I've been turkey hunting for four years now; and for all four years I swear I have been after this bird! I hunt on my uncle's land which is 3/4 open hilly pasture. But, in that 1/4 wooded area is a very high ridge. Knowing where the turkeys are roosting is not the hard problem, it is calling to them and keeping them on the property.
As an inexpienced turkey hunter/caller, this has been tough. It always seems that those birds would always pitch down on the other side of the ridge or over the fence and very difficult to call them back over. Game and Day Over!
But, this year was a little different. As I set my gobble and hen decoy up in the dark, I heard King roar and his sub. answer him back. After, three good gobbles passed, I used my gobbler call. Both fired right back at me. I was excited. Prepared to wait until fly-donw something curious happened. The boss hen was roosted with the boys! Now what do I do? So, I let out a few soft yelps. She not only answered right back, she one upped me, calling a little harder, longer, and louder. Soon she was adding cutts. I was thinking to myself, do I keep challengeing her, or do I keep quite and not over call? Do I scare them off, or while the boys follow the boss hen? I had not ever read about this situation. I decided to keep challenging boss lady. I had been using a slate for soft calling, but traded to a box. I bearly let out my first yelp and she pitched out. Right over my head! It startled me at first, but gained my bearings; and let out a few yelps to let the boys know where I was. Then, I subord. gobbler pitched out on the other side of the hill! Oh NO!! Thankfully, King flew down on top of the hill but on my side. And, he was coming! He kept coming straight at me then bore a little left. I shifted with him as he did. Then he came back right. I watched for his next move. He peered at the decoys and moved slightly to the left behind a tree. At that time I decided I was going to take the shot. His head came out and down he went, hard, breaking a tailfeather. The "King" of the hill was mine! My Trophy!
While I was tagging it a yearling came over the hill, and stopped right where we were. It milled around smelling the turkey, sniffing to no end for about five minutes; no more than eight feet away.