“Fair play, Billy Kirby—stand back—make 'em stand back, boys—gib a nigger fair play—poss-up,—gobbler; shake a head, fool; don't you see 'em taking aim?”
These cries, which were intended as much to distract the attention of the marksman as for anything else, were fruitless.
The nerves of the wood-chopper were not so easily shaken, and he took his aim with the utmost deliberation. Stillness prevailed for a moment, and he fired. The head of the turkey was seen to dash on one side, and its wings were spread in momentary fluttering; but it settled itself down calmly into its bed of snow, and glanced its eyes uneasily around. For a time long enough to draw a deep breath, not a sound was heard. The silence was then broken by the noise of the negro, who laughed, and shook his body with all kinds of antics, rolling over in the snow in the excess of delight.
“Well done, a gobbler,” he cried, jumping up and affecting to embrace his bird; “I tell 'em to poss-up, and you see 'em dodge. Gib anoder shillin', Billy, and halb anoder shot.”
“No—the shot is mine,” said the young hunter; “you have my money already. Leave the mark, and let me try my luck.”
“Ah! it's but money thrown away, lad,” said Leather-Stocking. “A turkey's head and neck is but a small mark for a new hand and a lame shoulder. You'd best let me take the fire, and maybe we can make some settlement with the lady about the bird.”
“The chance is mine,” said the young hunter. “Clear the ground, that I may take it.”
The discussions and disputes concerning the last shot were now abating, it having been determined that if the turkey's head had been anywhere but just where it was at that moment, the bird must certainly have been killed. There was not much excitement produced by the preparations of the youth, who proceeded in a hurried manner to take his aim, and was in the act of pulling the trigger, when he was stopped by Natty.
“Your hand shakes, lad,” he said, “and you seem over eager. Bullet-wounds are apt to weaken flesh, and to my judgment you'll not shoot so well as in common. If you will fire, you should shoot quick, before there is time to shake off the aim.”
“Fair play,” again shouted the negro; “fair play—gib a nigger fair play. What right a Nat Bumppo advise a young man? Let 'em shoot—clear a ground.”