The Perfect Situation

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May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. Romans 15:13

March 2020

A blanket of darkness surrounded me as I began my three quarter of a mile journey northward through the river swamp. My plan was to be very near the south bank of the slough when he gobbled the first time. The skinny slough, somewhere in the neighborhood of 4 acres in size, started at the confluence of a drainage ditch and a woods road and ran winding to the east-southeast for close to 300 yards. Lining the edge and scattered throughout the slough were gigantic bald cypress, and the high ridge on the north bank was a beautiful flat occupied by a variety of mature bottomland hardwood species heavy to oak. 

The turkey had been roosting over the water on the northwest end of the slough for the last several days, and had found satisfaction in following his hens and a loud-mouthed jake through the oak flat toward the river to the east a few minutes after fly down each day. The position where I planned to break day would put me hopefully around 200 yards from the turkey. 

During our meeting the morning prior, I found a way to cross to his side of the slough undetected, but the maneuver would have to be made while everybody was still firmly in the tree. I did not want to press past this position before the turkey gobbled, because if he was further up the slough today than he had been previously then the game would be over before it even got started.  

In true river bottom turkey fashion he was a particularly early riser. About a half mile into my trek and while still very dark in the woods the turkey gobbled. I heard the gobble mid-stride and without stopping knew that he was very near the same spot that he had been roosting for the last couple of days. With two hundred yards remaining on my journey he started gobbling more frequently and between steps I heard what sounded like another turkey nearby. I stopped to listen. On cue, the second turkey, who, to my knowledge, had not been in earshot the day before, gobbled and sounded to be just to the east of my target destination on the north bank of the slough. I pushed forward with more quiet urgency. 

As I closed the distance, the two turkeys began to gobble back and forth answering one another. I knew immediately that if I could get where I was planning to go it would put me at a point, although closer to the second gobbler, very near directly between the two. The two gobbling back and forth answering one another told me that they would likely have some differences to sort out very soon after fly down. The perfect situation. 

I found the “back door” crossing route that I discovered the previous morning on the southeast end of the slough and picked my way through the sparse saplings in the slough bed that I used for cover in the still very ill-lit understory. When I reached the flat on the north bank of the slough, both turkeys continued to gobble at regular intervals. I found a good tree that would provide me with some cover, a shot out to the edge of the slough in several places, as well as several shooting lanes out into the open flat to my 12 o’clock. My position put the turkey roosted over the slough at about the 9:30 mark on the clock face and around 150 yards and the other turkey at about 2:30 and around 80 yards, both still in the tree. A direct line between the two would put the gobbler(s) within 30 yards of my position. Both turkeys continued to gobble and answer one another regularly. 

As I finished my final setup preparations, I realized that I could hear the drumming of the nearer turkey as he was strutting on the limb. As both turkeys continued to gobble, I realized that the nearer turkey was facing away from my position. I elected to make an abrupt light cluck and soft three-note tree yelp in response to his next gobble and did so. He did not answer my call, but the sound of his next gobble told clearly he had turned on the limb and was facing my way, exactly what I was after. 

The two continued to gobble for a while longer and eventually grew quiet. I knew they were likely looking for safe places to land. I began to hear the wingbeats of turkeys leaving their roost from the 9:30 group first which naturally gathered much of my attention. I could see many of them gliding as they pitched into the clean, open ground along the edge of the slough- ground that had spent more time flooded than dry and was absent of any vegetation to speak of. Their landing pad put them all within one hundred yards but behind some brush from my position. 

Even though I never heard a wingbeat, the 2:30 group very obviously followed suit because the next sound I heard from them was a jake yelp instantly revealing that the group was on the ground. A gobble from the boss of the group indicated that they had more or less jumped from their roost and were probably eighty yards from my position blocked by a screen of pale green understory vegetation. After fly down, both groups had maintained a direction from my position consistent with where they had been on the roost. 

The turkey in the edge of the slough bed continued to gobble more frequently than did the other. This went on for three or four minutes, and I began to see his hens emerging from the slough bed making their move out into the oak flat. Their course was taking them directly across in front of me and toward the other gobbler. I watched as six hens and a jake filed through the big hardwoods at a range of thirty-five yards or so, but the gobbler never appeared. 

With his next gobble he had moved further around to my left, now at about my 8 o’clock on the original clockface and was much closer. I trained my eyes in the direction of his gobble and immediately picked him up at a distance of around thirty steps and behind a screen of switch cane that stood between the edge of the slough bed and my position. I eased my gun around and trained the sights on the patch of switch cane. The turkey was strutting back and forth behind the patch of switch cane from my view but would not come far enough right or left to give me a clear shot. This was the fourth time that I had this particular gobbler in shotgun range to this point in the season. I could see him but not well enough for a clean shot. The turkey continued to gobble.

With my attention firmly affixed on the turkey down my gun barrel, I had nearly forgotten about the other gobbler who had not gobbled in probably three or four minutes. Every hair on my body stood up when I heard the next sound he made. Pftooooooommm! 

To my immediate right, I heard, no, I FELT the drumming of the other gobbler. I peeled my eyes as far towards my three o’clock as I physically could without moving my head. There he was in plain sight at twenty-one steps in a full strut, facing dead away from me, his fan blocking his eyes from my hide. All at once and without hesitation, I moved my gun around to my right and got on the other turkey. The clean ground at the base of my tree permitted me to do so without making a sound. The move was made before the gobbler had enough time to spin in strut and expose his keen eyes to my position. I just knew another turkey standing nearby had surely seen my hasty move, and I was right. A jake stood just to the right of the gobbler and definitely saw me make the move, but for some reason quickly discounted what he had witnessed and started back feeding. 

The gobbler, still facing away from me, stretched his neck, turned slightly, and went back into strut and took two steps which put him behind a huge yellow poplar between he and I. The big poplar kept me blocked for a 10 or 15 second eternity until he finally stepped back out to the left of the tree, broadside to my position, neck stretched surveying his surroundings. My sights aligned and rested firmly on his neck, safety off. Checkmate. Thank you Lord so much for allowing me to see it one more time!

As I sat quietly for a few minutes admiring this gem surrendered by the river bottom, I began hearing drumming from the other gobbler in a nearby tree who had, yet again, cheated fate and prevailed unscathed. The thought came to mind- had I saved him from a beating by the intruder? Or was it his foe who ultimately saved him from having his book slammed shut? The jury may still be out, but the case has been dismissed.