Arkie John
Active member
About three or four weeks ago, I found myself, before daylight, preparing a makeshift blind at the convergence of two well-traveled deer trails. However, in an instant, my priorities changed from deer to turkey. I'm flexible, what the hay?
As the first of first light began to make its way above the horizon, all hell broke loose from the tops of the nearby 80-foot pines. Birds were yelping, cackling, yelping and cutting to beat Dixie! I just listened--and, still under the cover of darkness, beefed up my blind a little to withstand the scrutiny of 9-power, color vision. It was good that I did. I had inadvertently set up right in a pile of roosted turkeys and I was ready for a show! I got out my old home-made walnut box call and chalked up.
Soon enough, with the welcoming light, I watched,with great anticipation, fifteen birds, at least, glide down and light, just over the little hill, to within 50 yards of me. I had now been talking to them for ten minutes, and we were becoming acquainted
, so they knew exactly where the "new kid on the block" was located by launch time. As soon as they hit the ground, I turned up the heat with constant yelping and cutting, mimicking them as best I could.
It wasn't long before I saw the boss hen stroll into view, with head and neck outstretched...walking, pausing, looking, walking, standing, scanning the woods for movement. Then I saw another and another as they came up from the back side of the hill. I thought, "Well, you've got yourself into a mess of hen turkeys right here the Friday before Thanksgiving, here's your chance to provide the best table fare for the event." My bow was at the ready but I was not, because what I saw next was a complete surprise.
In the low light of dawn I became aware of a grey-white dot back in the dark, then as the light receded, I could see what I thought was a fan! Sure enough, here came a huge gobbler in full strut! I had never seen such an event in the fall. My priorities were again changed--this time from the hen to the gobbler. He slowly worked his way counterclockwise to the boss hen, coming to within 25 yards of me. The trouble was that he was standing behind a few stick-ups, the density of which I was unsure, because of the lack of good light. I chose to wait him out.
Well, this went on for another 15 minutes before the hen tired of the game and headed back over the hill from where she had first left the roost. Of course, the gobbler followed as if in tow and my semi-decent shot evaporated in the moment. At their disappearance over the rise, I sat back, removed the headnet and let out a sigh, grinnin' like a jackass eatin' briars. This turkey is bad on the nerves donchaknow.
I didn't take any game that day, and we didn't have a wild turkey on the table for Thanksgiving for the first time in ten years, but I was the beneficiary of a very special encounter. All this took place within 500 yards of the Hilltop. I love Arkansas! There's no place like it. Thanks for comin' along. <><
aj
As the first of first light began to make its way above the horizon, all hell broke loose from the tops of the nearby 80-foot pines. Birds were yelping, cackling, yelping and cutting to beat Dixie! I just listened--and, still under the cover of darkness, beefed up my blind a little to withstand the scrutiny of 9-power, color vision. It was good that I did. I had inadvertently set up right in a pile of roosted turkeys and I was ready for a show! I got out my old home-made walnut box call and chalked up.
Soon enough, with the welcoming light, I watched,with great anticipation, fifteen birds, at least, glide down and light, just over the little hill, to within 50 yards of me. I had now been talking to them for ten minutes, and we were becoming acquainted
, so they knew exactly where the "new kid on the block" was located by launch time. As soon as they hit the ground, I turned up the heat with constant yelping and cutting, mimicking them as best I could.It wasn't long before I saw the boss hen stroll into view, with head and neck outstretched...walking, pausing, looking, walking, standing, scanning the woods for movement. Then I saw another and another as they came up from the back side of the hill. I thought, "Well, you've got yourself into a mess of hen turkeys right here the Friday before Thanksgiving, here's your chance to provide the best table fare for the event." My bow was at the ready but I was not, because what I saw next was a complete surprise.
In the low light of dawn I became aware of a grey-white dot back in the dark, then as the light receded, I could see what I thought was a fan! Sure enough, here came a huge gobbler in full strut! I had never seen such an event in the fall. My priorities were again changed--this time from the hen to the gobbler. He slowly worked his way counterclockwise to the boss hen, coming to within 25 yards of me. The trouble was that he was standing behind a few stick-ups, the density of which I was unsure, because of the lack of good light. I chose to wait him out.
Well, this went on for another 15 minutes before the hen tired of the game and headed back over the hill from where she had first left the roost. Of course, the gobbler followed as if in tow and my semi-decent shot evaporated in the moment. At their disappearance over the rise, I sat back, removed the headnet and let out a sigh, grinnin' like a jackass eatin' briars. This turkey is bad on the nerves donchaknow.
I didn't take any game that day, and we didn't have a wild turkey on the table for Thanksgiving for the first time in ten years, but I was the beneficiary of a very special encounter. All this took place within 500 yards of the Hilltop. I love Arkansas! There's no place like it. Thanks for comin' along. <><
aj
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