It was made from the hollow bone of
a turkey's wing. I called it a turkey call. By holding the end of my hand
and sucking it right, it would make a noise, or squeak, very similar to
the turkey's voice. Sometimes, when I heard one gobbling in the woods, I
would go as near as I could, and not let him see me, and hide myself
behind an old log, or root, where a tree had been blown down, take the
hollow bone out of my pocket and call. I have seen them come up on the
run, sometimes one, at other times more. While lying in ambush once I
shot two, at the same time, with one rifle bullet and got them both.
I have often shot at a flock, in the woods. They would scatter and fly in
all directions. I would run ahead, near where I thought they lighted,
hide and call. If a lone turkey heard the shrill note, he would answer
and was easily decoyed up to me. In this way I was very sure to get him.
Father made one of the luckiest shots at wild turkeys of which I ever
knew. They had a notion of coming into his buckwheat field and filling
their crops with buckwheat, sometimes two or three times a day. Father
discovered them in the field; he went away round and approached them from
the woods, on the back side of the field, where they came in.
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