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.
[Illustration: JORDAN'S TURKEY CALL]
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."
[Illustration: I soon saw the old gobbler stealing slowly
through the brush]
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.