Apr 16, 2016 4 min read

We were sitting around discussing difficulties faced in various hunting situations when my friend, Dave, spoke up.

“You will never convince me that there are turkeys running around the woods.” he said. “I have been in the woods before daylight every day this week, and I haven’t seen a feather let alone a beard.”

Someone asked, “What about the gobbling sound heard in the morning? Surely you heard the sounds of a mature bird flying down from the roost and calling his harem together?”

“Yes,” he responded, “but I don’t believe that sound is made by a turkey. I think there is a strange small bug hiding under the leaves covering the forest floor that makes that sound. You hear it but you never see it.”

We all laughed because the statement came from a person who once spotted a flock of buzzards in a tree and tried to call them in. So much for his hunting prowess and target identification.

However, you must give him credit for getting up early and getting to his stand before daylight. More than once, he was found sound asleep while on the stand.

He was probably dreaming of 30-pound gobblers, but I understand his thinking. There were times I felt there wasn’t a turkey within five miles of my calling.

Then, there was the time I was hunting near Avella with John Dino. As usual, we were a bit late getting to our destination and the sunlight was streaking through the trees.

We tried to be quiet but moved fast as we headed to our previously chosen stands from where we would call. As we scurried through the woods, we heard gobblers to our right and one below us on the left.

Then we heard wings beating as a bird dropped to the ground. Yes, we were late. I headed to a piece of cover nearby. John moved quickly to another spot 40 yards ahead.

All was quiet for a bit when I heard John calling. We agreed to sit for a half hour, so I was surprised to hear the call. It was strange – scrack, tap, scrack.

My ears were bombarded with the worst imitation of a hen I ever suffered through. I kept thinking John should stop that terrible calling,

To my astonishment, a hen stepped out in front of me calling out “scrack, tap, scrack!” It might have been the worst calling I ever heard, but it was coming from a real bird, not John.

Good thing I saw the hen before I saw John or I would have put my foot in my mouth. I don’t know if she ever found the tune or not but it proves all hens don’t sound alike and not every sound coming from a real bird meets human standards.

Sometimes turkey hunting can be easy, but there are always times when the Toms suffer from lock jaw. I have watched lone Toms walk by without raising their heads in curiosity as I called. Other days, they came running like their tails were on fire.

One time long ago, I bagged a gobbler and was trying to call a bird for my wife, Eileen. Now that is calling under pressure.

One mistake and you cost the wife a turkey.

Things were on my side that day. Not only did a gobbler come but five mature gobblers came in at the same time. She had her choice of the long beards and the one she shot is still the largest either she or I ever bagged.

Sometimes a bird will come to the call quietly. They can be sneaky devils that can see a tick on a deer 100 yards away.

But it is the talking bird making his way to you that is really what turkey hunting is all about. As it comes closer stopping now and then to strut and gobble, it adds real spice to the hunt.

The closer it gets, the more dry my mouth becomes. When using a hand held call, my fingers get stiff and calling becomes more and more difficult.

The turkey takes a step and it stops, the head bobbing like a red cobra. He is looking for that fair maiden or you. To the maiden, he will come; to you, he can disappear in a flash. But isn’t that what makes the hunt special?

George H. Block writes a Sunday Outdoors column for the Observer-Reporter.com