“Early in March they begin to pair; and, for a short time previous, the females separate from, and shun their mates, though the latter pertinaciously follow them, uttering their gobbling note. The sexes roost apart, but at no great distance, so that, when the female utters a call every male within hearing responds, rolling note after note, in the most rapid succession; not as when spreading the tail and strutting near the hen, but in a voice resembling that of the tame Turkey, when he hears any unusual or frequently repeated noise. When the Turkeys are numerous, the woods from one end to the other, sometimes for hundreds of miles, resound with this remarkable voice of their wooing, uttered responsively from their roosting-places. This is continued for about an hour; and, on the rising of the sun, they instantly descend from their perches, and the males begin to strut, for the purpose of winning the admiration of their mates.
“If the call be given from the ground, the males in the vicinity fly towards the individual, and, whether they perceive her or not, erect and spread their tails, throw the head backwards, distend the comb and wattles, strut pompously and rustle their wings and body feathers, at the same moment ejecting a puff of air from the lungs. Whilst thus occupied, they occasionally halt to look out for the female, and then resume their strutting and puffing, moving with as much rapidity as the nature of their gait will admit. During this ceremonious approach, the males often encounter each other, and desperate battles ensue, when the conflict is only terminated by the flight or death of the vanquished.
“About the middle of April, when the weather is dry, the female selects a proper place in which to deposit her eggs, secure from the encroachment of water, and, as far as possible, concealed from the watchful eye of the Crow. This crafty bird espies the hen going to her nest, and, having discovered the precious deposit, waits for the absence of the parent, and removes every one of the eggs from the spot, that he may devour them at leisure. The nest is placed on the ground, either on a dry ridge, in the fallen top of a dead leafy tree, under a thicket of sumach or briars, or by the side of a log; it is of a very simple structure, being composed of a few dried leaves. In this receptacle the eggs are deposited, sometimes to the number of twenty, but more usually from nine to sixteen; they are whitish, spotted with reddish brown, like that of the domestic bird. Their manner of building, number of eggs, period of incubation, &c., appear to correspond throughout the Union, as I have received exactly similar accounts from the northern limits of the Turkey range to the most southern limits of Florida, Louisiana, and the western wilds of Missouri.
“The female always approaches her nest with great caution, varying her course so as rarely to reach it twice by the same route; and on leaving her charge, she is very careful to cover the whole with dry leaves, with which she conceals it so artfully as to make it extremely difficult, even for one who has watched her movements, to indicate the exact spot; hence few nests are found, and these are generally discovered by fortuitously starting the female from them, or by the appearance of broken shells, scattered around by some cunning Lynx, Fox, or Crow. When laying or sitting, the Turkey hen is not easily driven from her post by the approach of apparent danger; but if an enemy appears, she crouches as low as possible, and suffers it to pass. A circumstance related by Mr. Audubon will show how much intelligence they display on such occasions: having discovered a sitting hen, he remarked that, by assuming a careless air, whistling, or talking to himself, he was permitted to pass within five or six feet of her; but if he advanced cautiously, she would not suffer him to come within twenty paces, but ran off twenty or thirty yards with her tail expanded, when, assuming a stately gait, she paused on every step, occasionally uttering a chuck. They seldom abandon their nests on account of being discovered by a man, but should a Snake, or any other animal, suck one of the eggs, the parent leaves them altogether. If the eggs be removed, or destroyed, she again commences laying, although otherwise she lays but one nest of eggs during the season. Several Turkey hens sometimes associate, perhaps for mutual safety, deposit their eggs in the same nest, and rear their broods together.
“When the process of incubation is ended, and the mother is about to retire from the nest with her young brood, she shakes herself violently, pecks and adjusts the feathers about the belly, and assumes a different aspect; her eyes are alternately inclined obliquely upwards and sideways; she stretches forth her neck, in every direction, to discover birds of prey or other enemies; her wings are partially spread, and she softly chucks to keep her tender offspring close to her side. They proceed slowly, and, as the hatching generally occurs in the afternoon, they sometimes return to pass the first night in the nest. While very young, the mother leads them to elevated dry places, as if aware that humidity during the first few days of their life would be very dangerous to them, they having then no other protection than a delicate, soft, hairy down. In very rainy seasons wild Turkeys are scarce, because, when completely wetted, the young rarely survive.
“At the expiration of about two weeks, the young leave the ground on which they had previously reposed at night under the female, and follow her to some low branch of a tree, where they nestle under the broadly curved wings of their vigilant and fostering parent. The time then approaches in which they seek the open ground or prairie land, during the day, in search of strawberries, and subsequently of dewberries, blackberries, and Grasshoppers; thus securing a plentiful food, and enjoying the influence of the genial sun. They frequently dust themselves in shallow cavities of the soil or on ant-hills, in order to clean off the loose skin of their growing feathers, and rid themselves of ticks and other vermin. The young Turkeys now grow rapidly, and in the month of August, when several broods flock together, and are led by their mothers to the forest, they are stout and quite able to secure themselves from the unexpected attacks of Wolves, Foxes, Lynxes, and even Cougars, by rising quickly from the ground, aided by their strong legs, and reaching with ease the upper limbs of the tallest tree. Amongst the numerous enemies of the Wild Turkey, the most dreaded are the large diurnal and nocturnal birds of prey, and the Lynx, who sucks their eggs, and is extremely expert at seizing both parent and young: he follows them for some distance in order to ascertain their course, and then, making a rapid circular movement, places himself in ambush before them, and waits until, by a single bound, he can fasten on his victim.
“Turkeys are very watchful birds, and act as guardians of each other; the first who observes a Hawk, Eagle, or other enemy, giving a note of alarm, on which all within hearing lie close on the ground. As they usually roost in flocks, perched on the naked branches of trees, they are easily discovered by the large Owls, and when attacked by these prowling birds, often escape by a somewhat remarkable manœuvre. The Owl sails around the spot to select his prey; but notwithstanding the almost inaudible action of his pinions, the quick ear of one of the slumberers perceives the danger, which is immediately announced to the whole party by a chuck; thus alarmed, they rise on their legs and watch the motions of the Owl, who, darting like an arrow, would inevitably secure the individual at which he aimed, did not the latter suddenly drop his head, squat, and spread his tail over his back; the Owl then glances over without inflicting any injury, and at the very instant that the Turkey suffers himself to fall headlong towards the earth, when he is secure from his dreaded enemy.”
“Thank you, Harry!” said Uncle Thomas. “We shall now stop for the evening; but before you go, I must tell you of a little adventure with a Lynx, which happened to a gentleman who was enjoying the sport of Turkey-shooting:—‘Having seen a large flock of Turkeys at some distance,’ says he, ‘I approached them with great caution, when singling out a large cock, and being just on the point of firing, I observed that several young cocks were affrighted, and, in their language warned the rest to be on their guard against an enemy, who I plainly perceived was industriously making his subtle approaches towards them, behind the fallen trunk of a tree, about twenty yards from me. This cunning fellow-hunter was a large Wild-cat or Lynx; he saw me, and at times seemed to watch my motions, as if determined to seize the delicious prey before me, upon which I changed my object, and levelled my piece at him. At this instant my companion, at a distance, also discharged his gun, the report of which alarmed the flock of Turkeys, and my fellow-hunter, the Lynx, sprang over the log, and trotted off.’”
“He seemed to watch my motions, as if determined to seize the delicious prey.”
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