JAKES AND HENS
PART TWO
My first morning turkey hunting in Texas started off
before dawn with me being taken to a small-elevated covered blind, by Clay Pope
my outfitter. He gave me some
instructions and quietly drove back to camp, it didn’t take long for my eyes to
get use to the darkness and only a few minutes after Clay had left I spotted
two white tail deer. I let every thing
quieten down after my arrival for ten minutes before I started my first string
of calls, I kept them very low key and very subtle, that way I could increase
the volume and the excitement with in the calls as the morning progressed. As the darkness receded and was replaced by
the dawn of a new day I hadn’t seen or heard a single turkey. I changed from a pot and peg type of call to
a box call, which is considerable louder, and worked up the excitement level in
the calls to replicate the clucking and cutting of an excited hen, but still no
response.
It wasn’t until a couple of hours had gone by that I
spotted a small group of turkeys, they were probably 250 yards away and had
just emerged from some thick cover, I had my box call in my hand so I started
calling, I got no reaction at all. I
changed to a mouth call and still nothing, finally I changed to the pot and peg
type of call, and instantly got their attention. Their heads shot up as they worked out the direction the call was
coming from, I was just purring and clucking on the call, but so quietly you
would not have thought that they could of possibly heard it, but they did. Moments later they were coming my way, and
they weren’t hanging round, as they approached I looked at them through my
binoculars and I could see that they were all Jakes. As a male turkey ages he grows what is called a beard from the centre
of his chest, the beard is a tuft of long hair like feathers that get longer
with age. A Jake is a male bird of
about one year old, he will have a beard of just a few inches long, while a Tom
a bird of two or more years old may have a beard of ten or more inches. I decided I wouldn’t shoot one of these
Jakes, even if the opportunity arose, instead I would wait for a Tom.
The five Jakes in a matter of a couple of minutes
had covered all the ground that separated us, and were now that close that I could
no longer see them out of the windows of the blind, they were almost directly
beneath me. I had stopped calling when
they were about twenty yards away, and now I sat silently for fear of scaring
them away with the slightest of movement.
After a minute or two and not having found the elusive hen they started
to drift away, when they reappeared from under my blind I allowed them to move
off some twenty yards before I started to quietly call again. The first note the call made stopped them
dead in their tracks, two of them started to strut, fanning their tails,
lowering their wing tips and puffing them selves up, trying to impress the
unseen hen, one of them gobbled, which started them all off and I was treated
to an ear splitting display of gobbling by all of them. They worked their way back under the blind
searching for the source of the hen calls, and again I let them drift away
again before calling them back, this carried on for a quarter of an hour before
they lost interest and slowly drifted back into the thick cover. I learned more about turkey calling in those
few short minutes than in the six months I had spent watching DVD’s and reading
books, there is no substitute for experience.
Later that morning I started walking back to where
Clay had told me to meet him, I moved slowly and called every now and then,
listening for a male turkey to gobble back at me, but the woods were
silent. Clay arrived in his pickup and
we set off for camp, as we rounded a corner there on the side of the track were
another five jakes, they turned and disappeared into the tree line, Clay
stopped the truck and I jumped out. I
set up on the opposite side of the track with my back to a small bush to break
up my outline, I loaded the pump action 12 gauge, and with it lying over my
legs I started calling using the pot and peg.
The turkeys had disappeared into the trees around fifty yards down the
track to my right, I thought if they reappear in the same area I would have the
opportunity to raise the gun and call them in to range, but like most best laid
plans it wasn’t to be. On hearing my
call they must have doubled back inside the tree line and when they emerged
they were only about five to six yards away directly opposite me on the other
side of the track, I froze, they were to close for me to even blink let a lone
raise the gun. They looked me over but
I sat absolutely motionless waiting for them to make the next move, they
crossed the track diagonally to my right, this made shooting for a right handed
shooter impossible with out moving my whole body round, so I sat tight hoping
for another opportunity. As they got
into the long grass on my side of the road I lost sight of them, thinking I
might have a chance to move I swivelled round to give my self a chance of a shot,
but I was seen as they were almost on top of me, literally the other side of
the bush I was sitting under. They
ducked down and ran for the tree line behind me, passing with in a few feet of
where I sat. I was pleased with my
calling success; I just needed a better chance in the shooting department.
After a little while I heard Clays pickup
heading my way again, I unloaded the gun and jumped in, and started to relate
my story, we hadn’t gone more than half a mile when Clay stopped the truck and
grabbed his binoculars, there on an old stock fence sat a turkey, and on the
ground beneath him were at least three more.
We watched as they milled around for a minute before disappearing
through the fence and into a particularly thick bit of cover, Clay said there’s
water down there, they will be going for a drink. I left the truck loaded up again and made my way to the stock
fence, finding a place I could shoot from I sat down, and started to call,
instantly two turkeys gobbled back at me.
The water was in a natural hollow surrounded by thick vegetation and
shrubs, and that is where the turkeys were, I continued to call and the
gobbling got louder, then I could see the heads of three turkeys coming up out
of the hollow towards me, I raised the gun and continued to call. As the birds crested the top of the hollow
they stopped to look around, I levelled the gun and made a single call, there
heads went up and I picked my target and shot, two birds turned and ran one remained,
his wings flapped involuntary, I had my first turkey. It was now 1.30 pm I had been out since before dawn with out food
or a drink, but none of this mattered now I was ecstatic, I picked up my bird
and marvelled at its beauty, I had shot a Jake as there wasn’t a Tom in the
group, but that really didn’t matter now. Clay arrived shortly after and took
the pictures of me with my trophy. We
loaded up the pickup and headed back to camp, no stops this time.
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