By Rick Reyer for Wausau Pilot & Review
“Be ready, here he comes,” my hunting partner, Greg, whispered on a sunny Saturday morning.
The two of us had been in our blind for some time, watching a flock a vast distance from where we were seated. We saw the hens out front, picking at bugs, bathing in the dust. We saw the toms watching over, while the jakes, the pre-tom adolescent males in the flock, played and pecked while their older counterparts looked on.
Wild turkeys are, in my opinion, the most peculiar of God’s creation. It’s hard to imagine the turkey as the national symbol of our country, but that’s exactly what would have happened, had Benjamin Franklin had his way.
Tell that to the Philadelphia Eagles. And it’s hard to imagine a turkey mascot for just about any professional team.
Yet, the turkey is a majestic creature in its own right. They are prey not only to human hunters, but protect themselves – thanks to a well-developed set of defense mechanisms – against predators such as wolves, coyotes and foxes. That includes protecting themselves against their own kind.
Setup. Early on in my turkey hunting exploits, my friend Greg and I were enjoying a hunt just south of Merrill. He showed me how to observe a flock more than 100 yards away with good glass binoculars. The turkey’s eyesight is as good, if not better, than an eagle. They can see 360 degrees by only turning their head one-quarter of an inch. I quickly learned to be mindful of my movement as well as the potential reflection they might spot in my field glasses.
With all due respect and apologies to Garth Brooks, I call this part “The Dance”. On this hunt there were about 10-15 hens, five jakes and three toms. Generally, hens and toms respect the authority of the eldest or largest of their gender. Hens generally, but not always, submit to the tom who’s-a-calling. Generally, jakes, like many adolescents of other species, respect nothing, the hooligans of the turkey world. Granted, this time of year, mating season, all bird creatures great and small go a bit whack-a-doodle. Jakes take it to the next level, often to their detriment.
Watching what happened next was a sight to remember. Three toms successfully flocked the hens, with Mama hen in charge. The toms then set themselves up about five to 10 yards uphill to observe. The jakes were on their own and made their way behind the brush, downhill behind the toms. They slowly made their way toward the hens before rushing the birds.
Chaos ensued. Hens squawked, feathers flew, and the jakes finally froze as the toms came running. Clearly, the toms don’t put up with much. Something not everyone knows about turkeys: they have spurs just above their feet. A jake’s spurs are about a half-inch and rounded. But tom spurs can grow to a full inch or more and are absolutely lethal in their pointed sharpness.The battle between the toms and the jakes resulted in a few more minutes of flying feathers and howls before the jakes escaped. They literally ran away.
Sitting in the blind with Greg, we tried desperately to hold in our laughter at the sight of it all. But we failed. It was just too funny.
But finally, the commotion began to lose its crescendo and the toms herded the hens toward the valley in which we were watching. That’s when we had our chance.
“Be ready,” Greg whispered. “Here he comes.”
And indeed, he did. A huge tom was in my sights when I shot and he went down. At that moment, the jakes took their revenge by jumping on the fallen tom until we shooed them away. Perhaps revenge is a dish best served cold not just in the human world, but in the turkey world as well.
Anytime you can get close to a wild animal and watch it behave naturally, it’s an inspiring experience. Whether you’re seeing them from your backyard, a ground blind or tree stand, having these creatures so close to you is an incredible experience, even if you don’t wind up shooting one. Turkey hunting can also be tough sometimes – you probably won’t succeed even half as much as you fail.
But that’s all part of the thrill.
Rick Reyer is a lifelong hunting and fishing enthusiast. He is a retired broadcaster who lives in Wausau.
