In this edition, we continue the three-part series on silent gobblers, first printed in the May/June 2000 issue of Turkey Call Magazine. We’ll take a look at the reasons why the stage of the breeding season makes gobblers clam up. Whether experienced or novice, these longbeard lessons can help you find success this season.
I almost didn’t hear the turkey gobble, the sound obscured by my jangling keys. I paused before turning the lock. Standing frozen for a moment, I listened. Shaking it off to wishful thinking, I opened the back hatch to my old Blazer. While I was shrugging off my vest, I heard it again, but this time it wasn’t wishful thinking.
Pinpointing the gobble, I knew the bird was in a food plot less than 150 yards behind retired Turkey Call Editor Gene Smith’s house.
Grabbing my gear, I ran back toward the food plot, set up and called. The bird gobbled back four times, but went silent after a hen started yelping from the food plot. It was time to move. I followed a trail that looped through the woods so I could come up on the back side of the opening without being seen. When I got to the head of the trail I saw the bird in full strut about 40 yards away, but Grandma Smith’s trailer was only 50 yards farther. I tried to set up and call the bird back, but he headed around a brush pile trailing the hen and I lost him.
The next morning, I built a blind between some big pines on the property line so I could intersect any birds coming into the back of the chuffa plot. I set out three decoys; two hens and a jake.
Well before light, I heard a single, faint gobble in the tall pines behind me, but nothing more. I called occasionally with a slate, but nothing answered. When the gobbler wouldn’t answer any calls, I took my cue. If the turkeys were in a quiet mood, I would be, too. After about an hour, I heard something to my left. I slowly swiveled my head and saw a hen looking out over the food plot. I gripped my 11/87 and got ready. The hen walked silently into the food plot, past the decoys, around the end of a brush pile and out of sight. I raised the gun to my shoulder and swiveled to the left, training it on the edge of the woods, waiting for a gobbler to step out. Fifteen minutes ticked by, with nothing else following the hen.
Then I heard a sound behind me, back up the property line to my right. It was a gigantic hen and she was staring at me from 10 yards away. I had been caught. I deftly purred on the slate behind the cover of the blind, calming her down enough so she ignored me and walked on into the food plot.
Not knowing which way to face, I sat the gun on my lap and waited. Several minutes later I heard a slight rustle. I was afraid to look and had my fears confirmed when I heard the unmistakable ffffft….dooooooom of a gobbler going into strut. Shifting my head slightly I watched him as he broke strut and walked toward the jake decoy. Moving the gun below the cover of the blind, I couldn’t get the gun up without getting caught. I decided to go for it, snatching the gun to my shoulder, fired and missed the fleeing turkey.
The bird took off like a rocket—straight up clawing for altitude and the safety of the trees behind me. I swung up and pounded him with a Remington Duplex load of 4×6 shot. Taking the load in his head, neck, and wing, he dropped like a stone.
Several years and turkeys later, I look back and find similarities between that hunt and others where I have faced silent gobblers. On that hunt and others during the height of breeding season, I have learned what old gobblers know… they don’t have to gobble to attract hens. They just have to show up where the girls hang out and simply strut around in virtual silence.
You’ve probably seen it time and again, when a gobbler gets within sight of a hen—either live or a decoy—something flips their gobble switch to the off position. It makes sense. Gobbling is for long-range work, while strutting and drumming fits close-range courtship. If it is the period of the breeding season before hens are laying eggs or sitting on the nest full-time, gobblers are probably near them and switched into their close-range courtship mode. That definitely has a dulling effect on gobbling activity, and makes for some tough hunting.
Discounting the exceptions to any rule, most toms are content to strut quietly with their hens instead of telling every hungry critter within hearing what they’re up to. But, what is a hunter to do under these circumstances?
In-Season Scouting
Here’s where scouting pays off. Find the areas the hens spend their mornings feeding and get there before they arrive. If the gobblers pick that day to get lock-jaw, then so be it. They’ll still investigate a hen’s yelp, even if they won’t gobble back.
Another version of the silent gobbler is when a bird gobbles frequently from the roost, only to fly down, gobble once or twice and go the other way. Many times, one or more hens has gone to the tom, then departed going the other direction. If the hen is following her instincts to breed with a dominant tom and pass along her genes, she will try and lure the tom away from the mouthy hen you’re mimicking.
In the hierarchy of a local hen flock, you can bet there are a lot more sub-dominant hens than dominant. This game of odds means that most hens looking for gobblers will jealously sneak away from your hen calls than will approach them. Put in other terms, if you were a guy looking for a date, would you turn down a personal invitation, or leave to chat on the telephone with another girl. Guess where the gobbler is going?
Reverse psychology
If you’ve ever heard the phrase, “say the most with the least,” well, it certainly applies to calling turkeys in some situations. Spend a few days in succession trying to shoot the same gobbler by hammering him senseless with the same rendition of rude-and-raspy yelping and cutting and you might be ready to try something different.
