Reprinted from the Sioux City Journal.
It’s moments like this that make me love turkey hunting.
The response to my yelps on the diaphragm call was loud and raucous. It was the guttural cough of a wild turkey’s gobble. Then another followed immediately after.
I crouched down behind a tree, caught a little off guard.
Up to now it had simply been a walk through the woods, yelping occasionally with nothing answering other than the occasional caw of a crow.
But that’s how it is sometimes.
I had carefully been making my way between the trees across a small gully to a cleared pastureland dotted with a few trees. I had hunted through this spot many, many times in past years but never encountered a tom turkey here. I thought it odd because this looked like a perfect spot.
Then, I thought I caught a glimpse of a fan. It was just the tips of the feathers of a fanned-out tom. So I yelped and got an immediate response.
It caught me way off guard. My camo mask dangled around my neck and my fancy, folding turkey hunting chair was slung over my back. I shucked the chair, pulled up my mask and yelped again. Gobble, Gobble.
It was two toms, and they were very close now.
I saw them strut into view, their big beards dragging the grass. I couldn’t help but to yelp again, just to watch them gobble.
I was rewarded with a double gobble from each bird.
The largest was on the left, and I focused on him as I gave a loud “Putt” with the call. He raised his head in alarm, and I put the bead of the shotgun sight at the base of his neck and pulled the trigger. [Read more…]