And fire we did. A half dozen tongues of flame shot upward, and the roar of our unmasked battery reverberated over the solitude. The rustling and fluttering among the tree tops was terrific, and showers of twigs and bark rained down upon us. Every one of us knew that his shot had told, yet for some reason, perhaps owing to the superior cunning of the birds, none fell at our feet. Before regaining the wagon, however, we found fluttering on our path a fine fat one with a shattered second joint. It was claimed by Sachem, on the ground that in his aiming he had made legs a speciality, not wishing to injure the breasts. Later in the season, when the birds had become much wilder, I often shot them, both running and flying. They are very hard to kill, and a sorely wounded one will often astonish the hunter by running long distances, or hiding where it seems impossible. The fall through the air, or sudden stop from full speed when running, are alike exciting spectacles. And the big body, with red throat and dark plume, luscious even to look at, is fit game to excite the pride of any sportsman. The modes of hunting the wild turkey are numerous.[2] Mounted on a swift pony it is not difficult to run one down, as may be done in half an hour, the birds, when pushed, seeking the open prairie and its ravines at once. On foot, with a dog, they can easily be started from cover, and generally rise with a tremendous commotion among the bushes, when they may be brought down with coarse shot. Another method of turkey shooting, and one that became quite a favorite of mine, was to steal out from camp in the gray of early morning--so early that only the tops of the trees were visible against the sky--provided with a rifle and shot gun both. When the birds have once been hunted, extreme caution is necessary to get within seventy yards of them. Upon a high bough, in the gloom, the old gobbler appears twice his real size, looking as long as a rail. Try the rifle first, and, two chances out of three, there is a miss. Then, as the great wings spread suddenly, like dark sails against the sky, and the big body, launched from the bough, shakes the tree top as if a wind was passing through it, catch your shot gun, and fire. In the dim light, and at long distance, it takes a quick and true eye to call from the ground that welcome resound which tells of game fallen. [2] The amateur sportsman or other reader, will find them described at length in the Appendix.