She spooks at the shutter and jets out of there, but only gives a single putt. I cover it up with some clucks and then start to cut exactly like she was. It works and the tom is now 50 yards away and coming in. I have my gun up and the adrenaline going. He spots my dekes and starts displaying from 40 yards out. He finally clears all the brush after 5 minutes of showing off. Now he spots my decoys and really starts to strut. He gobbles about 10 times and I am hoping he comes in another 10 feet because there is a small twig between me and him.
As he starts to step clear, he sees something on me that isn't right...The white from my camera, my shape against the tree...I don't know for sure, but I wasn't concealed at all at this point, just camoed and motionless with my back to the tree. I am hoping he will calm down and continue but he sticks his head in the air as high as it will go and locks on to me. He starts to turn and I know I am busted. I aim for his head and squeeze the trigger. Whiff.
He drops his head as I shoot and I feel like a *censored* for aiming at this head and not his wattles. He was a nice bird, and I am pretty sure he was the same one I took pictures of yesterday.
