38 NEBRASKAland • APRIL 2018
a top-notch day, a white-tailed deer antler shed.
The day can't get any better – unless it does.
For artifact searching will stop when anyone
hears the first gobble, and these hollowed sounds
that send tremors through a hunter's soul are felt
most by Bill and me – for each of us has a story
from the previous year that still keeps us up at
night.
Bill's occurred during a hunt outside of Lincoln
with Jake and me, when two toms responded to
us from a distance but never came closer. When,
a half-hour later, Bill decided it was time for us to
make a move in the direction of the last calls we
had heard, those two toms were staring at he and
Jake from a spot just outside of shooting range,
and then ran as fast as they could in the opposite
direction as Jake was unable to get a good shot.
Mine occurred while driving near land where we
hunt and saw a tom in full strut in the middle of
the field. I slowed my truck down and pulled off
the side of the road, photographing as I did.
Seeing me, but apparently unconcerned, the
tom remained with a pair of hens, following them
wherever they went. He continued this as the hens
continued to walk west of where I was parked,
across the road, and then out of sight.
Meanwhile, the tom, about 60 yards from me and
losing ground from the hens, turned and went into
full strut not 20 yards from me, turning back and
