I know this is a long reply. It is actually a chapter from a book I wrote , but it was a major nerve racking hunt from start to finish.
Danny
One thing that has been of benefit from J Hook Guide Service is the opportunity for Cliff and I to take friends or family members hunting on our property. This chapter will recall the eventful hunts that occurred while hunting with my first cousin, Danny Max.
It was special to hunt with Danny as we have been fairly close most of my adult life. Danny was very close to my late father, Willard Max and is still very close to my mother, Shirley Max. Danny was also a co-worker of my father at the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers office in Memphis.
That said I was equally close to Danny's father, Woodrow Max. Uncle Woodrow was with me when I killed my first turkey. He lived for a good many years after my father died and was very much like a second Daddy to me. Every time I visited Uncle Woodrow, we spent most of our time "talking turkey". He was a very dedicated turkey hunter well into his eighties.
Back in 2011, I invited Danny up to Wayne County to hunt a couple of days on our J Hook property. Danny arrived in the early afternoon and was more than ready to get out in the woods. The weather was quite warm and the sun very high. I knew an excellent spot where we could sit in the shade while having a good chance at getting a bird that afternoon. That excellent spot was sitting in an old barn while watching the back end of a pasture that was being frequented by the turkeys. I should also mention that the wind was blowing very hard.
This was some real "rough" hunting with Danny sitting in his high back sportsman chair while I was laying on my back napping with my turkey vest cushion for a pillow.
Before getting into our relaxing positions for the afternoon, Danny set up his decoys. These weren't just any decoys, they were the cloth silhouette Montana decoys. One was a hen and the other a strutting gobbler. The decoys were set out about twenty five yards directly in front of us.
We had been sitting for only a few minutes when a gust of wind blew the gobbler decoy to the ground, which left the strutting gobbler image pointing straight up. We decided with the hard wind blowing to just leave it lying on the ground.
No more than thirty minutes later two buzzards flew up into the trees just in front of us and were looking almost straight down at this decoy lying on the ground. In just a couple of minutes, one of the buzzards flew to the ground and walked directly to the decoy. After pacing around the decoy for a minute or so, the buzzard suddenly reached down with his beak and grabbed the cloth of the decoy and began to drag it on the ground. Danny and I were both laughing like crazy. Danny commented that it was a shame we didn't have a video camera as this would have made for some great advertisement for Montana decoys. It was a moment I will never forget.
I would like to tell you that Danny went home with a nice gobbler on this hunt, but that was not the case. He did however go home with one less shell in his vest as he missed a nice gobbler that I called up on the second day of his hunt. Sorry Danny, but I have to tell all of what happened.
This past year in 2012, Danny would again make the trip up to hunt with me. This hunt did not present any real comical moments but it is surely one hunt that I could never forget.
We spent the majority of the first day fooling with one call shy gobbler that was using the front end of our neighbors pasture. This land is a turkey haven and though the landowner doesn't normally allow any hunting, he had told Cliff and myself, "If you're good enough to call one to the fence, shoot him". We have gladly taken him up on this offer several times.
Cliff and I had named this call shy gobbler "Scaredy Cat". This two year old tom was scared of his own shadow as well as Jakes, cows and especially turkey calls. He would not go near any of the other turkeys using this field.
In the midday, Danny and I spotted another gobbler with a group of hens. This was no two year old Tom. He was a big boss gobbler and was also very smart, especially since Cliff had shot at him only a couple of days earlier. This turkey was gobbling when we left, but was not at all coming our way. I decided that Danny and I would go after this bird the next morning.
Very early the next morning, Danny and I crossed the road from our camp house and walked across one of our pastures. This put us in the woods adjoining our neighbor's pasture. It was barely light enough to see our way when old "Scaredy Cat" gobbled very close to us. He was just across this pasture and roosted maybe 150 yards away. I had no intention of trying to hunt this gobbler anymore but seconds later just in front of us, a hen cackled. When she did, "Scaredy Cat" cut loose with a loud gobble. I thought maybe we should stay where we were at and that maybe this hen would come into the pasture in front of us and lure this call shy gobbler in for an ambush.
The turkey gobbled on the ground very early and we soon spotted him across the field from us. He was just standing there for a very long time and appeared to be going nowhere. I made a very soft call to him and he stood very still, just looking. He then turned and walked right back into the woods. I thought to myself, why did we waste our time fooling with this gobbler?
