My first instinct was to bolt for the nearest tree, but I kept reasonably calm, located a big tree, tiptoed over to it, sat down and got the gun up. I yelped again. No answer this time, and I had a sinking feeling that I’d scared the bird away despite my best effort to be stealthy. I scratched in the leaves to sound like a feeding hen. A moment later, here he came in full strut. At 35 yards the turkey stepped up on a fallen log and displayed like a giant ruffed grouse on its drumming log. After standing there for what seemed like forever but was probably no more than 60 seconds while I tried to find a clear lane through some saplings to shoot, the tom turned and strutted the length of the log. I pulled the trigger when I had a clear shot at the bird’s head. From gobble to shot, the hunt took no more than five minutes, but they were five of the best minutes I’ve ever spent in the turkey woods.