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Obsessed Huntress
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Continued from STTA Part 1

My plan was to allow them to come out in the open, relax, and then I would let an arrow fly. After all, this is opening day and I dont want to scare them too bad because I will be hunting here for another six weeks. In Texas, we get four turkey tags.

The young bird is strutting his stuff and looking really good. He is putting on a show that every turkey hunter lives to see. The bird I want is being too cautious to let his guard down, but continues to follow the young bird. He senses something isnt quite right. They finally move into shooting range, but unexpectedly, move again behind some prickly pear cactus. Oh, man. What luck Im having! I am getting more worried about my success again. The normal routine here is, they come in from the right into the small clearing, feed for just a few minutes at the most, and exit to the left. The gobblers are already on the left. I have no shot if they walk out now.

The young gobbler struts his way from behind the cactus, but is still moving away from me and to the left. The older gobbler follows, but made the fatal mistake of turning his back to me to grab a bite on his way out. Now was my only chance. It was like the hens could feel something being wrong. Seventeen hens are now looking up at me.

I released the arrow from my crossbow and prayed it was a good fatal hit. He took off running straight away from the group as I watched as long as I could see him through the brush and trees. The hens slowly moved out as their normal routine to the left. I wanted to make sure they didnt understand for sure what had just happened, so I sat and waited quietly, and patiently. Inside, I was so anxious to get to the bird, knowing I had coyotes and bobcats in the area. While hunting out of that same stand in the past years, I have had the experience of shooting a hog, waiting thirty minutes, and in that time, my hog had been half eaten. This was no hog, but the favorite meal for both species of predators. I had to be careful to not expose my location, and yet hurry at the same time before I lost him.

I got down from the stand, put my .44 pistol and snake boots on, and headed for the shooting area. I couldnt find my arrow, so I was a little worried as to where it went, and what I would now find. For an archery hunter, the arrow can tell the story of what you are in for as far as tracking your game. You can tell where you hit the animal by the blood on the arrow, and the smell of the material deposited. I dont have the benefit of knowing what I am in for, and understanding my luck concerning retrieving a turkey in the thick brush country, I was getting depressed, and extremely more serious. I followed the trail out of the clearing I had seen him run, and after getting through the thorny mesquite branches, I saw a black spot laying on the ground ten yards away. It was in deed my gobbler. What a great day, Yes! Opening morning, and I have retrieved my bird with no trouble at all. This is a first. Done by seven AM on opening day.

When I approached the downed bird, my arrow had entered the back and penetrated through the breast, but was still in the bird. I carried him back to my stand and had a good look at him. It was a proud moment for me. I had now accomplished what every other turkey hunter was dreaming about and hoping for that morning.

The next morning, I was confident I would have the same experience as I did the day before. I got set up and waited. I waited longer, and no gobbles, no clucks, nothing. Something is wrong, here. As I sat there wondering what was different, I thought to myself, this is what happens when a cat is in the area. Not even a mouse stealing a piece of corn to take back to his hole. The morning passed and it was now eleven AM. My backside hurts from sitting so long, so I got to quit. I made the call for my hunting partner to come get me and started gathering my things to head home.

He pulled in the clearing with the truck so we could fill the feeder, and as Im putting my gear bag and crossbow in the backseat, he hollers Look! Look!
I spun around, but couldnt see what he was seeing. Big bobcat! He just came out from behind your stand. I grabbed my bow and one arrow, and headed parallel in his direction in the brush. I got to an area I could see the trail he was traveling, but all I saw was my hunting partner looking back at me for a response. I never saw the bobcat. Oh well, now I have something else to hunt. Bobcat. Two years ago in that stand, I shot a bobcat under the stand at eight yards while hunting turkey. The cat jumped out to get himself a duck that was standing in front of me. He didnt catch the duck, but he did catch an arrow. That bobcat is also number 1 in the record books for crossbow. Maybe this one is his daddy! Whew Hew!
 

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