by Brian Lovett, T&TH editor
After grabbing some lunch and admiring the gobblers, we returned to the
Kansas spot we'd hunted at flydown. Miller and Shockey were sure the birds wouldn't be far away.
A couple of setups didn't produce any action, so we moved to another area
and tried our luck again. At about 6 p.m., a distant gobble caught our
attention. After miscoursing the bird a couple of times, we finally
determined where he was and gave chase.
That, however, was the tough part. The chase involved crossing the flooded
creek via a slippery log. And even after we navigated that, we had to crawl
the field edge to get a visual on the gobbler.
Crap. He had four hens and a jake with him. Some soft calling produced the expected result: The hens turned and started to walk away.
No matter. Miller had a good feel for where the birds might enter the woods, so off we went. We again belly-crawled through some nasty stuff before getting into position. And when we did, it wasn't long before the breeding flock joined us.
First, a little blue head popped up in the opening to the field. We remained
still, and the hen eventually eased away. Then, I eased to my left and
located the gobbler at 35 yards. After twisting my gun around the tangled
fence, my shot put him down.
It was 7 p.m., and we'd just killed our third Eastern of the day. Of course,
that's a testament to the outstanding turkey population at the E3 Ranch, and the combined skill of Shockey and Miller. I still marvel at both as I look
back on a day I'll likely never repeat.