My hunting partner, Brian, and I had been drawn for a special three day wild turkey hunt on the NC. Game Lands and we were excited at the prospects! We arose early at 5 am, put on our cammo, and grabbed a snack, our guns and flashlights and headed into the woods with high expecations. The barred owls were the only things responding to our calls, and they were putting on a concert. It was too early to use a hen yelp or crow call. I headed down river while Brian headed up river.
Picking my way through the dry noisy woods with the aid of my headlamp, I had barely gotten in sight of the river in the pre-dawn darkness when suddenly from a large tree along the bank, a big gobbler struggled to get airborn, beating his powerful wings in the branches. He sailed effortlessly across the river and crashed-landed in the trees lining the opposite bank.
Immediately, I
sat down under a large oak and after putting on my gloves and facenet began softly clucking and yelping on my old slate call. Each time he would respond with a booming gobble or double
-gobble. This went on back and forth for at least half hour and by now it was broad daylight. Suddenly I saw him pitch off the roast and sail toward an old clearing across the river. Remaining in the same location, I called occasionally to which he responded on the ground from the other side. Still he refused to fly back across the river. Already the action was smoking hot! Could I expect more of the same?
Deciding a change of location might even kick things up a notch, I relocated on a slight tree cover hill overlooking the river. It reminded me somewhat of an Indian mound and afforded a good view of the swamp to my left, and the 60 yard stretch of beautiful river bottom hardwoods and grassy green forest floor between me and the river. Another half hour of sitting produced no desirable results, so I decided to stalk slowly from tree to tree along the edge of the swamp, watching ahead for movement. Suddenly, I spotted two gobblers and a hen feeding in the park-like river bottom at approximately 60 yards.
Dropping to my knees, I crawled to some trees and brush in order to hide and observe these turkeys and get a diaphram call in my mouth. In response to soft purrs and clucks, all three stopped feeding and stretched their necks to look, but no gobbles. They went back to feeding. I was a little disappointed they did not break into a full strut display, or come running toward me immediately.
Both were mature gobblers, but one was a true Trophy with a huge white head. We later came to call him "snowball head." I wanted desperately to make a "jelly head" of him with my 12 ga. 3 inch magnum copperplated load of number fours ! He was a wise old tom, 20 plus pounds, with many seasons in his ten inch beard. He knew all too well that a "chick" in tow is worth more than ten hens clucking in the bush! He stayed close to his "chick" and fed just out of range.
However, at my urgent calling, the younger of the two toms began to feed in my direction, and would pause to look when I purred. By now, my heart was pounding and I was beginning to shake. When he went behind a tree, I got on my knees and raised the camoflauge Browning pump, steadying it against a tree.I was in the appropriate posture, because I was praying hard he would keep on coming !
Determining the small opening in front of him to be about 30 yards, I aimed the shotgun there. When I saw the red head emerge, I trained the bead on it and squeezed the trigger. There was an explosive flurry of feathers and flopping!!! Instantly, I ejected the shell and prepared to shoot him again, but that would not be necessary. He was down for good !
Here it was only the first morning of a three day hunt and God had blessed me already with an
eighteen pound bird with a nine inch beard ! I was jubilant and praising Him.
I had the luxury of sitting for hours,soaking up the beauty of His creation,reading my little
New Testament that I always carry in my hunting pack, and meditating on the Truth of His Word. There was abundant wildlife to observe also, such as ducks, crows, hawks, owls, squirrels,piliated woodpeckers,and coyotes.
Later I took Brian to my "honeyhole" and he saw a number of gobblers and hens. He shot a large tom, knocking it down,but before he could get to it the bird jumped up and ran off. A
major disappointment- but he eventually shot a nice jake out of a flock of four on the last morning.
What a hunt ! One for the record book- at least our record book !
Enjoying Gods Great Outdoors, Ted McKinney
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