Nashville hunter recounts last week’s harvest
I got up Thursday morning, April 16, before daylight and headed to where I’d roosted a turkey the night before. It was a cold 36 degrees in Nash County. I owl hooted, and the gobbler hammered right where I thought he would be. I set up on the edge and softly yelped to him. He continued to gobble, but he was a long ways off.
I waited about three to four minutes between softly yelping. As it continued getting light, I thought I heard another gobble behind me. I eventually heard it again, but closer this time. It sounded as if this bird was circling around toward the other tom. So I decided to move down the field edge and slip into a grownup path in the woods by a pond. This creates a funnel between the locations of the two birds.
I stopped and scratched in the leaves with my foot as I slowly made my way down into the woods. Suddenly, I heard that all too familiar “putt.” I looked up to see the tom walking away from me at only 10 yards.
Turkey makes fateful mistake
The gobbler walked out of sight, continuing to putt. This set off a bunch of hens following suit. I eased up beside a small tree and softly purred, and again scratched in the leaves. The tom couldn’t stand it, and walked back to me. He was looking all around for me. But it was too late. The red dot was on target, and the Remington 870 Super Mag sent a load of Federal TSS his way. He piled up on the spot.
The hens had flown into the nearby trees and went berserk, yelping loudly. I walked over to inspect my trophy. As the hen continued to yelp, they got the attention of the original tom that I was after. This bird was coming in hot. I picked up the one I’d shot and took him to the field for some photos. As I was snapping these images, the tom behind me was gobbling with every breath.
It was a beautiful, blessed day in the turkey woods.
Neal Collie
Nashville, N.C.
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