In the Sunk Lands — page 196: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

IN THE SUNK LANDS. 181 to a halt and glancing around. ‘‘ Now well git some dry sticks an’ leaves an’ break off some o’ the limbs o’ that old sycamore lyin’ yere, an’ have a rousin’ old fire.’ ‘Gobble, gobble, gobble!” came out of the darkness. “A turkey!” I Bred ‘““He must have got separated from the rest.”’ ‘An’ he'll never see ‘em agin,” said Sam- my dryly. ‘Ef you'll build the fire, Pl git him, I don’t b’lieve they’ll hear my rifle.” He dropped on his hands and knees and crawled off in the darkness, while I ran my fingers over the ground and gathered sufficient sticks and dead leaves to start the fire. As I struck the match the report of Sammy’s rifle rang out. “That's the second time the turkeys have been accommodating enough to serve us with alate supper,” said I, as he came out of the gloom with the fowl slung over his shoulder. Sammy promptly einige and cleaned it, and soon the brown meat was roasting over the red hot coals on the end of Sammy’s ramrod, Gomichboo gS) (E(0)