When the leader of the flock had arrived at the spot where his charge had been accustomed to roost, he suddenly stopped, glanced cautiously around him for a few seconds, then apparently satisfied that all was right, he gave the signal--a sharp, quick, shrill whistle. At that instant, every bird, with one accord and a tremendous fluttering of wing, raised itself and alighted in the topmost branches of the tallest trees. In a few moments more, numerous flocks having settled themselves for a peaceful slumber, the old trapper said to the boys: "Now is our time; let's begin!" Joe had his little Ballard rifle, that had never yet played him false on his hunts with the chief of the Pawnees; Rob had a shot-gun, and Mr. Tucker his never-failing old-fashioned piece which he had carried for twenty-five years. They fired at first almost simultaneously, but after the first discharge each fired on his own hook. The turkeys fell like the leaves in October. The birds not killed at the first fire did not seem to have sense enough, as Mr. Tucker had said, to escape from their doom. They flew from tree to tree at every shot, persistently remaining in the immediate vicinity of the roost, with all the characteristic idiocy of the sage hen. When it was time to think of going home, they gathered up their birds, and found they had killed fourteen--more than an average of four apiece. It was all they could do to pack the birds on their ponies, and they were compelled to walk them all the way to the ranche to keep the birds from falling off. The next morning Joe took the turkeys to Fort Harker, where he disposed of them at a fair price, and received many thanks besides, for his prompt action in response to Colonel Keogh's request to go hunting for them. CHAPTER XV HOW THE ROBIN CAME TO KANSAS--MOCKING-BIRDS--EATEN BY SNAKES--JOE LOSES HIS TAME ELK--THE LAST OF THE WOLVES--FINDING THE QUAIL'S NEST--JOE BUILDS A CAGE FOR THEM--RAISING CHICKENS THE winter was short, and soon came April, with its sunny skies. The robins, wrens, blue jays, and the mocking-birds made the woods melodious with their sweet notes. The violets by the brook side under the shade of the great trees were the first harbingers of the beautiful season, and the dining-table was made odorous with their blue blossoms at every meal. Both Kate and Gertrude loved flowers, and never failed to gather three times a day, a large bowl full of these poems of springtime. Mr. Tucker surprised them one evening by paying them a visit after a solitary hunting expedition up the creek. The boys soon persuaded him to stay the night, and tell them a story until bedtime. "What shall it be, hunting or fighting?" said Mr. Tucker, turning to Joe. Before her brother could speak, Gertrude answered for him. "Tell us that legend about the robin, that you have promised us so often."