Finally, I called from the road and heard a distant gobble. He wouldn't answer again--I couldn't even be sure that he was on my side of the road--but as is often the case with birds late in the year, I had to hit the woods. Then, as I worked up the hill, I heard not one but two toms. They were out in front of me a few hundred yards across a field and after a while began to answer every call I made. They weren't moving my way, however, so I circled around the hill to try to get closer. My next calls brought double-gobbles from both so I set up quickly. An hour later, they still wouldn't budge. I again moved up the hill carefully and now was on the same level as the birds. They hammered my next calls and my gun was up and ready. Yet another hour passed before they finally started to work my way. I could hear the gobbles getting closer, but still couldn't see them when I heard walking to my left. I rolled my eyes in that direction to see three jakes standing 10 feet away looking for a hen. I let them walk past, started calling again and came to the realization that I suddenly had six gobblers in front of me.