Winter 2024

By Susan Lindsley

I roosted the turkeys the evening before opening day. Hens and gobblers flapped up to the pines where they roosted the past three nights.  Yesterday I had kicked out a swale beside a nearby oak with a base larger than my outline. I was ready to collect my bird.

Opening morning, I backed against the oak long before they stirred and toe nails scratched limbs. I was sure I would take home a bird. But typical, for me at least, my soft calls went unheeded and the birds preferred a real hen. Down they flew, and away they strode. The big tom flared out as if to tease me.

Midmorning found me disappointed and headed home along the Jeep road, on the lookout for possible turkey signs in the bare spots still soft from yesterday’s rain.

But what I spotted was not turkey scratching. A buck had offered his affection to any passing doe with a fresh scrape under an overhanging privet limb on the edge of a small meadow. I sidestepped around the scrape and thought, March and he’s active? I’ll be back to see him in deer season. Gotta be a gollywhopper!

The gobbler disappeared, but discovering that big deer scrape kept the day from being a loss. Photo by Jimmy Jacobs.

When turkey season ended, all I could think about was that springtime love letter issued by a buck. October found me scouting along that Jeep trail, and Ole Buster had tripped the lover’s waltz for more than 150 yards down the roadway.  Scrape heaven.

I had two weekends to prepare before the season opened. In those long-ago years, no one had designed a climbing stand. Rich’s department store, then the place to shop in Atlanta, sold leaning ladder stands with hoods. Three were soon in my barn and waiting to serve me. I selected the three busiest-looking scrapes and placed a ladder about 70 or so yard from each scrape, on the “home” side, so I would reach the stand before reaching the scrape.

Opening day, I perched in the first stand before daylight. No deer. Back two hours before dark, but he still did not appear. Day 2, I moved to the second ladder and repeated Day 1, and again, no deer.

Day 3, to the third stand. This one overlooked the meadow scrape from last spring. But another lonely four-hour morning with only one squirrel to entertain me as it scurried from one oak to another. Deer hunting can be lonely and mornings seem endless. And the backside sitting site can feel like concrete.

I went back to sit on the concrete again in early afternoon. At 4:40, I heard him grunt behind my left side.  Talk about squirming, I tied to twist to look into the woods. The underbrush was too thick to see him, but the courting grunt approached.

Should I pull the rifle to my right shoulder now or wait to see if he came into the field to give me a good left-shoulder shot? I’m left-handed but shoot from either shoulder.

A doe stepped into the field and did not break stride but continued across. She disappeared into the thickets where there was no open pathway. I struggled to get my Ruger .44 to my shoulder…he just had to come into the field and he just had to stop for my shot.

He strolled into the opening as casually as a kitten stretching itself to welcome petting. I got buck fever. I feared he would keep going. I had to hurry. I like a still target better than a walking one.

I have no idea how I managed to pull my Ruger to my shoulder. I tried to whistle to halt him.

The whistle was a failure but the effect of the half-whistle stopped him. His head went up. I put the crosshairs on his neck and squeezed. He fell.

His head adorns my office wall over my writing desk.

The buck scouted during turkey season remained true to his spring scrapes the next fall. Photo by Susan Lindsley.

That spring turkey hunt taught me to scout for deer signs in March, the tail end of the rut in middle Georgia. The big boys will still be looking for that special lady.

A member of the Georgia Outdoor Writers Association, Susan Lindsley of Decatur has authored numerous books about deer and wildlife, as well as novels, short fiction and nonfiction. For more details visit her website. She can be reached at yesterplace@earthlink.net.