I decided that we needed to head toward the back end of the field and as we started across the side of this steep ridge, the trees came alive with hens flying in every direction. We must have spooked at least ten hens from the trees. I was not all that worried over the commotion as I expected the big gobbler to be roosted near the back of the field which was at least 400 yards farther back.
It would turn out that I was right as we began to hear the big Tom gobbling in the very back of the field. We continued to work our way in that direction. We were quite a bit closer when I made my first calls at this gobbler. Each call brought an immediate response. Despite the steady gobbling, this old smart Tom was not getting any closer. I decided that we would have to move much closer to the gobbler to have a chance at him, so Danny and I continued on through the woods bordering this long field.
Almost to the end of this long field, it split in two directions. It turned out the turkey was gobbling in the woods between these two branches of the field. We got set up very close to the gobbler before I made my first calls. The turkey answered each call with enthusiastic gobbles. We just sat and waited and hoped that he would move into the field. This would turn into a long and trying wait. However, the turkey never stopped gobbling so our patience or lack of was not a problem.
Finally, I spotted the gobbler easing into the field, maybe seventy five yards to our left. I said "I" spotted the gobbler: Danny could not see the turkey from where he sat due to a small cedar tree.
The gobbler was very slowly easing our way and I was keeping Danny informed of his progress. Several times, Danny asked if he could move to try and see the turkey. Each time I responded with an emphatic "NO". The gobbler was strutting, drumming and gobbling hard at every noise he heard , which must have been extremely nerve racking for Danny as he still could not see the turkey.
This big gobbler continued to move in our direction until Danny was finally able to see him. I'm sure this was some relief to Danny. Just as we were thinking Danny would be getting a shot at this gobbler, he began to move away from us and farther out into the field just out of range. I made some soft purrs trying to coax the gobbler back in our direction, but it seemed to have no effect. This was very frustrating as we had now spent all morning fooling with this gobbler and this slick old bird was skirting us just out of range. Typical field hunting!
This gobbler had moved maybe 75 to 80 yards away when I decided that I had nothing to lose and cut loose with some very loud fighting purrs on my Rocky Top Slate call. I also was popping very loudly with my Preston Pittman Scratch and Flap simulating two turkeys hitting each other with their wings. This gobbler immediately responded with several booming gobbles, then turned and started back in our direction. He had gotten within about fifty yards of us when he began pacing back and forth while clucking and purring very loud. During this time, his wattles had become fire-engine red. This big Tom was very agitated by this calling. I don't know that I have ever seen more excitement in the turkey woods than the show this big gobbler was giving us.
After some time, it was obvious that this gobbler was as close as he was going to come and I told Danny that he would have to take the shot. I hate to have to say it again, but Danny missed. However instead of running or flying away, the big gobbler very slowly walked away, still very agitated at the fighting purrs and wing popping. I continued with the wing popping and I was nearly able to call this gobbler back to us, but he finally walked away and was gone.
I can't ever recall a more exciting scene while turkey hunting and I am most sure that Danny would say the same. It was getting on up in the morning and I had to meet my son Tony and my youngest grandson Cody around lunch time. We had quite a long walk back to the camp house which included going up a very steep hill on what we refer to as the Rattlesnake Ridge. Due to the fact that Danny is in his late sixties and I had suffered a serious heart attack just a couple of months earlier, climbing this hill was not something we were looking forward to. I told Danny that we could continue out the same way we came in. It would be a longer walk, but we would not have to climb this very large hill. We would end up angling across the side of this very steep hill for most of the way out.
This was when our hunt would get even more nerve racking than before. We were most of the way back, following a deer trail across the side of this very slick hill, when I slipped and fell. I got back to me feet and Danny asked if I was OK. I said yes, I was fine and we continued on our way. We had probably gone about another twenty feet, when I spotted a movement at my feet. I looked down and my right foot was on top of a large Timber Rattler.
I jumped forward off the snake as quickly as humanly possible. I was very much shaken and could not believe the snake had not struck at me. The snake was coiled up and rattling very loud. He was very angry. I told Danny to back up and as he did I shot and killed the snake. Looking back, I probably should have spared the snake as he did me, but that was not the case. Danny appeared to be nearly as shaken as I was and commented that he had some toilet paper in his vest should I be in need. I could not believe that I did not need it.
I pulled the rattles off the snake and we headed back to the camp house. Though Danny again went home empty handed, he was left with a memory that I'm sure will never leave him. Needless to say, the same goes for me.
