Bill says complete camouflage from head to toe, and especially face and hands, is most important for hunting the wild gobbler.

After many years of turkey hunting, I've concluded that just about anybody can call better than a real turkey. The way it sounds--if even remotely close--doesn't seem to make a whole lot of difference, but the rhythm does! If you can get this right, you can call well enough to fool a lovesick gobbler.

Bearing out this judgment is the fantastic array of objects used to emulate the sounds of an amorous hen: cedar boxes, snuff cans, wing bones, pieces of slate or metal stroked by a sliver of fat pine stuck in a corn cob, tree leaves, blades of grass, and diaphragm calls. Anything that can be coaxed into making a sound remotely resembling a turkey's yelp can be successful. A farmer friend once told me that he had used a wrench to break loose a stubborn bolt on a piece of farm machinery. In answer to the screech of the nut being loosened, a big gobbler came charging from the nearby woods to strut right out in the open field.

I am reminded of advice I received as a young border patrolman struggling to learn Spanish. My instructor told me, "Even if you can't speak it correctly, speak it fearlessly." This advice stood me in good stead, and it also applies to turkey calling. Speak it fearlessly!

Besides proper rhythm, knowing when to call is important. Perhaps even more important is when to shut up.

The level of difficulty encountered in the seduction of a male turkey can be closely related to human courtship. Young males come running at the slightest encouragement. Old gobblers, like old men, are not so easily enticed and require more coaxing. They are more likely to pretend disinterest in a hen's blandishments than they are to come to it. Both species have learned that nothing piques a female--turkey or human--like an appearance of being ignored.

There is another weakness that can be exploited in the fall season, when the sex obsession is still six months away: the flock instinct. Gregarious by nature, turkeys have a strong desire to get back together after they are scattered. We will get back to that, but let's first look at the generalities that apply to spring hunting.

I have always thought turkeys, like most birds, can see color. Complete camouflage, from head to toe--particularly face and hands--is most important. The shine of a face is sharply visible. It surely flares like a burning beacon to a sharp-eyed gobbler. A camouflaged net, paint, or mask must be worn. Camouflaged gloves are even more important. The most instantly visible thing in nature is movement, and the body part moved most is a hand.

While blended into background by complete camouflage and further masked by complete immobility, I have had turkeys come within a few feet and look directly at me. On the other hand, any movement under those circumstances, even the blink of an eye, will usually be instantly noted and even more instantly acted upon.

There is no way anyone can sit for hours without moving. For this reason, great care should be taken in selecting and preparing your position. The place you select should be made as comfortable as possible by clearing it of all debris. I have learned to pamper my rump by resting it on a portable cushion.

Many turkey hunters apparently opt to hide behind cover like a tree, log, or stump. That's a mistake in my experience. In such a position, excessive movement is usually unavoidable in getting into position for a shot. The way a turkey can disappear has to be seen to be believed. I prefer to depend on good camouflage, immobility, and a large tree to lean against, both for the comfort provided and to break my outline.