It was a great hunt. I didn't hear anything on the roost. I had made up my mind to go to a completely different area several miles away. I made one last stop and hit the call. GOBBBBLLLBBBLLBBBBLLLEEE.

The rascal was down in a deep hole. There were 3-4 other birds just over the line that were doing their thing. I got really tight and could hear him drummingbut he wouldn't show. In the meanwhile one of the birds that had been over the line started responding. I slid down the hill a bit on the edge of a creek to get between the two. The first bird got henned up and shut his mouth.

The 2nd bird was still hitting good so I called a good bit louder even though I was under 100 from the 1st. I slipped out of the creek bottom and set up in the cutover. The cut stuff is more like skidder trails through small timber. I leaned against a small sapling that was leaned over facing the bird. Within minutes a hen walked up about 10 steps away. She started clucking hard and pulled him in the clear are 21 steps. BOOM! The old 870 with a new red dot scope and 3" Nitros did the trick.