Want to try something radical? Move in on the roosted tom, set up and keep quiet. Let the gobbler do his thing, fly down and move off. Use your ears and follow the bird’s natural travel pattern. If you can track his progress by his gobbling, or his escort’s yelps, get up and follow at a distance. Ultimately, you are trying to learn where these birds are likely to go to feed.
Just like fall hunting, finding a preferred food source is a good bet when trying to catch up with quiet turkeys. Look for open areas where both food and a lack of predator-hiding cover exists, then look for tracks, feathers and droppings. A spot in the shade makes waiting for action comfortable and it helps you stay hidden. Put this mental barb in your quiver and you may get on target to killing this tough bird.
A double word of caution. Don’t stalk a turkey’s calling to sneak within range for a shot. It is dangerous for you or anyone else hunting the area. The second caution is that your footsteps in the leaves sound a lot like a walking turkey. Use some stealth and be ready to drop into shooting position. A gobbler will often come back to investigate the sound of footsteps.
Match the Hatch
The fly fisherman’s phrase to “match the hatch” may never catch on with turkey hunters, but it still applies. If you are whipping flies to and fro, it means to simulate the what the trout are eating at that very moment. Maybe it would be a better fit for turkey hunters if it was termed matching the pre-hatch… eggs that is. Before a hen starts sitting on her full clutch of eggs full-time, she will often spend her day waiting for a suitor while she dines on the local fare.
Bath, Anyone?
If you are having a hard time locating a food source, all is not lost. Walk dirt roads in your hunting area to find dusting areas. These basketball sized, sandy depressions mark where hens and gobblers wallow in the dirt to rid themselves of parasites. They’ll often visit these communal baths almost daily, so lying in wait may put you in shooting range sooner or later.
Strut Zones
Strut zones are a good bet as well. If you find a silent gobbler strutting at a certain time of the day, come back the next day and get there ahead of him. If the first time you saw the beast, yelped at him, then he proceeded to ignore you or go the other way, learn a lesson. Good advice bears repeating—get there before he does the next day. If you have to call to the bird, wait until he’s well within gun range, shoot him and then yelp your lungs out. It’ll ease your conscience and everyone can assume your calling prowess down at the local coffee shop. (If you thought fishermen were the biggest liars, meet me and the rest of the gang at the Edgefield Hardees next April.)
Gaze into Looking Glass
Dirty Harry fans all remember the line “Sometimes a man’s just got to know his limitations.” Clint Eastwood’s words of wisdom apply to new callers, especially if they’re trying to nail a tough, silent tom. If you’ve looked into the mirror and realized that your calling skill lack some polish, don’t worry, you’re still in the hunt. We all have to start somewhere, so it’s nothing to be shy about.
If what you just read looks like experience talking, you’re right. I learned several years ago the “get real” calling tactic that works wonders on lock-jawed longbeards, or any other turkey, for that matter.
On one occasion, I was practicing my calling in front of a true friend and turkey hunting buddy, and he told me to “Get real. Man, you better keep that call in your pocket if you ever want to kill a turkey.” Later finding limited success—and more calling proficiency—thankfully I graduated to the “say the most with the least” school by the next season. Back in the day, I regularly tutored aspiring Grand National Turkey Calling Champions and taught novice turkey hunters how to spin the grandest tales. All kidding aside, there is some validity to the idea that a subtle approach to killing tough turkeys works whether you are a novice—who should limit their calling—or a veteran who knows better.
Never Quit
With all of the turkey call advertisements in this magazine (Turkey Call Magazine) it is easy to characterize turkey hunting as a calling sport. I’ll be the first to admit that I get a thrill when a gobbler gets vocal and calling abilities work their intended magic. There have been volumes written about the near-tactical maneuvers a hunter makes to get into the best position, as well. The part that hasn’t seen much print has been how luck figures into the equation. I’m not talking about blind luck, but the kind of luck you make for yourself. Luck that comes through opportunity meeting preparation is the best kind to have on your side.
My first Merriam’s gobbler is a great example of predetermined luck. I had hunted the Black Hills of Wyoming for several days, and even had a gobbler closing the distance just before fly-up on the last day of the hunt. I roosted that bird and three others by nightfall. Since we had a plane to meet, we had decided to call it quits, unless we roosted a bird that evening. Before leaving that night, I crawled onto a grassy knoll and set out two decoys for the next morning’s short hunt.
A front blew in that night and brought strong winds with it. As I eased onto the knoll the next morning, I cut a couple of sticks to peg the tails of the decoys to keep them from spinning in the wind. I had the forethought to put on my facemask and gloves, and kept my shotgun by my side while adjusting the decoys. Without a single peep, three gobblers sailed onto the knoll and landed 30 yards away as light was just breaking. After several days hard walking and calling, I wasn’t about to sneer at this gift. I did the only sensible thing—I picked out a longbeard and shot him. Preparation meets opportunity.
When you face a tough gobbler this spring, put some of these ideas into practice, find the birds, and take full advantage by savoring every moment in the woods.