"We're bound to risk something, and it's not likely that Indians are anywhere near." They slipped from the cabin, leaving the other three still sound asleep, and stepped noiselessly among the trees.

The first pale gray bar that heralded the dawn was just showing in the cast.
"Thar they are," said Tom Ross, pointing at the dozen dark blots on the high bough.
"We'll take good aim, and when I say 'fire!' we'll both pull trigger," said Henry.
He picked out a huge bird near the end of the line, but he noticed when he drew the bead that a second turkey just behind the first was directly in his line of fire.

The fact aroused his ambition to kill both with one bullet.

It was not a mere desire to slaughter or to display marksmanship, but they needed the extra turkey for food.
"Are you ready, Tom ?" he asked.

"Then fire." They pulled triggers, there were two sharp reports terribly loud to both under the circumstances, and three of the biggest and fattest of the turkeys fell heavily to the ground, while the rest flapped their wings, and with frightened gobbles flew away.
Henry was about to rush forward, but Silent Tom held him back.
"Don't show yourself, Henry! Don't show yourself!" he cried in tense tones.
"Why, what's the matter ?" asked the boy in surprise.
"Don't you see that three turkeys fell, and we are only two to shoot?
An Injun is layin' 'roun' here some whar, an' he drawed a bead on one uv them turkeys at the same time we did." Henry laughed and put away Tom's detaining hand.
"There's no Indian about," he said.