My step father, Bob, and I, began our trek slightly after five this morning. We set down on a log to await what would transpire as dawn approached. Prior to six, the gobbler sounded off in the same area he gobbled from on the first day. We moved into position to about a hundred yards from his roosting tree. All seemed well! I began calling with some soft tree yelps.
Scarlet Tanager (Male)
The big bird left the roost, and silence became the norm. I told Bob to not move anything, but his eyes. A short time later I heard a muffled gobble on the back side of this ridge. Apparently, the hens were roosted at this point, and the gobbler knew it. I didn’t hear any hen calls.
We, later, crept to the ridge line, and called to no avail. Suddenly, the sound of a shot exploded in the field a short distance away. I believe the landowner’s son was hunting at the field’s edge with decoys.
Coltsfoot in bloom.
We began a slow tour around the woodlands trying to muster a gobble. Just prior to eight o’clock a gobbler mouthed-off way across a big hollow, possibly in posted land. After we discussed some options, Bob wanted to go back on top, and call, and I elected to cross the road, and hollow, to listen, and look for morels.
Coltsfoot going to seed.
I began the ascend the hill only to hear some equipment noise. I adjusted my plans and moved towards the posted property. I wondered if I could lure the gobbler to me…if he was still present.
I called for forty minutes when I could hear some hen answering my calls. Suddenly, a loud gobble occurred somewhere behind me. I slowly turned around, and soon spotted a turkey about fifty yards away. It disappeared, and moments later a bird flushed to my left. The bird was close, but I was looking into the sun, and couldn’t identify the gender. Was this bird the gobbler?
A Fisher with a turkey egg.
I still occasionally heard hen chatter, and shortly even their talk quieted. Below me I spotted movement, and I identified the mammal as a Fisher with a turkey egg in the mouth. I managed to take a few photos of the animal.
Shortly before ten o’clock, I heard sharp alarm putts, and the sound of a turkey in flush. A gobbler sailed over me. His beard could be viewed. What had scared the turkey? Was the fisher after him? Another hunter?
I elected to head off, and was surprised a gas truck was parked at a close gas well. That was the sound I had heard earlier , and now they had moved to this side of the hill. Now I understood why the hen stopped calling, for she was in that direction.
I headed off after ten, for work needed done at home.
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