Thirty-One Years on the Plains and In the Mountains | Page 8

William F. Drannan
is now a thriving little city in southeastern Kansas, but then the
extreme out-edge of settlement.
The first day out we traveled until about 2 o'clock in the afternoon,
when we came to a fine camping place with abundance of grass, wood
and water.
Uncle Kit, thinking we had traveled far enough for the first day, said:
"I reckon the lad is gittin' tired, Hughes, 's well as the horses, an' I think
we'd better pull up for the day."
I was glad to hear this, for I had done more riding chat day than in any
one day in my life, before.
Uncle Kit told me it would be my job, on the trip as soon as my horse
was unsaddled, to gather wood and start a fire, while he and Mr.
Hughes unpacked the animals. So I unsaddled my horse, and by the
time they had the horses unpacked I had a good fire going and plenty of
water at hand for all purposes. Mr. Hughes, meantime, got out the
coffee-pot and frying-pan, and soon we had a meal that I greatly
enjoyed and which was the first one for me by a camp- fire.
After we had eaten, and smoked and lounged for a while, Uncle Kit
asked me if I did not wish to try my rifle.
Of course I did.

So taking a piece of wood and sharpening one end that it might be
driven into the ground, he took a piece of charcoal and made on the flat
side of the wood a mark for me to shoot at.
"Now Willie," said Uncle Kit, "if you ever expect to be a good hunter
you must learn to be a good shot, and you can't begin practicin' too
soon."
I had never fired a gun, but I had made up my mind to be a mighty
hunter and so started in for shooting practice with much zeal. Uncle Kit
gave me few instructions about How to hold the gun, and I raised the
rifle to my face and fired the first shot of my life.
I do not know how close my bullet came to that mark, nor how far it
missed, for the wood was untouched. But I tried it again and with much
better success, for this time I struck the stick about eight inches below
the mark. This was great encouragement and from that on I could
scarcely take time to eat meals in camp, in my anxiety to practice, and I
was further encouraged by Uncle Kit's approval of my desire to
practice.
One evening I overheard Uncle Kit say to Mr. Huges, "That boy is
going to make a dead shot afterwhile."
This gave me great faith in my future as a hunter and Uncle Kit and Mr.
Hughes seemed to take great delight in teaching me all the tricks of
rifle marksmanship.
After we had traveled about two days we came to a belt of country
where there were wild turkeys in great numbers, and on the morning of
the third day out, Uncle Kit called me early, saying:
"Come Willie, jump up now, an' le's go an' see if we can't git a wild
turkey for breakfast." He had heard the turkeys that morning and knew
which direction to go to find them.
I rolled out and was quickly dressed and ready.

When near the turkey haunt Uncle Kit took a quill from his pocket and
by a peculiar noise on the quill called the turkeys up near to him, then
took aim at one, fired and killed it.
"Now Willie," he said, "do you think you can do that to-morrow
morning?"
I told him that I thought if I could get close enough, and the turkeys
would stand right still, I believed I could fetch one. And I desired to
know if it was certain that there would be turkeys where we were to
camp that night.
"Oh, yes;" said he, "thar'll be plenty of 'em for some days yit."
Early the next morning Uncle Kit called me as usual, and said, "Git up
now, an' see what you can do for a turkey breakfast."
Instantly I was on my feet, Uncle Kit showed me the direction to go,
loaned me his turkey-call quill, which, by the way, he had been
teaching me how to use as we rode the day before.
I shouldered my rifle and had not gone far when I heard the turkeys, up
the river. Then I took the quill and started my turkey tune. Directly a
big old gobbler came strutting towards me and I called him up as near
to me as he would come, for I wanted to make sure of him.
Uncle Kit had told me about the "buck-ague" and I
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