You must first ascertain where the gobblers are to be found, and then be on the ground before there is the least sign of daybreak to select a place where you can sit hidden and in comfort. If satisfied that gobblers are in the vicinity, wait until dawn approaches, and if then you do not hear them, hoot like the barred owl. If there is an old gobbler within hearing, nine times out of ten he will gobble when the owl hoots; but if you get no response, "owl" again, or give a low cluck; the old gobbler may be on his roost within sight of you. If still no response, cluck louder, and repeat at intervals, adding a few short, spirited yelps; if you fail, move quickly a half or quarter mile away and call loudly with a cluck and yelp or two. Proceed in this manner until you have traversed the range of your proposed hunt. In this way I have encountered several old gobblers in a morning's tramp, while there was not one within hearing of the point first selected.
If turkeys have begun gobbling at dawn, you must choose a place to call from. My choice is in front of a tree a little larger than one's body, facing the turkey. If possible have your back to a thicket with open ground in front, or you may prefer to get behind a log or stump, or in a fallen treetop. Do not make a blind, for the obstruction will hide the game which is as apt to approach from one direction as another; generally the unexpected way. If you sit out in an open place by a tree, and stick up two or three short bushes in front, he will never see you until near enough for you to shoot.
If the old gobbler is in the tree before you take your position, do not approach nearer than one hundred to one hundred and fifty yards of him; he may possibly see you or he may fly behind you, or alight at your side when you call, and run away before you can shoot. This may look like a small matter to consider, but you will find it amounts to much in dealing with old gobblers, as I have learned from experience. I have had them fly right over my head, so close that I could have touched them with my gun barrel, or alight at my side and run away in a twinkling. One flew so near my brother once as to flip his hat brim with its wing. The most remarkable instance I ever knew occurred to a Mr. Daughty in Alabama. He was calling a turkey that was gobbling in a tall pine, and finding the call would not bring him down, Mr. Daughty took off his old brown felt hat and gave it a flop or two over his knees. Before he had time to think the gobbler was upon him, and he had to drop his gun and ward it off with his hands. He told me the gobbler had stretched out his feet to alight on his head and frightened him so he never thought of his gun, and was so dazed that the gobbler was gone before he recovered his wits. I once called one down, and as he stretched his legs to alight, he saw me, and with a loud "put-put," checked his flight and shot up like a rocket.
A gobbler will invariably alight within fifty to seventy-five yards of the roosting tree, according to the height they are perched from the ground; therefore one hundred and fifty yards is sufficiently near if your purpose is to call; but if you intend to stalk and shoot him in the tree, you will do best if you show no part of your body; and especially keep the gun barrel out of sight. Many hunters will hide themselves but expose their gun, which is a great mistake, as the bird will surely see the glint of light on the barrel.
It is best, in my opinion, not to call while the gobblers are in the trees, for the reason that the gobbler is expecting the hen to come to him; and it will often happen that as long as you call, so long will he remain in the tree and gobble and strut. I have had gobblers sit on their roost until 9 o'clock and gobble because I kept yelping.
"Cluck," "put," "put," there stands a gobbler, within twenty paces to the left; he has approached from the rear
Having got into position, wait until your nerves are cool. The turkey hunter must have time. Give a low, soothing cluck, then listen carefully, as the turkey may gobble the instant he hears the cluck; perhaps two may answer, but we will confine our attention to one. If a two-year-old bird, he will gobble before he thinks; but we will not allow you such an easy job as a two-year-old. Suppose the gobbler is three years or over—he will straighten up his long neck and listen some moments. He is not sure it was a genuine cluck, but he thinks it was, and duly drops his broad wings, partly spreads his tail, and listens; then, "Vut-v-r-r-o-o-o-m-m-i" comes the booming strut, and "Gil-obble-obble-obble," if he dares this it is to elicit a call or cluck from you to make sure he is not deceived. Now call, "Cluck, cluck, keow, keow, keow," at once he answers "Gil-obble-obble-obble" two or three times in a breath so loud and shrill that it rings out like thunder in the quiet of the forest. Now give a low quaver, "Keow, keow, keow," just audible to him, yet low, then stop right there. He will yell out in a fierce and prolonged rattle that will make the squirrels quit their feeding and spring to the trunk of the tree, and arouse the herons from the margin of the rivers and swamp ponds. Then comes the heavy booming strut, and if he gobbles again, be quiet and let him talk to his heart's content. Unless you yelp or cluck at this time, he becomes more and more nervous and restless, and even dances on the limb. Keep quiet; he will now give a few lusty gobbles, and then there is a short pause. Look out now. There is a rustle in the tree, a flip, flip, and you see his big dark form leave the tree and sail to the ground, giving his broad wings a flop or two to ease up the impetus, and as he strikes the earth a cloud of leaves arise in a circle to settle around him. The royal bird straightens up his matchless form, and while his fine hazel eyes scan the surroundings, you gaze with admiration at his symmetry and beauty. More likely than not he has alighted to one side; if so, beware! Probably, too, if the woods are not very open, you will not see him on the ground and must judge as to his movements.
If there be but one gobbler, wait a few minutes after he is down, as he is listening and watching; then make a few yelps softly, but rapidly, and a cluck or two. He will gobble and strut vehemently. Be sure your cluck is a perfect assembly cluck, or he may take it as an alarm "put." Your cluck, if made at all, should have a reassuring accent, or better not attempt it, depending on the yelp or quaver. The cluck and "put" are so nearly similar in sound to the ear that they are difficult to distinguish; but one is a call note and the other is an alarm, hence it were better to omit both rather than disturb the confidence of the bird you are calling. While the two notes are impossible to describe in words, they can readily be produced by an expert caller with a good instrument. Give the gobbler two or three quick little yelps, "Keow, keow, kee, kee," in a kind of an interrogatory tone; this is sure to make him gobble and strut, or probably to strut only. I prefer that he strut, although the gobble is more exhilarating to one's ear, but does not signify as much. The strut is the better sign every time; it shows he has leisure and passion.