I talked to one three-note yelping gobbler that wouldn't come. I scouted 16 birds in the rain and wet snow on the no-hunt Sunday that roosted on the other side of posters that night. The next day, two shots over there, right after fly-down time. I worked a family flock, and scolding brood hen ("Get over here you young turkey you!"), and pulled them to within 80 yards in the woods until they drifted off. On the last day, we were 45 yards from a small group of birds (4), that spooked on our approach. We found trails in the wet pasture grass where they'd been feeding, and fresh droppings nearby. With all the acorns, they hadn't been in the fields until then. Until then. Yep, I'm eating my Maine fall turkey tag. I'm okay with that. You can save the condolences though. I'm still in the game.