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I had promised Luke I would take him turkey hunting this spring and planed it for the first Sunday of the season.  It was one of the few days we could possibly go because of our busy schedule. The night before did not work out good for taking a four year old turkey hunting.  Bed time came later than it should have to allow for even a half way decent amount of sleep for a pre dawn foray. Morning started late for a turkey hunt.  It was eight before I took a quick drive around the neighborhood looking for hunters vehicles parked around the area which would indicate we had more to compete with than the turkey.  More to worry about in the safety aspect also.  I found none. When I got back Luke was still not out of bed.  This is not what I wanted for his first turkey hunt.  I would have preferred we got out early enough that we would at least have a good chance at hearing a gobble or two.  At this point in the morning I knew we would be lucky to even here a gobble.
	I knew however, Luke would not care, it would still be a big adventure even if all we saw was a couple squirrels.  I got him up and we readied ourselves for our trip.  I was not very optimistic but I did have a plan that just might work. I knew of a little clearing in the forest, a wide place in an old logging trail where the turkey like to strut.  I figured if we set a decoy in the middle of it and started calling something might happen. We stopped at our corral fence and posed for a picture for mom and off we went across our pasture and into the woods.  I reminded Luke about the need to be extra quiet and lifted him over the fence.  We used the bottom of the ditch as our travel route for a few yards before we climbed the hill under the clearing I had planed on using.  I was acting pretty serious about the whole thing although I didn't feel like we stood much of a chance.  After all it was nearly nine when we set the decoy and settled in next to a fallen log and started calling.
I am glad my true confidence level did not rub off on Luke, he was serious and believed we were going to walk out with a turkey on my back.  He whispered his questions and sat perfectly still as I started calling. I started off with some soft yelps on the slate call in case there was a gobbler near by.  My second series of calls was a bit louder and more aggressive after hearing no response from the first series.  I like to use my watch and call only about every ten minutes when I am not working a gobbling bird but I had forgotten my watch on this trip so I was probably not waiting that long between calling series on this setup. It was immediately after my fourth series that the gobbler sounded off out of our view but most likely less than fifty yards away.  My heart raced and I leaned over to Luke and whispered "I think we have a pretty good chance at this one".  Luke gave out a nervous excited giggle.  I gave him a shhh and brought the gun up ready for the gobbler to walk straight in to the clearing in front of us. The seconds ticked by and Luke was frozen and quiet.  I gave one more quiet series of yelps with a mouth call.  The next time he gobbled he was much closer but he was still not in the clearing in front of us.  I peered over the gun barrel in the direction of the latest gobble and then he appeared less than twenty yards away.  I shifted the aim of the gun to my left and put the bead where it needed to be. I waited to pull the trigger, hoping he would continue into the clearing and give us the strutting show, I wanted Luke to see.  He had come in fast but just as fast he	made us out. The gobbler let out a couple putts.  I knew time was up and I had to pull the trigger.  When I did the forearm of the gun came off in my hand as I got up and made sure  the gobbler did not go any farther.  He flopped a few times and it was over.  Luke was still sitting covered in camo netting and waiting further instructions.  He finally got up when I told him to come over.  I'm sure I was more excited than he was. After all, what's the big deal, don't you always get a long beard to come in to your call and gobble for ya at 9:30 IN THE MORNING? The whole hunt barely lasted 45 minutes.  The next time we went out Luke didn't understand when no turkey showed up after 15 minutes of calling. By Tom Morrow In an effort to help all our upstart outdoor writers, we encourage you to write our writers to let them know how you liked their article.  They are also available to answer any questions you may have about this article. tommorrow@sbcglobal.net

Tom Morrow at 16, High Hill Missouri

My first gobbler, code named Denise. Taken near High Hill Missouri with grandpa's 1100. circa 1979 I had been planing this turkey hunt for two years.  Not this specific turkey hunt but a turkey hunt.  I had bought my first diaphragm call with instructional tape two years earlier, read every article I could get my hands on and attended a seminar by Leroy Bramgart.  I was ready! Accept for the fact I was a little dissatisfied with my available shotgun and my lack of a turkey decoy.  I secured a shotgun from my grandpa.  A Remington 1100, 2 3/4", 30" full choke.  My 12 gage was 30" full also but was only a single shot and the chance to go for that "great American big... game... bird.... the wild turkey" made me really want those follow up shots in case I needed them. The decoy was another mater.  I didn't much like the price they were getting for them at the local sporting goods store.  I was determined I could make my own.  How hard could it be?

