Don Juan down!

**mazzgolf** · May 26, 2023

Season ends like it began.... Wow! What a morning! Target turkey down!

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Here’s my novel that I’ve titled “Ballad of Don Juan” It’s very, very long – skip down below for the pictures if you don’t want to read it. (I write these stories down for my own hunting journal so I don’t forget these days and I can reminisce when I’m older; they are more for me, but I know some people like to read them, too, so here you go.)

First, let me give some background on this bird. I lost count how many times I have hunted this particular Tom. I first encountered him during B-week when I accidentally set up 50 yards from the roost (this by pure luck – I didn’t scout this location ahead of time. This is public land where I’ve harvested birds before, so I just came back knowing it held birds in the past). I heard him gobble from the roost that morning only to see hens leave the roost, with him following, and they never came to where I was. The following day I went back, and they were roosted in the same location. I picked the wrong spot to set up and, again, they left the roost and went in a direction that was out of range. I went back again but they had changed their roost location and I never saw him or the rest of the flock. I hunted here two Saturdays also. Those days allowed me to figure out their pattern – they would head to a field (where I did not have permission to hunt) and hang out there, feeding and dusting themselves. They would then walk off to a patch of woods that, again, was off limits.

Fast forward to D-period. I hunted other places this season, but this spot just nagged at me. I was so close those first two days I was there, I had to go back and see if I could harvest one of those turkeys. So I decided to concentrate here. I don’t remember how many mornings and afternoons I hunted here during D-period - it’s all a blur melding into one. 5 times? 6 times? 7 times? Something like that. Each time the story was the same. I would put out some yelps, and almost on cue I would see the same flock of birds walk out onto this field, feed and sometimes dust, and after about a half hour to an hour they would walk off the field back where they came from. There was one Tom in charge with 3 jakes in tow (I called them the Tom’s eunuchs – never once did I see any of the jakes strut or gobble. They just followed the Tom around). There were about 5 hens in what I called his harem. This Tom just would never leave these hens. He would always hang back a little bit, but wherever those hens went, that Tom was sure to follow. Even from a distance I could tell he was a nice-sized bird with the beard almost dragging on the ground at times. And he was a lady’s man, never leaving the girls; hence, I named him Don Juan, and he became the bird I wanted.

But day after day, this bird just would not come over to me. I would try everything. Decoys, no decoys. I tried different setup locations - 40 yards over here, 50 yards over there. Yelp, soft clucks, yell at the hens with cuts – nothing worked. Everytime I would yelp (and they seemed to prefer the sound of my box call over my pot calls), they would appear soon after in that field. But yet I couldn’t get the hens to come over to me, and that Tom would not leave the hens’ side. It was so frustrating how they would respond to my calls (often multiple times during the same hunt) but only enough to enter the field about 100 to 150 yards away. One time I remember having 2 hens come within 30 yards of me, but there were 3 other hens in the field keeping Don Juan company, and he was happy just being with them and didn’t bother coming over to those 2 that peeled away and visited me. That was when I thought – this isn’t ever going to happen. There are too many hens in this Tom’s harem, and so long as he has at least one or two hens with him, he was happy being where he was (which was usually safe in the middle of the field).

Then came today – the last day of the season. I told myself that I probably wasn’t going to get this Tom, but I also promised myself it wasn’t going to be from a lack of trying. I was able to carve out the entire morning for a hunt – I planned on getting there pre-dawn and I wasn’t going to leave until at least noon.

I have a long walk to this spot – about 3/4 mile. I prayed another prayer that, God-willing, let me harvest this bird; but if not, I was OK with it. I got to watch a flock of birds over multiple days feed and dust and just be turkeys, which was nice just to witness. Plus, it was a beautiful morning, upper-40s with blue skies and 70 degrees in the forecast. I can’t ask for anything more than that.

I put up my small blind-wall with some tall, thigh-high wispy grass in front, and I put out a lone hen decoy off to my 2 o’clock about 20 yards out in a bare spot where hopefully it can be better seen. I then sat down behind my blind-wall surrounded by this tall grass. As shooting time approached, I gave out some soft clucks and eventually a yelp or two. Sure enough, like all the other times before, here comes the gang. Don Juan, his harem, and the three eunuchs enter the field and begin feeding. And, like all the other times, eventually walked back to where they came from.

At least an hour passed by with nothing happening. I heard the Tom gobbling in the distance a couple of times, so I knew he was still around. I decided to try a tricky maneuver with the risk of getting busted. I couldn’t see the birds, so I quickly got up and ran behind me about 40 to 50 yards, let out a couple loud yelps, then quickly ran back behind my blind. Perhaps if he hears this “hen” further away, he might come back. Sure enough! Soon after, here comes some hens with Don Juan and the eunuchs in tow! And once again, they feed for a little bit, and walk back to where they came from. Ugh! This has been the pattern, and they never deviate – I can’t get any bird to leave that field no matter what I try.

Some more time passes. I try The Corbomite Maneuver once more – this time I ran about 40 yards to my right, let out a couple loud yelps on the box call, and I ran back behind the cover of my blind-wall. And waited.

And – wouldn’t you know? – here they come again! By this time I no longer am getting excited seeing them – it's like Groundhog Day. I still keep watch, but I assume they will feed and leave again like the dozen or so other times I witnessed this show over the past weeks.

But this time something different happened. One of the jakes and a couple hens started walking over to a spot in the shade where I had witnessed them dusting themselves several days prior. That day I watched them for a half hour take a dust bath in that same spot, only to get up and leave in the direction they came from; so I assumed the same thing would happen here.

