still the turkeys came nearer. the rabbit could see that the fat old ones were getting ahead of the others, and that here and there a young or weak turkey had to drop into the river and swim, because his wings were tired. they got so near that he could see the queer little tufts of wiry feathers which the gobblers wear hanging from their breast, and could see the swaying scarlet wattles under their beaks. he called again to the ground hog, and getting no answer, poked him three times with his head.