A successful youth gobbler hunt

For the past several years, younger hunters have been given an early shot to hunt spring gobblers on the Saturday ahead of the general turkey season opener. This has resulted in many youngsters developing a passion for the sport.

Last weekend, I had the good fortune to accompany a junior hunter, Aaron Burnside, on his second spring turkey hunt. We set out at five o'clock in pursuit of a lone gobbler that for the last several mornings had been roosting alone on the edge of the mountain overlooking the Driftwood Branch.

We were nearly to the mountain top when the first gobbler sounded, off to our left, in the bottom of a nearby hollow. I told Aaron that if our boy were not where he had been all week, this gobbler would be our backup.

We pressed on and were almost breaking onto the top bench when a gobbler sounded off to our right. He was the bird we were after.

As quietly as we could, we circled behind him in the noisy crunchy leaves. By the time we set up, the gobbler was steadily sounding off from the roost. I called sporadically. Within a few minutes, I could tell that he was on the ground, but he was moving away. Soon, he was about 200 yards away.

We moved about 80 yards closer to an oak flat near the edge of the mountain. The leaves were scratched up from turkeys feasting on last fall's bountiful crop of acorns. Ten feet behind the white oak where we were set up was a large dirt area where hens had been regularly dusting themselves.

I began scratching in the leaves, while clucking, purring, and yelping softly with my box call to imitate a feeding hen. It soon appeared that the gobbler was convinced; he was closing the distance between us.

Just when it seemed that he would be within range, he hung up and began strutting. We waited and listened to his low-pitched drum.

After about 10 minutes we could hear the loud crunch of leaves again, but the next time he gobbled he was farther away. He had broken his strut not to come closer, but to pull out. Soon the crunching faded away into the woods.

One option was to use the terrain to circle him and try to call him in from the other direction. But first I switched to a mouth call and called aggressively for a couple minutes.

Fortunately, the gobbler responded and was soon retracing his steps back toward us. His gobbles were reverberating through my body, causing my heart to race. I could only imagine how excited Aaron must be.

There was no mistaking his blue head about 70 yards away. He was coming straight for us, zig-zagging through the woods. We were shielded from his peering eyes by two large oak trees.

At about 35 yards, he began angling to the right. As he stepped out from behind an oak, Aaron was ready. The gobbler stepped onto a rotten log and stretched out his neck, looking for the hen.

As he stood like a sentry with his beard dangling, Aaron's shotgun boomed. But instead of flopping, the gobbler took to the air. To our amazement, though, the bird began to glide down into the valley, it plummeted to the ground.

Now in his second year of hunting, he had turkey hunted a total of less than three hours and taken two gobblers.

A close inspection revealed that the gobbler had been hit in the neck and head by the 12- gauge pattern. It was a beauty, weighing in at 19 pounds and sporting a nine-inch beard. Aaron was one proud hunter. I have a feeling that this won't be the last gobbler.