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Fly Me a River

by Brian Lovett,
Turkey & Turkey Hunting editor

With a Kentucky gobbler down, Joss Grossenbacher, Jeff Shelby and I worked on some cutaways and relived the hunt. That’s when I saw it.

A turkey pitched from the steep bank to our right, sailed across the flooded creek and landed 150 yards from us in the field. And judging from its white head, there was no doubt which turkey it was.

“That’s the other gobbler,” I said, stating the obvious.

With the camera still rolling, Josh and Jeff slipped back into the creek bed and slipped toward the bird. As I watched from the bank, I saw the bird begin to move toward us, too.

A minute later, another shot echoed through the field, and gobbler No. 2 was down. We couldn’t believe our good fortune. I’ve seen several doubles – even some delayed doubles – but I doubt I’ll ever again witness a spooked turkey fly back into the field where his buddy just got killed and then get shot himself.

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