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Young Turkey Hunters Remembered - by John Andrews of Gut Pile Style!

Many years ago two hungry, skinny Indian kids received word of domestic turkeys escaping a turkey processing plant that was operating about a half mile from home. The word spread quickly, and a lethal force was soon formed and in hot persuit of the fast running birds. During the bird chase, the two brothers soon realized the fruitlessly chased birds were too fleet of foot and had the problem solved as soon as they returned home. Returning minutes later armed with their bows and arrows, the hunt was on. On the return to the wooded ravine where the birds sought refuge and were being chased through the brush and trees, the two boys waited in ambush. After a bug infested and hot wait lasting probably and hour, along came a running huge white tom turkey. The two archers sat back to back, so as to cover the escape route with a well planned ambush. As the big tom came abreast, the one year elder brother let his arrow fly. With excitement he saw the arrow strike home, but the bird jumped up and continued his escape. Not to be outdone, the brothers knew the bird was crippled and was still destined for the dinner table. After a long stalk back toward the plant, the bird was spotted running toward the loading dock. Turkeys are not noted as being the smartest bird by many, but this bird was smart. He ran under a parked dropped semi trailer and flew/jumped up and perched onto the undercarriage of the trailer dolly. The younger brother slowly circled around the trailer and the older brother crept to the rear of the trailer and carefully peeked under the trailer. There perched the crafty bird, with his butt facing the young warrior. The lad drew full draw and let loose the feathered wood missile and watched it strike home, a perfect Texas shot, right up the you-know-what of the big tom. the big bird flopped off the undercarriage with some help of the arrow, ran a few steps, and collapsed. My brother and I made a perfect hunting team and were walking tall when we returned home to our happy parents with the bird over my shoulder. After that hunt, we were well prepared for the rest of the escaping turkeys that we lugged home. It's not the amount of effort per pound of game, it's the hunt and actually putting something on the table.

John Andrews John's Custom Knives

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Posted by John Andrews at Gut Pile Style!

Buzzards, Possums and Pick Up Trucks

A true story about some buzzards, a dead 'possum, and a young fella in an old pickup truck.

Several years ago, at work, I was driving on patrol and decided to check on one of our guys that was manning an entrance/exit gate. On the way to the gate on the hilly paved road, I encountered some buzzards feasting on a dead 'possum. I slowed way down because I didn't want to hit the birds on the road, giving them plenty of time to fly and clear the road.

At the gate, I was visiting the other guard when an old pickup arrived with the passenger sicker than a poisoned dog. The driver had a terrible mess, a huge wide swath of rotten 'possum guts and other sickening stuff the entire length of his truck, including the windshield. It was horrible and the weather was very hot. The swath was about 4 feet wide.

I was standing upwind alongside of the terrible mess and asked the driver what happened. The poor fella said he topped the hill and there were buzzards all over the road and he nearly hit some of them. One or more of the spooked birds regurgitated as they lifted off the ground, trying to lighten the load and gain altitude. The contents hit the front of the truck and traveled the entire length of the truck. You could see where he turned on his windshield wipers to gain some visibility, but didn't have any windshield washer fluid in the washer tank. He had just enough view to drive, the wipers smearing the terrible stuff.

I looked at my fellow officer that was the unfortunate downwind from the mess. Poor ol' Remo was kinda pale and green, too. We were going to eat our lunches at the guard shack, but kinda lost our appetites. The driver asked me if I could smell it. I said, "H*ell no, I'm upwind! Get this stinking mess out of here!" The poor sick green kid said he wondered if he could even make it to a car wash. Off he went, headed to a car wash miles away.

John Andrews

John's Custom Knives http://www.gutpilestyle.com/ForumSMF/index.php?top...

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He Couldn't Kill A Buck If It Was Tied To A Tree