A Rare Double for Day Two

After closing the deal with a lonesome longbeard on opening morning, the 2012 turkey season was off to a fast and exciting start. Chose to spend my second morning with my avid turkey-hunting friend, Greg. His first hunt of the season had been frustrating, so I decided to spread the magic. We met at his camp well before sunrise and discussed some turkey hotspots where birds abound. After contemplating early morning strategies, we headed out on the single track of red clay gravel with nothing but the sound of the truck crunching onward.

We arrived at the first spot and got out of the truck as the woods around us were waking up to a cloudless sunrise. I owled with no response. Waited a few minutes then owled a second time. Same story – again nothing. We weren’t discouraged because, with a number of turkeys under our belt, Greg and I know that finding a loudmouthed longbeard that is willing to run to a call is not the norm with turkey hunting. Patience and perseverance are musts. Greg and I tried a few more of our favorite spots that morning with nothing to show for it. Not a single gobble. It was a beautiful morning with perfect conditions, and we had tried some solid traveling routes and feeding areas. Weren’t quite sure what the hang up was. I had hunted these woods with Greg for a few years now, and we were familiar with the dusting sites, strut zones and other popular hangouts. The area is loaded with turkeys. We headed back to the camp around 9 a.m. to discuss options and regroup.

Greg suggested a prime location limited only by difficult access. I was all in and said “Lets go man we aren’t going to kill one sitting here.” We set out and arrived at the last site of the day, hoping to at least hear one gobble. My eyes settled on a single hen. Processing the scene before me, I thought to myself that she shouldn't be alone out there. As we continued to approach a few more yards, a turkey gobbled in the pasture. He mistook the sounds of our falling footsteps as a hen scratching in the leaves. Donning our facemasks, we eased forward a couple more yards and out before us were two big gobblers strutting with four hens.

Whispered to Greg that it was an uphill battle with henned-up longbeards, but we could give it a try. For content gobblers that are with hens, one strategy is to move in close and hit them with aggressive calling sequences that will challenge the lead hen. On occasion, a series of agitated yelps and cuts will pull both the enraged hen and the gobbler into gun range. Combine the wrath of a hen with a lovesick gobbler and things can happen in a hurry. Located a good spot for Greg to set up, got out my mouth call, and started warming them up with a soft yelp which was answered with a gobble. Observed the toms for a few minutes as they strutted around their hens. Suddenly, I picked up the sounds of two more gobblers in the distance. Yelped again louder and the two birds that we set up on gobbled in unison with the two new arrivals in the distance. We were facing a situation that all turkey hunters dream about: too many turkeys. There were four toms gobbling around us, so we had to decide which birds to set up first.

The value of experience kicked in. For success, it is vital to understand exactly when and where to set up because being where that old gobbler wants to be is half the battle. Sometimes it’s hard to leave a gobbler behind, but, in this case, the decision was easy. The two in our field of view weren’t going to leave their hens so we left them gobbling and hustled closer to the other turkeys. Pausing to listen for a minute, they gobbled about 400 yards away on the neighbor’s property. We clearly understood at this point that a lot of luck was needed. Birds are notorious for shutting up, hanging up, or marching off in the opposite direction for no apparent reason.

Reached into my vest and grabbed an aluminum slate that I knew would be loud and could be heard. Yelped on it once and the birds gobbled. Waited about five minutes and gave them another yelp to pinpoint their location. The responding gobblers sounded a little closer. Told Greg that they were headed our way as long as they didn’t get hung up on a fence, creek, or blown over tree. Greg suggested walking up the road towards a green field where he had seen some turkeys during deer season. I liked this strategy because the birds would be familiar with the field. Reaching the field’s perimeter, I yelped and was answered from about 200 yards out. Time to hunker down. They were coming in. We set up with me facing the direction of the gobblers and Greg looking over the small, green field. With a likely encounter imminent, one of us would get a shot.

Settling in, we were both secretly hoping for a double which is rare with the Eastern subspecies of wild turkeys that we hunt in Mississippi. Put my mouth call back in to give me the option of minimal calling sequences consisting of soft purrs, yelps or whines to sweet talk the gobblers into range. Released a subtle yelp and the turkeys cut me off – a very good sign. Told Greg to get ready. They were only about 100 yards out at this point. Held up on the calling and just listened. Heard one drumming straight down my gun barrel. I continued to observe hoping that they would get in position for Greg. Today was to be his day. The drumming kept getting louder, and I could hear them walking, but still not visible. They were approaching through a small low area in the hardwood bottom. Two long minutes ticked by, and I spotted a big fan with the sun reflecting off headed our way. Nothing better – green fields and blue sky with strutting turkeys and a morning in the company of a good friend equally devoted to this place!

The gobblers came out of cover approximately 30 yards down my gun. I willed them to head left and come out into the field affording Greg a clear shot. At this stage, either tom was mine for the taking. Abruptly the big strutter headed left toward the green field. The sounds of our racing hearts pounding in our ears were mixed with the rustles of the approaching birds. Felt like our nervous energy was shaking the tree we were set up on. The big strutting turkey burst into view about 15 steps out and blew up into a strut.

I didn’t even need to bag the turkey. The thrill of successfully working him in was satisfaction enough. I encouraged Greg to hold back until the other bird broke from cover. He asked how I was planning to shoot facing 45 degrees away from the turkeys. My response ”You just kill yours. I hunt ducks and geese. I will get it done.” The second turkey stepped into the opening trailing the big strutting gobbler, both headed in our direction. I called the shot and Greg folded his tom while the second turkey pitched up and took flight. Spinning I put the bead on his head and touched it off. He folded at about 30 yards while Greg’s downed bird was only 13 steps out. I stepped into the field feeling privileged that God had given me this opportunity to share a beautiful day in the company of a good friend. Two nice turkeys and a rare double. What an opening two days. Looking for that third bird to finish it out.

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