GLS
Classic Southern Gentleman
Last Sunday I went to a bird which was the nearest of three I heard at first light, and I estimated 400 yards to him in the tree. At 200 yards, I ran into water. River was into the woods and he was closer to the other side than to my side. I backed out and looked for one of the other birds on dry ground. All stopped gobbling within a few minutes. At about an hour later, I heard a couple of trickles far away, but then a swamp bird, most likely the one deep into the water I heard at first light, cranked up on the ground about 300 yards north of where I heard one in the tree. I was in open quail woods and he was in the swamp downhill from me. I got to the water’s edge after moving only 40 yards into the swamp woods. He answered me, but was at least 75-125 yards across moving water. He was hot-- double, triple, quadruple gobbling at my yelps and cuts. After 30 minutes I thought I heard wings to my left, but silence greeted my clucks. After about 10 minutes, I decided he had walked off on the other side off the water. I backed out to the firebreak about 10 yards behind me and cackled. He cut me off and was to my right on my side of the water. He had flown across. I moved back into the swamp, back against a pine and lightly clucked. He thundered in response to my right. In a few moments, I saw him picking his way along the water’s edge. Gun up, he broke into an open spot 33 yards away. I’ve had them fly across a 10 yards wide slough filled with water, wade across a flooded swamp up to the feathers, fly across an impenetrable thicket, but never across a wide river flooded swamp to get to me. I suppose I’ll have to wait another 47 seasons for it to happen again. When I thought I had heard wings to my left, the soft sound must have played tricks on my ears. Note the nail on his middle toe nearest the pine cone. Gil
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