Got me to thinking about the Leatherstocking Tales (James Fenimore Cooper).
Condensed....
The distance between the stump and shooting-stand was one hundred measured yards; a foot more or a foot less being thought an invasion of the right of one of the parties. The negro affixed his own price to every bird, and the terms of the chance; but, when these were once established, he was obliged, by the strict principles of public justice that prevailed in the country, to admit any adventurer who might offer.
The turkey was already fastened at the "mark," hut its body was entirely hid by the surrounding snow, nothing being visible but its red swelling head and its long neck. If the bird was injured by any bullet that struck below the snow, it was to continue the property of its present owner; but if a feather was touched in a visible part, the animal became the prize of the successful adventurer.
Where is the man that can hit a turkeys head at a hundred yards? I was a fool for trying. You neednt make an uproar like a falling pine-tree about it. Show me the man who can do it.
The smoke, the report, and the momentary shock prevented most of the spectators from instantly knowing the result; but Elizabeth, when she saw her champion drop the end of his rifle in the snow and open his mouth in one of its silent laughs, and then proceed very coolly to recharge his piece, knew that he had been successful. The boys rushed to the mark, and lifted the turkey on high, lifeless, and with nothing but the remnant of a head. "Bring in the creatur," said Leather-Stocking, "and put it at the feet of the lady. I was her deputy in the matter, and the bird is her property."
Nathanial Bumppo (ie Leather-Stockings) year 1823
