The young hunter turned, and imprisoning Cloud's nostril in his
nervous grasp, looked fixedly into that intelligent animal's eyes.
Cloud seemed to understand very well--nodded his head--drew a long
breath--and stood like a statue. Verty then placed his foot upon
Longears, made a gesture with his hand, and Longears showed himself
equally docile. He laid down, and without moving, followed his master
with his eyes, and listened.

Verty crept noiselessly, without treading on a leaf or a twig, to a
neighboring thicket, from which the horse and dog were not visible.
He then lay down in the bushy top of a fallen pine, and without the
assistance of any "call," such as hunters generally make use of,
uttered the low, cautious cry of the wild turkey. This he repeated a
number of times, and then remained still.

For ten or fifteen minutes no noise disturbed the stillness of the
forest; all was quiet. Then a slight agitation of the leaves was
visible at the distance of fifty or sixty yards, and a magnificent
gobbler made his appearance, moving his bright head, and darting upon
every side glances of curiosity and circumspection.

He was looking for the female who had called him.

Verty cocked his rifle, and uttered the low croak again.

This seemed to remove any fears which the turkey had--he replied
to it, and advanced toward Verty's impromptu "blind." A streak of
sunlight through the boughs fell on his burnished neck and brilliant
head, and he paused again.