Don Juan and the rest of the birds followed, ending up about 80 to 90 yards away from me at my 10 o’clock. They stayed in the shade, apparently to stay cool and get out of the sun. Some jakes and hens sat in the dust bowl area and some hens fed in the shade, while Don Juan started strutting and circling a hen that was just standing there. I thought they were going to get frisky, and I was waiting for the two to mate. He was so close to her as he was circling her, he was practically touching her the entire time. It was as if he was begging her. Love was in the air; well, at least in Don Juan’s mind it was. She didn’t seem to care and nothing happened. But while they were there, I decided to give out some very subtle clucks and maybe I could pull one or two of the hens my way; and if I could do that, I might be able to pull the rest. My clucks were so soft I didn’t even think they would hear it, but I didn’t want to make it so loud that I would scare them, so I started as soft as I could and I would increase the volume if I saw they didn’t react. They continued doing their thing with those feeding staying in the shaded area keeping cool.

Then one hen came out of the shade and started walking out, feeding as she went. Was she walking over to my calls? I couldn’t tell. But soon, one after another, the birds started walking closer and closer to me. Was this actually happening? I couldn’t believe it! Did I actually call the hens over to me?! The birds started walking closer and closer - 60 yards, 50 yards, 40 yards. Don Juan, of course, lagged behind trailing the hens. But he was slowly coming my way (which I knew he would because “where the hens go, Don was sure to follow!” and the hens were coming my way!)

The hens entered the tall grass. Now it was clear to me – they definitely heard my soft clucks, and as they walked over to investigate, they caught sight of my hen decoy and were coming to check her out.

Soon one of the jakes followed and came into range, inside 40 yards. I was debating with myself right there – I’ve been hunting these birds for so long; do I take the shot now and guarantee that I take home a bird (albeit not the one I wanted), or do I wait and hope my target bird comes into range and I take the one I want? Don Juan was still out of range, of course always trailing the rest of the birds. I decided to wait – I told myself that I knew this bird by now, and I knew he always followed the rest wherever they went. And the rest of the birds he was with were all in range, so I knew he would be, too. He was walking over and I saw no reason why he would deviate now – he was going to be in range in less than a minute if he would just keep walking in the direction he was walking.

And then ... OH NO! Disaster was about to strike! I heard a very distinct cluck right behind me. It was loud, and it was close. Somehow I called in a hen (that I did not know was there) that was walking directly behind me! I’m not in a full blind - my back is fully exposed, with only the grass around me giving cover! If I move even a millimeter, I’m going to get busted, and just as Don Juan is about to get in range! Not only that, my gun is still on my lap! I could easily shoulder the gun without being seen by the birds in front of me, but I did not expect any birds to be behind me. Even if I don’t get busted now, how am I going to raise the gun to shoot with a bird directly behind me? My mind is racing. I’m trying to plan what to do if I get busted – if I hear putt-putt, I’m going to have to shoulder the gun and shoot as fast as I possibly can do it, and shoot any male bird that I see in range, even if it isn’t Don Juan.

I stay as still as possible, even trying to control my breathing. I stare straight ahead, watching Don Juan and a jake slowly approach my decoy, walking from my left to my right. I take close note: Don Juan is the trailing bird who is on the left; the jake is the one on the right. They are all in range now – easily inside 20 yards. But I cannot risk raising the gun to shoot until I know where that hen is that was behind me. Without turning my head, I shift my eyes right. I catch some movement. Man, this bird is close!! I can barely see, but my peripheral vision catches movement to my right. OK, the bird is no longer behind me; it must be walking to my decoy. I shift my eyes back forward ... and I lost track of Don Juan and the jake in the tall grass! I still see two birds, but is Don Juan still the one on the left? I don’t know for sure. But that’s where he was before, so I’m assuming he is still trailing the jake.

I could see the bird’s head above the tall grass. My gun still isn’t shouldered and my safety isn’t even off. I’m trying to move so slow to avoid getting busted by the hen that is almost on top of me that I’m having a hard time flipping the safety off. Oh, please get this safety off. Slowly, slowly raise the gun. I have never shouldered a gun so slow. It takes forever to get this gun up. Please don’t see me move, please don’t see me move. I don’t know if that bird to my right can see me or not. I’m getting ready to hear putt-putt – if I hear it, I know chaos is going to ensue and I will need to act fast.

Finally, the gun is shouldered. Phew! No alarm has been sounded, so I take my time to put the bead on the bird’s head. I’m almost positive I picked out the right redhead, but I’m still not 100% sure I’m shooting Don Juan and not the jake. I had to take a deep breath. Yes, this is him. I’m sure of it. I can’t believe Don Juan is no more than 15 yards directly in front of me! After all these days hunting him and never coming close.

I pull the trigger! Immediately, the tall grass all around me exploded with turkeys as they jumped out – it seemed like twice as many turkeys as I thought were there! All within 10 to 20 yards of me! To my left, to my right, in front of me! WOW! Where did they all come from!? I couldn't believe how many there were, and I couldn't believe I didn't get busted by at least one of them! I was so startled at the number of birds that flew out of this tall grass that I never saw the bird that I shot flop down. First, he was there, then he was gone. Did I hit him? Did I miss? What happened to him? I quickly got up and ran over. The tall grass was hiding him, but there he was. Bird down! As I stood over him, he started the death throes and I knew it was over – success! I actually managed to harvest Don Juan ... on the last day of the season ... with less than an hour to go before I had to go home. I immediately gave thanks to God; thankful that he gave me such a great, memorable day, especially after everything that led up to it.

21 pounds (I knew he was going to be a good one!)
1” spurs
10” beard

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Here he is in all his glory! Meet Don Juan!