Indeed, it proved to be a good day all around, for just then they heard George letting fly with both barrels, and following it with a glad whoop.
"He's gone and got something," declared Josh. "Ain't it queer how things run? With us it's feast or a famine all the while. D'ye reckon it was a deer he knocked over, Jack?"
"More'n likely another shoat," said Nick, grinning; "but even if it is, razorback pork ain't half bad when a feller's real hungry."
Presently George came in. It was getting near dusk, and they could just see that he was carrying a load of some sort on his back, which he tried to hide until he could reach camp.
Josh began to grunt at a lively rate, by which he hinted that they anticipated another diet of pork.
"What did you run up against, George?" asked Jack.
"That!" exclaimed the proud Nimrod, as he swung his burden around.
"Great governor! it's a turkey, as sure as you live!" shouted Josh.
At that Nick could hold in no longer, but began to dance around in great glee, rubbing himself as though in anticipation of the feast to come, and making all sorts of suggestive motions, after the manner of a man feeding.
"How under the sun did you get close enough to knock the big bird down with a charge of quail shot?" asked Jack, pleased because George had held up his reputation as a sportsman.