Short Story of Hunt:
This ageless bird must have become the
cock of the walk once the bosses had
taken the stairway to heaven, for surely
he'd never been boss enough to whup
Funny name is Tommy Slick
No Guns, but he got that handle due
to being slick legged. My first gobbler
I've taken without spurs. You could
see where they should have came in but
he definitely was never gonna have any.
Fairly quick hunt, unlike
most; saw, went and conquered is the
story line. Using woodsmanship and the
lay of the land, I was able to get within
35 yards of him, unbeknownst to me.
I was so close that he surprised me
when, after him hearing me "feed"
in the leaves, he strutted and fanned
right in front of me. Brush prevented
a shot at that time, so I remained motionless.
He did his stuff for a bit and then
went out of sight.
Quietly as possible, I
found a sorry setup, but best available,
got my knife out and cut away some brush
and called softly. Feeding clucks on
a MadHatter Calls 3-Track player with
"The Lucky Lady" peg, given
to me by my good friend Dave Constantine,
along with some soft yelps from a Pine
Box made and given as a gift from another
buddro of the tenth, Jerry "Dad"
White of Dad's Custom Box Calls, sent
sweet music to the ears of this beautiful
A gobble let me know he
was interested and continued soft talk
was returned with the magnificent drum
of the wild turkey. Love that stuff.
I let things get real quiet for a while.
After an hour of no calling and no sounds
from my quarry, I tired of the sorry
I chanced a creep, more
like a crawl, up the wood line to a
small knoll just 10 yards away. I hoped
to glimpse him feeding in the field
or give it up if he was gone. Lady Luck
had kept him interested I suppose for
he was still out there.
Leaf scratchin' and a
few beats of a wing got his attention
again and he slowly and warily came
my way. 'Twas a good setup this time,
with a little cover in and around me,
I was invisible 100 percent. Mossy Oak
camo glasses hid my beggin' eyes and
ol' No Gun's never saw it coming when
I yelped on a Steve Kinder diaphragm
to stretch his neck high and mighty.
Fortune from the Good
Lord above, good friends like Dave and
Dad, and a rare invite from a cuz-n-law
to hunt his place near Op-U-Lik-it allowed
this fine pretty boy die fine at 35
yards from my gun. 18.6 lbs and 9 inch
rope. Hope-U-Lik-It cuz I did!