My best friend thought my decoy was great too, he thought it looked like a mother hen of great magnitude.  He named it after his sister Denise who is a well regarded mother hen of 11 children.  So the name stuck.  We made our plan we would be in the woods opening weekend of the '79 season.  We had a wonderful place to go, courtesy of the Kiefer's.  They had a little recreational property outside High Hill, Missouri with a pond and a trailer and access to acres and acres of Ozark hills to run up and down.

The morning of the hunt I pried Tom out of bed and Kevin had put in his decline of the morning activity the night before so he was allowed to sleep.  Tom and I got in the woods a little late, it was already light enough to see.  We had not scouted, and we were not hearing any gobblers.  Tom picked out a tree to sit under saying this looks like a good place.  I headed off deeper into the forest not knowing Tom was settling down for a little nap as soon as I got out of site.

This area of the Ozark foothills is not unlike a lot of the Ozark hills, it goes on for a long way.  The kind of forest that goes up and down and all looks the same after a while.  Denise and I continued on undaunted.  We topped the short end of a L shaped ridge and that was when we heard the gobbler.  There was no mistaking the sound though I had never heard one in person before.  This one was definitely excited to here from a lady in the neighborhood.  He gobbled nonstop and the lay of the land presented the opportunity to  move in closer, a lot closer.  I had to tell Denise she was going to have to sit this one out.  I dumped Denise and snuck along the inside of the L to the opposite side of the ridge from the gobbler who was still not slowing down on his gobbling.  I was answering him once for every five or so times he would gobble,  he was definitely hot.

I shut up and got into position on my belly and waited for him to top the ridge.  The red periscope was the first thing that appeared and then enough of him that I could make out the big long beard hanging down from his chest.  Of course he was not lined up too well with the bead on my shot gun.  It was then I realized it is kinda hard to adjust your aim when your elbows are anchored to the ground in a bed of dry leaves with a gobbler within twenty yards from you.  One shift of an elbow and I was had.  I shifted and I was had.  I shot, not too well, he was on the run.  I jumped to my feet to shake my fist at him not remembering I had grandpa's 1100 with back up shots.  About that time the gobbler was running getting ready for take off.  I came to my senses and realized I had more shells in my gun my composure was still lacking though because I know that second shot was behind him by at least five feet.  The gobbler got airborne and flew toward me to my side about twenty yards.  He appeared for a split second between two big cedar trees. This time my cheek was on the stock and my aim was true, he got the full load.  The gobbler started loosing altitude fast but he had a lot to loose.  We were on top of a very large steep ridge.  I bounded down the hill in the direction he was going, hopping and sliding my way down the rocky grade.

I finally made it to the bottom, it must have been the bottom because there was a creek there.  I started up the creek looking and hoping I would find my gobbler.  To my surprise he appeared with in my first thirty steps.  He was still alive and lying in the leaves beside a log.  This was the point turkey fever set in.  I had heard how these could be dangerous critters with those vicious long razor sharp spurs and all.  I pulled out my trusty 2" pocket knife and proceeded to sneak up behind him and cut his throat.  This didn't work so well till I finally hung him by his neck and poked the blade between his vertebrae.  It was done.

The trek out of these Ozark hills was not uneventful.  After making my way back to Denise and off through the woods in the direction I thought I should go I realized I left my knife stuck in the tree at the sight of the coup de grace.  I did finally make it out of the woods that day,  packing a 15 pound decoy and a 20 pound turkey.  Denise never did make another hunting trip, poor girl just couldn't take all the excitement.

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