"There's no Indian about," he said. "I killed two turkeys with
one shot, and I'm mighty proud of it, too. I saw that they were
directly in the line of the bullet, and it went through both."

Silent Tom heaved a mighty sigh of relief, drawn up from great
depths.

"I'm tre-men-jeous-ly glad uv that, Henry," he said. "Now when I
saw that third turkey come tumblin' down I wuz shore that one
Injun or mebbe more had got on this snug little place uv ourn in
the swamp, an' that we'd hev to go to fightin' ag'in. Thar come
times, Henry, when my mind just natchally rises up an' rebels
ag'in fightin', 'specially when I want to eat or sleep. Ain't
thar anythin' else but fight, fight, fight, 'though I 'low a
feller hez got to expect a lot uv it out here in the woods?"

They picked up the three turkeys, two gobblers and a hen, and
found them large and fat as butter. More than once the wild
turkey had come to their relief, and, in fact, this bird played a
great part in the life of the frontier, wherever that frontier
might be, as it shifted steadily westward. As they walked back
toward the hut they faced three figures, all three with leveled
rifles.

"All right, boys," sang out Henry. "It's nobody but Tom and
myself, bringing in our breakfast."

The three dropped their rifles.

"That's good," said Shif'less Sol. "When them shots roused us