I was all set up by 8 AM and waiting for my guest to appear. With the gun across my legs, the call in my hand, and the camera at my side, I was hoping for success on all fronts.
I had the funky chicken decoy right in front of me about ten yards out. He then puffed up and started for the decoy. I slowly laid the call down and ever so slowly pulled my legs up. Then again, I very slowly moved the gun up and laid it across my knees with the butt of the gun in my shoulder. This was perfect and I said to myself, “just keep coming toward me because I have a nice surprise for you.”
flextone Funky Chicken Turkey Decoy
|Click on the decoy or the link above and buy from Bass Pro. This is the decoy to have that sucks those big toms in and makes them really mad. They just want to kick sand in his face.|
Slowly he turned to his right and slowly walked away. I had a shot, that I did not take. It was a little long, but I am shooting #5 shot with 3.5 inch shells and a full choke. I have done this before, and it is because I wanted him closer and it appeared that was what was happening. My readers, write to me and tell me your experience.
Quickly he was gone and strolling away at about a 30 degree angle. What was interesting was the jake did not join him, but kept walking away. I am going to get that sucker come fall or next spring. He has spoiled two shots for me and he deserves to be in the oven. When I cook him, I will have friends over and we will toast his demise with some fine champagne.
Anyway, now I am sitting with nothing in site except the squirrels in the trees behind me and facing the sun. It was getting warm, but patience is a virtue and this time I had some for a change.
Off to my left came four birds doing their thing of scratching and pecking at the ground. As they came closer it was three jakes and a descent size tom. Ok, he is not the biggest boy in the woods, but meat is meat. I gave some clucks and the tom stuck out his neck and gave a good gobble. Not bad we will take him if he comes closer.
I wanted pictures of the group, but again there was to be NO movement. My bottom was getting a little sore and my back ached, but I still did not move. No pain, no gain was the saying of the day right now. A couple of clucks and they adjusted their line of travel straight toward the funky chicken.
The boy would spread his fan and start to strut, but then would fold it up and continue his advance. He definetely had the funky chicken in his line of sight. He would spread the fan take a few steps, let it fold back up and repeat the process. Off to my left was a tree about 5 feet away.
The boy pulled to the front of the pack with the three jakes lagging behind. I pulled the gun into my shoulder and waited till the tree was between me and the bird. At that point, I adjusted the gun and my legs for him to step into my line of sight and the gun’s barrel. When he stepped into my line of sight, kaboom. He folded up like a sack of potatoes. We will have potatoes with him when he is cooked.
|Nice young tom and he will make a couple of great meals with friends. He was really big in the breast.|
He was flopping around like I have seen them do so many times and with a 22 cal. Ruger I gave him the finishing touch in the head to let him bleed out. The reason for this is to avoid having blood run down my back as I picked him up by the legs and thrown him over my shoulder.
What was really interesting was the fact that when I came out of the hiding place the jakes did not take off. They seemed really confused and did not flee until I gave him the final plunk in the head to bleed him out. I have seen jakes hang around before one time, and this is really unusual.
Picking him up, he was really heavy and I had judged the size by the smaller fan he displayed. When I got him home he yielded two nice slabs of breast meat that headed to the freezer. The thighs and legs I give to a friend that I hunt with. He is from the mountains of West Virginia, and has an appetite for all kinds of game and parts.
This was a great hunt.
Good hunting, good fishing, and good luck, Hank