I finally got my last bird. Anytime a bird has been a pain in my butt a few times I name him. This one got named Mr. Moby Dck. He weighed 23 lbs, 10.5" and a 3.5" beards, 1 1/16" and 7/8" spurs. He is my first multi bearded bird.
Mr. Moby has been a thorn in my butt. I accidently set my blind up 30 yards from him while he was on roost. I had him walk away from me a few times. Monday, him and 3 of his buddies gobbled their head off all morning but would never cross a little creek and get on the property I could hunt. It was tearing me up listening them gobble to everything and only about 50 yards away from me. Then that afternoon when I was going after him in a 150 acre cut corn field. There is no sneaking around except on the back side of the field where it joins a set of woods.
Yesterday, I decided I would hunt all day and would not leave the blind until I either got him or it got dark which ever happened first. Mr. Moby only gobbled once at 8:30 and few minutes later I hear a dog barking in the same area. I thought that would force him over to me. Wrong. It got 83 degrees and with no breeze what so ever in that blind I was sweating my butt off.
About 5:30 pm, I was thinking I was a dumb butt for sitting in a blind all day only to see 3 hens and 2 jakes. Then at 5:45, Mr. Moby and his buddies gobble. Then a hen lets out a few yelps. YES finally some action. The hens come out into the field and the gobblers stay on the other side of the little creek gobbling their heads off. I was thinking great they are going to do the same thing as the day before. Then I hear wings flapping and I knew they were on my side. I see two gobblers come into the field and head towards the hens but neither one of them were Mr. Moby. Another gobbler comes out but it ain't him either. Then finally in full strut and the evening light shining on him glowing in the field there is Mr. Moby.
I have a strutting jake and 2 hen decoys out. Mr. Moby starts towards the real hens so I gave him some fighting purrs and here he comes. Any time he got out of strut or turned from me I would throw out some more fighting purrs and he would turn back to me. I was thinking don't blow this, don't blow this. As soon as he got 40 yards from me and raised his head just a little I pulled the trigger and got my reward. I guess I could of watched him whoop my jakes butt but after sitting there all day I wasn't taking any chances on some going wrong.
Adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience.
Ralph Waldo Emerson