AN OPENING weekend gobbler had wandered down a pine ridge, out of range and ignoring my decoys, when he first had the chance to make a beeline at them. He gobbled at everything, though, including the usual assortment of yelps and clucks. This early in the year, my educated guess was he’d flocked-up with hens I either hadn’t noticed, or that he regularly bumped into hens nearby and was in a hurry to meet them. He lingered close by but out of sight, gobbling at crows, owls, tweety birds, and a distant truck horn on the highway. Desperate for a change in luck, I threw a kee-kee run cadence at him. Right on cue, a boss hen responded, topping the ridge in front of me within moments, her 20-hen entourage…
