The first rays of the morning sun had just cleared the trees and began to cast a glow on the field of native warm-season grass as we quickly set up on our second turkey of the morning. Our first attempt had been foiled when our decoys were out-competed by a group of eight hens and a jake, keeping the gobbler just out of gun range. Now, just 20 minutes later, we were repositioned along the edge of the same field trying feverishly to spot the source of intense gobbling. With every series of yelps and clucks, the old tom would quickly remind us that he was patiently awaiting our arrival. All it took was a small dose of the silent treatment to make his patience give way to love and he was headed our way.
