Spittin' n Drummin'

[Tenth Legion]

This Maine tom spied me walking up the tote road and we had a two hundred yard stare down, which he won. I slowly retreated back to the bend and slipped off to the south, all under his courious gaze. Then started the circuitous route to the far side of the log landing he was patrolling. Thank goodness for iPhones with aerial positioning! Thirty minutes later I was just where I wanted to be, set up on a lane leading to the landing. A few sweet yelps on the longbox followed by some seductive cutting and I was in business. No gobblin', no yelping....instead the unmistakable penetrating sound of a real close tom spittin' and drummin'!! A hen appeared first, she was casually feeding along, and behind her came her suitor. I raised the old 1882 and placed the bead at the base of his neck. At 25 yards he came out of strut and I tripped the hammer. When the smoke cleared, an 18 pound two-year-old with an exceptional beard was flopping, marking the end of another grand spring hunt. Tomorrow will be another guide's hunt, switching to an 1889 GH.