So, my Mrs. is under the weather. That put me front and center getting the boy out the door for school this morning. Knowing I wouldn't be in the woods til close to 6:30 AND my back is not good..... I opted to spend a morning in a blind with my 100+ year old "farmer's gun" (you can read about that in my post below "Iver Johnson Champion in .44XL chambering"). It was really the only location I could still get into undetected at that time of morning.
It was raining a pretty hard drizzle when I got there. But first series on the box call and multiple birds gobbled from the field to my right. I laid into them and within minutes, a pair of jakes came through te fencerow on a tractor path and straight to my decoy....and hung out strutting and gobbling for about an hour. All the while a longbeard was gobbling his nutz off in that other field. Finally the longbeard broke his back-and-forth and came to the tractor path for a look. I could see his head, neck and fan for a couple minutes. Then he was out of sight. Right about then the jakes folded up shop and went right over to where the longbeard was. Probably 200 gobbles in one hour between the 3 birds. Then nothing more.
9:30 I hear a faint gobble probably 300+ yards behind me and WAAAAAY down over a hill. Hit him with a Jordan yelper (the first longbeard was eating that UP) and nothing. So I laid into him with a Madhatter 4-track slate in canarywood. He loved it !!! He kept loving it for the next 45 minutes. Finally I heard a spit & drum to my left. There was the blood red head. If I had my usual 20 gauge, I'd have capped him right there at about 40 yards. But, knowing I was limited to about a 20 yard maximum shot...... the wait was on. I swear he did EVERYTHING he could do to drag his feet closing the distance. Strut....feed....stand and look...... all the stuff that makes a guy's heart pound. Finally he mad a decisive turn and started to walk toward the point I figured I'd bust one at him. I had the little gun on my Y-stick and and extra round between my left ring and pinkie fingers, just in case. He stopped walking briefly.....I had the bead at the base of his neck and the hammer back. When the hammer fell, he dropped as though I had shot him with a 3 1/2" 10 gauge.
At 23 of my steps, he was a whisker farther that the 20 yards I was hoping to be my outer limit. But all's well that ends abruptly and authoritatively well.
The down side......if there can be one to such a freakin' AWESOME hunt..... He was a total PIG for a PA bird, but had the weakest spurs I've ever seen on a mature Eastern bird. Guess my next tag is designated for team upgrade.
The 100+ year old gun and its victim......
The empty laying beside the beard......
