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Tale of Turkey Proudfoot

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<h2>XVI</h2><h3>DRUMMING ON A LOG</h3> Turkey Proudfoot was not always content to stay in the farmyard. Although Farmer Green fed him well, he liked to range over the fields in search of extra tidbits, such as grain, seeds and insects. Sometimes he wandered even as far as the pasture. And one day he strayed into the edge of the woods beyond the pasture fence. There he discovered a beech tree. And Turkey Proudfoot was enjoying the nuts that he found on the ground beneath it when all at once a thump-thump-thump startled him. He raised his head and listened. The thumping sound came faster and faster, then died away in a rumble. "Ho! It's only Johnnie Green drumming. Probably his mother wouldn't let him drum near the farmhouse, so he came to the woods where she couldn't hear him." Turkey Proudfoot paid no more heed to the drumming, which rolled through the woods now and then. He went on with his search for beechnuts. But at last a thought popped into his head. "Johnnie Green must be eating most of the time, or he'd drum oftener," Turkey Proudfoot muttered. "He must have found a beech tree." Soon Turkey Proudfoot decided to join Johnnie Green. He hoped that beechnuts were more plentiful beneath Johnnie's tree. So Turkey Proudfoot picked his way slowly through the underbrush. And guided by the thump-thump-thump which once in a while boomed upon his ears, at last Turkey Proudfoot came into a little clearing. There on a log sat a speckly, feathered, short-necked gentleman with a tail spread in much the fashion in which Turkey Proudfoot so often carried his own. Turkey Proudfoot drew back behind a bush, out of sight. "I'll show that bird a tail that is a tail," he muttered to himself. So he spread his tail and then stepped proudly forth. A dry twig snapped beneath his weight. At that sound the stranger on the log turned his head quickly. Just for an instant there was an eager look on his face. But when he beheld Turkey Proudfoot it changed to one of disappointment. "Who are you?" the stranger asked in none too pleasant a tone. "I'm Turkey Proudfoot," said the ruler of the farmyard. "I live down the hill at Farmer Green's place." "Then you'd better go home where you belong," said the stranger on the log. "I was expecting some one. I've been drumming for a friend. And when I heard you step on that dry twig I thought she'd come. I had my tail spread in her honor." "Drum again!" Turkey Proudfoot ordered. "Call your friend at once and I'll show her a tail that is a tail. Yours is no bigger than Mrs. Green's fan." The stranger made no move to obey. He appeared somewhat sulky. "What's your name?" Turkey Proudfoot demanded. "I'm Mr. Grouse," the stranger snapped out. "I supposed everybody in Pleasant Valley knew me. My drumming is famous." "Indeed!" said Turkey Proudfoot. "I thought it was Johnnie Green making that noise." "No wonder!" Mr. Grouse sniffed. "You're only a barnyard fowl. You can't be expected to know anything about us game birds." <hr class="chapter" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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