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While John had suggested that we don’t call too much (doesn’t every guide say that!), I did my best to resist the urge, but hearing the birds sound like they were going to mill on away from us, I couldn’t help myself. Soon I was kicking out so many cutts and yelps from my Primos Power Crystal and Woodhaven Stinger diaphragm that if a hen could cuss, that must have been exactly what I was doing. And one of the real hens didn’t like it.

She cutt right back and in short order, had the band marching our way. I eased my gun to my knee and watched as four turkeys strolled into the open a mere 15 yards away. But there wasn’t a beard in sight. Off to my right, about 32 steps off and partially hidden by a large, leaning tree, one of the longbeards stood motionless. Meanwhile, the lead hen, spotting our jake decoy in the field behind me (or maybe even making me out) got nervous, putted and led the bunch back the way they came. They soon slid into the open on the far side of the field, now gathered as two gobblers and three hens, making me wonder had I somehow misidentified one of the earlier five as a hen instead of a tom. John S. backed my observation up. The four in front of me had all been hens. I felt a little better.

Anyway, the gang did two laps around the field never getting any closer than 150 yards of our setup before disappearing for good.

Back in camp, we learned that the Green Lantern, whom I had the pleasure of being in camp with when he killed his first big bow buck back in December, had also struck paydirt, by spending his first tag on a nice jake. Eric (forgive me dude, I can’t remember your last name) with Brothers also had filled a tag. Despite seeing some birds, though, we were the only hunters who had even heard a gobble.

That afternoon, we settle d back in for a potential roost-bound ambush, but as luck would have it, the birds came back in from the complete opposite direction. Instead, I sat fidgeting at the sight of ticks and red bugs seemingly dancing across my legs and boots. This despite the fact that I had sprayed down with enough Permanone to render myself and future generations of Howletts completely sterile.

Check out Day 2 of our Oklahoma hunt tomorrow.

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