CHAPTER XII

ON CALLERS AND CALLING

There are in use by all hunters who still-hunt the turkey, instruments used for imitating the call-notes of this bird; a few lines on these useful implements will not be amiss here.

The box or trough call, the splinter and slate, the leaf call, all have their merits, and can be made to imitate the different notes of the hens and young gobblers. The leaf call is simply a tender leaf from particular trees, held between the lips, and when well executed, the call with it is good. The box call is said to make excellent imitation of the hen call, but I have yet to see one that satisfied me. The box call is made by taking a piece of wood, preferably poplar, or some other soft wood, about four inches long, two inches deep, by one and a quarter thick. Mortise a square hole in this block, leaving the ends one half inch thick, one side one eighth, the other quite thin. The mortise is one and a half inches deep. A piece of slate some four inches long by half an inch wide is drawn across the thin edge of this box in various positions, and one skilled in the use of this call can obtain very good results. The call most in use by the backwoods turkey hunters in the Southern States, and one that causes the death of more turkeys than all other call devices put together, is simply the hollow wing bone from the second joint of a hen turkey, with both ends cut off to allow free passage of air. One end is held with the lips in such a manner that the inside portion of the lips covers the end of the bone. The breath is then drawn in sharply, and when one is skilled in its use the different call-notes of the hen turkey can be produced perfectly. There are several other devices much after this order, but I have never found use for any of them; in fact their defects prompted me to invent a call of my own, which I prefer. First, get the smaller bone from the wing of a wild hen turkey: the radius of the forearm. Hallock says the larger bone, but he is wrong. The bone should be thoroughly cleansed of all its marrow. After cutting off nearly one half inch from each end of the bone, the ends are made quite smooth with a file, all rough surface removed, and the bone finished with fine sandpaper or emery. The round end of this bone is packed and glued into the end of a piece of reed cane joint two inches long and three-eighths in diameter. Then a nice nickel-plated ferrule or thimble is fitted on the cane to prevent splitting, and the sloping end is wrapped with silk. Next, get another joint of cane that the first piece will just fit into and glue them tightly together; then cut off until the right tone is produced. The flat end of the bone is used as the mouth-piece. The end of the bone that is inserted in the cane is wrapped with tissue paper wet with glue and pushed firmly into the cane three quarters of an inch, and care must be taken to make this call air-tight at the joints; when the glue dries, it will be strong, air-tight, and durable. The bands or ferrules are intended to make the instrument doubly strong, as well as to improve its looks. It is a tedious job to make a good call, but when you have one properly made, it will last a great while, and I think this particular call is the best in the world.

There is one objection to the box, slate, or similar calls: they make quite a noise near by but can not be heard any distance. The instrument I make can be heard a half or three quarters of a mile away.

This call is used by taking the flat bone end between the lips and by measured sucking motion the notes are produced. The cluck is produced by placing the tip of the tongue on the end of the mouth-piece, and giving a sudden jerk and suck. This, according to my opinion, is the most natural cluck that was ever made by any instrument, and it can be modulated so as to seduce or alarm at the will of the operator.

It is necessary to practise the use of a caller until proficiency is attained, the same as you would do in playing a flute or violin. Calling, in my opinion, is the most important thing to be considered when in quest of the turkey, and the knowledge of how to do it is difficult to impart to others.

There are four distinct calls of the wild turkey one should become familiar with to become an expert turkey hunter; these are the call of the young hen, the old hen, the young gobbler, and the gobble of the old male bird. The latter is almost impossible to learn, and I have seen but two or three men in my life who could imitate the gobble. The sound is made with the throat, and I know of no way it can be taught. The notes of the hen turkey consist of a variety of quavering sounds such as are given by the domestic fowl, but which require study and practice, with the best devised caller, to imitate. The plain yelp or "_keow-keow_" are the chief notes to learn, and once mastered and employed in concert with the cluck, will usually be all that is necessary in calling turkey, be it a flock of scattered individuals or an old gobbler (in the gobbling season), but it would avail nothing on the latter at any other time. "_Keow-keow-keow_," or "_keow-kee-kee_," "_cut_," "_cut_"--these are the variety of notes, and each has its meaning, however singular that may appear. The turkey has no song, and the notes it employs are either conversational, call, distress, or alarm notes.

Early morning, when they are dropping down from their roost, is the best time to study their language as well as their habits. If you go near a flock of tame turkeys and begin to yelp and cluck, they will reply and keep it up as long as you do, so you can soon learn their language. If the turkeys be wild ones, keep well out of sight, for they will stand no familiarity. I am not, however, a stickler about keeping out of sight when calling. I prefer to sit in front of a tree that is on the side from which the turkey is expected to approach, rather than to get behind it. I sit in front of the tree in such a manner that a turkey with the keenest eye in the world will not identify me, if properly fixed, clothed, and motionless. The explanation of this is that the gobbler is not looking for a person, but for another turkey; and as it can think of but one thing at a time, it sees nothing that does not resemble that which it is in quest of; but if you move, its keen eye will quickly detect you.

