It was very cold at that early hour, and Paul shivered, but he soon forgot it in the ardor of the chase.
"Slip along softer nor a cat, Paul," said Jim.

"We don't want to give old Mr.Gobbler any warnin' that his time hez come.

Thar, hear him?
The tarnal fool! He's jest bound to show us where he is." The mellow call arose again, very clear and distinct in the silent air, and as they approached the edge of the hickory grove, Jim pointed upward.
"See him thar on the limb," he said, "the big feller with the feathers all shinin' an' glistenin'?
That's the gobbler, an' the littler ones with the gray feathers are the hens.

I'm goin' to take the gobbler.

He may be old, but he's so fat he's bound to be tender; an' s'pose, Paul, you take that hen next to him.