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Started by Farmboy27, July 06, 2016, 05:25:05 PM
Quote from: guesswho on July 06, 2016, 08:53:44 PMI've been turkey hunting right at 50 years. I can honestly say that I've never missed. However, I have been known to fire a warning shot here and there. The one that instantly comes to mind was way back when I was 11 or twelve. We hunted a South Central Florida WMA. Back then you could camp where ever you wanted to. We always camped at an area known as Burnt Hammock. My Dad woke me up and said its time to get up. I had killed one the previous weekend and convinced myself I'd just stay in my sleeping bag and kill one later. My Dad told me as he was zipping the tent back up that you can't kill them in bed. Naturally when the sun started breaking I wished I had went. I laid there for 30 minutes and thought I need a donut. I unzipped the tent and one gobbled, I know now he probably gobbled at the loud zipper sound. We used to hunt without camo but by now we had moved on up. I threw my oversized camo pants and shirt on and grabbed my home made face mask my Mom made for me out of a pants leg and elastic. Grabbed my gun and stepped outside. A short time later I made a racket on a old box call, a Roger Latham I think. He gobbled again and I knew about where he was. I eased down a sandy pig trail/two track towards him. I've always been pretty good at Bobcat'n aka sneak and peek. About 60 yards from the tent there was a curve, I eased and peeked around the curve and he was walking right down the pig trail towards me. I remember thinking "yeah you can't kill them in bed". I was going to show my Dad I can! Should have been a slam dunk. I got maybe 15-20 yards off the pig trail and just waited. Even forgot to put my mask on because that was something new to us. Anyway it wasn't long and he was right in front of me. As soon as he cleared the curve he picked me up and stopped dead in his tracks. Perfect, head up, standing still. I have know idea what happened but I decided to fire a warning shot to give him a fair chance. Then I decided to fire two more warning shots back to back in case the first one didn't scare him enough. I'm not sure but I think it was the second two warning shots that finally convinced him it was time to go. Then before I could reload and shoot him fair and square he was gone. No feathers, no nothing! I still have that gun and my Mom uses it quite a bit. A Remington 11-48 in a 16 gauge. Every time I see it I think of the time I fired three warning shots to keep from proving my Dad wrong. And for the record I have fired numerous warning shots with that old gun, and all my other guns. But I have yet to miss one. Missing would just suck!