The turkeys seem to have no special power of smell, so if the hunter's clothes are gray or drab, he may sit at the base of a tree, and by keeping quiet, the turkey will many times come within ten or twenty feet, and, although looking directly at him, will fail to make him out and walk leisurely away.

I once had a flock of wild turkeys come very near me, and some of them jumped up and stood on the log I was resting my back against; one hen was within three feet of me, and she stood for a few minutes purring and looking me over, finally leaping off. Then a young gobbler came in front and took a good look at me. He seemed to have a suspicion that I was not a stump, for he walked back a little and stopped to meditate. Not being satisfied with his first investigation, he came up again and took a better look; after satisfying himself he walked leisurely away. He looked so quizzically at me that I could scarcely refrain from laughing. At the same time these inquisitive birds were looking me over, my rifle was trained on an immense gobbler within eighty yards strutting in plain view. Upon him my attention was chiefly fastened, and in a few minutes the old fellow came to bag. A dead grass colored suit is not so good for a turkey hunting suit as one gray or brown.

If the game you seek be an old gobbler, and the time spring, you will employ the call fully as much as when calling the scattered brood in fall or winter. I generally use the plain, quaint, easy measured yelp or quaver and cluck of the female; this same call has a hundred variations, but it is not necessary that you employ all of them. The simple "cluck-cluck-cluck" and now and then plain "keow-keow," when properly done, is generally effective. I have called as loud as I could, so as to be heard a mile away, while an old gobbler was standing near enough for me to see the light of his eyes without alarming him. Again I have called very low, just as a test, with the same result. Sometimes the old bird is unusually cautious; then the less calling the better; then, after you have engaged the attention of the turkey so that it will stop and gobble and strut, the less you call him the better, for the reason that in gobbling and strutting it is using all its own persuasive power to draw you to him, thinking you are a hen. Under these conditions so long as you continue to call or reply he will remain and gobble, and insist on your coming to him. But if you have commanded his attention and stop calling and wait, he will make up his mind to come to you, as he has come to the conclusion that the hen is indifferent to his company and is moving away from him; this will excite his anxiety and cause him to make haste toward you.

Under such circumstances, and they occur very often, the hunter will very soon note, after he has quit calling, the gobbler will gobble oftener, more furiously, and strut with greater vigor. This is the time when most turkey hunters make a fatal mistake, for if you call after the gobbler starts toward you, he will stop a while at that point, and go through all the maneuvers he has been worrying you with for some time, march back and forth to his recent stand and give you another hour or two of waiting, or perhaps he will go away to return no more. Do not make this mistake, but keep still, wait, and watch. Let the gobbler do the gobbling and strutting, and you do nothing but keep your eye on your rifle sights and watch for his appearance. When he suddenly stops gobbling and strutting look sharp and keep your gun leveled in the direction from which he is expected, but by no means have your gun in such a position that you will have to move it after the turkey is in sight. Some men have a habit of moving their guns about, although they have their heads and bodies hidden and quiet. They might as well get up and say "hello."

If a gobbler stops, and gobbles and struts in one place some time, while you are calling him, this is good evidence that he will come to you, if you have but patience and keep quiet; nine hunters out of ten, however, take the opposite view of it, and for the lack of good understanding of the turkey, and of patience, get up and go home at the very time when success would have crowned their efforts. Now, if a hen has gone to the gobbler, as will often occur, and they are out of your sight in the brush, you will know this to be the case by the long interval between gobbles; if it be fifteen to twenty minutes, you may be certain a hen is with him.

You cannot always be sure that a cessation of gobbling is for the purpose of attending the hen or of coming to you, but you will soon find out if you wait, as the turkey is sure to strut and gobble near the place after the caress is over; this has been my experience hundreds of times; in fact it is characteristic and habitual, and it rarely happens otherwise. Here is an instance: Two young men accompanied me once to a creek near the margin of a large prairie in Texas to see me call an old gobbler. At the dawn of day the gobbler broke forth into a lively gobbling, when we proceeded to an old fallen pine log to call him. Having waited for him to fly down from his roost, I began the regulation series of calls, clucks, etc. The turkey was a great gobbler and did his share of it, but he would not come immediately to the call. After a while one of the boys remarked that he heard a hen yelping near the gobbler, and then all gobbling ceased, and the boys remarked he had gone off with the hen. I said, "No, he is there yet." This silence lasted fifteen or twenty minutes, while the mosquitoes were covering the faces of the boys; but they were bent on seeing the play out and would squirm and rub off the pests, then listen and look, as they lay prone on the pine straw and peered over the log. Once in a while I would yelp, but no response came until the gobbler's attention to the hen had ceased; he then began to gobble again as vigorously as though nothing had occurred. Then I began calling again, but he would not come to me, and soon another hen came flying and lighted in a tree near him, and a moment or two after flew down to him. This caused another long wait. When through with the second hen there was another long strutting and then another hen paid him a visit. By this time the boys had become impatient, and were anxious to go home; the mosquitoes were biting them severely and their stomachs were craving nourishment; so was mine, but I knew what I was about, and in a low whisper remarked: "Boys, if you can endure it no longer we will go home, but it is hard to have come this far before daylight, six miles, and have such a fine gobbler within our grasp, then give it up and go home without him."

