"At last Nancy saw the bushes stir a few rods in front of her, and raised her gun into position, still hiding in the tangle. Albert discovered a movement in front of him, and he took the same position. "Nancy was sure she could see something dark before her, and that it must be the turkey in the tangle. She put her finger on the lock of the gun, when a voice in the air said: "'Quit!' "'It's a turkey in the tops of the timber,' thought she, 'and he is watchin' me, and warnin' the other turkey.' "Albert, too, was preparin' to shoot in the tangle when the command from the tree-top came. Each thought it would be well to reconnoiter a little, so as to get a better shot. "Nancy kneeled down on the moss among the red-berry bushes, and peeked cautiously through an openin' in the tangle. What was that? "A hat? Yes, it was a hat! "Albert he peeked through another openin', and his heart sunk like a stone within him. What was that? A bonnet? Yes, it was a bonnet! "Was ever such a thing as that seen before in the timber? Bears had been seen, and catamounts, and prairie wolves, but a bonnet! He drew back his gun. Just then there came another command from the tree-top: "'Quit!' "Now, would you believe it? Well, two guns were discharged at that turkey in the tree, and it came tumblin' down, a twenty-pounder, dead as a stone. "Nancy run toward it. Albert run towards it. "'It's yourn,' said Nancy. "'It's yourn,' said Albert. "Each looked at the other. "Nancy looked real pink and pretty, and Albert he looked real noble and handsome-like. "'I'm thinkin',' said Albert, 'it kind o' belongs to both of us.' "'So I think, too,' said Nancy, said she. 'Come over to my cabin and I'll cook it for ye. I'm an honest girl, I am.' "The two went along as chipper as two squirrels. The creek looked really pretty to 'em, and the prairie was all a-glitter with frost, and the sky was all pleasant-like, and you know the rest. There, now. They're livin' there yet. Just like poetry--wasn't it, now?" "Very extraordinary," said the Tunker, "very! I never read a novel like that. Very extraordinary!" A tall, lank, wiry boy came up to the door. "Abe, I do declare!" said Aunt Olive. "Come in. I'm makin' doughnuts, and you sha'n't have one of them. I make Scriptur' doughnuts, and the Scriptur' says if a man spends his time porin' over books, of which there is no end, neither shall he eat, or somethin' like that--now don't it, elder?--But seein' it's you, Abe, and you are a pretty good boy, after all, when people are in trouble, and sick and such, I'll make you an elephant. There ain't any elephants in Injiany." Aunt Olive cut a piece of doughnut dough in the shape of a picture-book elephant and tossed it into the fat. It swelled up to enormous proportions, and when she scooped it out with a ladle it was, for a doughnut, an elephant indeed.