It was the last call he made that made me turn and run for the safety of civilization.
The hens were still gossiping and the gobblers were still boasting when I stepped up to the pulpit, but they quieted quickly when I cleared my throat.
My first fleeting glimpse of a wild turkey had paralyzed me. Lord help me if I ever saw one up close.
Rumors of his existence were almost as rare as sightings, and because the few that did catch a glimpse of him were afraid to admit it lest they be counted crazy, most men lived in the bliss of ignorance.
If I could cross the open ground in front of me without being spotted, I might still have a chance. If not, I would have wasted three hours of afternoon and three hundred feet of elevation.
Here in Oklahoma, we listen to classic country. Country-and-western country. Willie-and-Waylon-and-the-boys country. So do the birds we hunt.