"Oh, well," both said in a whisper, "if you think you will get him, we will stay all day."

"That is all I ask," I replied. "On these terms he goes home with us."

By this time the gobbler had finished his attention to the third hen and was gobbling furiously in the same spot. I began to call again and the gobbler responded lustily. Having given him a few well-meant calls, I put the caller in my pocket. Seeing this move, one of the boys asked me if I was going to give up. "No," I replied, "it is his turn to parley and he will come now if no other hen comes to him, so you fellows keep still as death, but keep a careful watch."

Very soon, after a series of rapid and excited gobbling, all was still. My rifle got into position, and I whispered to the boys to peer over the log, but to keep their heads still, as the gobbler was coming and would soon be in sight. The woods had been burned and the low scrub in our region was black and charred, save small spots that had escaped the fire. I soon saw the white top of the old gobbler's head stealing slowly through the dead brush a hundred yards away, but the boys could not see him until he walked upon a small mound some three feet in height, that brought his whole form above the dead bushes. His feathers were all down, lying close to his body, and his long beard hung low; a noble bird he was. The most thrilling and picturesque object to my eye is the long beard of the turkey; just as the big horns of a buck are to the deer hunter. In a low whisper I asked the boys if they saw him. "Yes, yes," both answered in a trembling whisper. Then the rifle cracked and the bird sprang into the air and fell back dead. The two boys, wild with delight, sprang to their feet and went crashing through the burned underbrush to get hold of the fallen turkey. One of the young men, quite a hunter, remarked: "That beats all the maneuvering with a gobbler I have ever seen and was well worth the long ride to witness." So presenting him with the big twenty-two pound bird, we went home.

As soon as possible select a place to call from. To a novice there is no special rule by which one can at all times be governed in calling old gobblers. Each bird is possessed of some peculiarity different from its neighbor, and all individual variations the hunter must meet with good judgment. When out very early in the morning in the vicinity of turkeys, get some elevated position, a ridge if possible, and, as the dawn is breaking, listen for the gobble. The first sounds one is apt to hear are the hooting of the owls; the next, as the light grows apace, is the note of the cardinal, found in all southern woodlands. As a roseate glow begins to replace the gray dawn, one will hear the "_gil-obble-obble-obble_." It may be within one hundred yards of you or perhaps a mile away. You should wait until the turkey gobbles again to be certain of his direction, then make all haste to him, and get as near as you wish before he flies down from his roost. When within one hundred and fifty yards of the gobbler, stop, and be careful lest he sees you, as his ever watchful eyes look everywhere, especially at things on the ground.

As soon as possible select a place to call from. To a novice an old treetop or log is best, but to me the front of a tree is preferable, with an open space in front that the gobbler may come into to be shot. But whatever the place selected, get into position as soon as possible, and let it always be an attitude that will not cramp you should you have to remain a long time, and where you can have easy action for your arms and gun. That is why I prefer the side of a tree next to the game.

If the gobbler is still gobbling after you have seated yourself, sit quietly until he flies down; that is best. But if you cluck or yelp to him in the tree, let it be but once or twice to attract attention and no more; no matter how much he gobbles, you must keep still until he leaves his roost, and even then wait a few moments for him to gobble or strut, which he is sure to do on reaching the ground, after taking a look around. After this you can give him a cluck or yelp, or several of them, no matter how many, provided they are well delivered. If you are not yet an expert at calling, best make as few calls as possible; for he will surely reply by either gobbling or strutting, or both. Do not be in a hurry, for generally he is in no hurry, but has all day to worry you, and will surely do it if you continue calling after you have said enough. If you desire to get your shot at the gobbler as early as possible, call as little as you can after you have got him interested. If you continue to yelp every time he gobbles, he will stop in one place and gobble anywhere from two to six hours, exhausting all your patience and temper.

In selecting a place to call from, there is one caution that should never be forgotten: never get behind a tree so that you will have to look from one side to point the gun; the turkey is sure to see you and run away before you can shoot.