guns in hand the four boy hunters ran forward until they stood directly under the silver maple. Here they could see the head and the tail of the wild turkey, but that was all. The game did not offer to move, even when Whopper set up a shout.
"He's dead and caught fast, I am sure of it," said Whopper. "If it were otherwise he would surely flutter down or fly away."
"You'll have to do some climbing to get your game," said the doctor's son.
"Well, I can do that, too—if you'll give me a boost," answered
Whopper, passing over the shotgun and laying aside his rifle.
The others assisted him to reach the lower limbs of the silver maple, and up he went from one branch to another until he stood directly beneath the wild turkey. He put forth his hand with caution.
"Be careful," cried Shep. "If the turkey is still alive he may show fight and try to peck out your eyes."
Shielding himself as best he could, Whopper presently caught the turkey by one foot. He pulled gently at first and then gave a strong yank. Down came the game from the crotch of the tree, and Whopper almost lost his balance. To save himself he let the game drop to the ground and clutched at the tree branches nearest to him.