A Hunter is Born (The Apprentice)
by Jerry Scribner
In the June, 2023 edition of The Maine Sportsman, Joe Saltalamachia shared a poignant narrative with his column “The Heart of a Deer Hunter.” Joe’s moving article encouraged me to share the following account of my daughter’s first hunt.
My daughter Valeda, who lives in Colorado, had never expressed any interest in hunting. In fact, she has a predominantly vegetarian diet. But, on a lark, I posed the question, “Would you be interested in sharing a few days of spring turkey hunting with me in Maine?” Her response thrilled me to the core: “Wow! I really appreciate the invite, and I am definitely interested. My views on hunting have come full circle in my lifetime. I admire my friends (and of course family) who hunt. I would love to share that with you.”
Thus, plans were put in motion for a few days of father/daughter spring turkey hunting in Maine. Valeda made flight arrangements, took an online Hunter Safety Course, and did some target practice with a friend. On my end, I purchased an Out-of-State Apprenticeship Hunting License for her, pulled together the necessary camo attire (applying the all-important tick repellant), and borrowed a 20-gauge shotgun from a friend for her to use.
The day after she arrived in Maine, we spent time patterning the shotgun and increasing her comfort level. After repeated reinforcement of the BRASS (breathe, relax, aim, squeeze) routine, Valeda was demonstrating ethical precision with her shot placement. Once that was accomplished, we set up along a nearby agricultural plot to familiarize her with the habitat and the calling routine we would employ for the next few days.
That night, we discussed what time we should depart the next morning to be in place for legal shooting time. I sincerely wanted Valeda to be able to experience the gobbling of the roosted turkeys and the sounds of the woods “coming alive” at dawn. We decided to get up at 3:45 a.m.
Henned-Up
As we left our vehicle in Windsor, the toms were already gobbling from the roost. Valeda and I stealthily stalked to within 100 yards of the roosted birds, and set up. Unfortunately, we also heard the tree calls of hens intermingled with the gobbles of the toms. When the turkeys flew down, the toms were already “henned-up.” Even my seductive calling could not compete with the real thing!
We tried another set-up, to no avail. Four hours into our hunt, Valeda said she was cold and wanted to pack it in for the day. Although I’m an all-day hunter, this hunt was hers, and I promptly acquiesced.
Day 2
Given that we had shared the early morning experience Day 1, I had Valeda choose our departure time for Day 2. She chose something much more aligned to her biorhythms, after I acknowledged that time of day had not been a critical factor in determining harvest success. We headed out at 8:30 a.m.
Although we saw several flocks in fields, we were unsuccessful in luring any toms away from the hens with our calls. Around noon, I asked Valeda if she’d like to take a break to see some baby goats at a nearby farm. Her answer was an enthusiastic “Yes!” Fun interlude.
Back to the First Place
In the afternoon, we retraced our steps. I asked if she’d be interested in setting up and calling again near where we had the first day. Valeda said she was all in on my plan. We parked the truck and headed down across the agricultural plot, immediately seeing a group of turkeys scurrying across the field. Not exactly an auspicious development, but we found a concealed site in the tree line, and set up nonetheless.
After an hour of occasional calling, I looked to my left and was astonished to see a band of four jakes advancing within 15 yards. I gave Valeda the “thumbs up.” Valeda whispered, “Which one?” I whispered, “Any of them!” She aimed and fired. Success! Given that three others were still in range, I told her she could take another if she wished. She said, “No. I’m good with one.”
Emotion and Ethics
Although she’d made an admirable shot, the jake was still flopping around, as they often will. Valeda tenderly cried, “It’s not dead!” I explained to her that her shot was lethal, and the bird’s nervous system had not yet shut down. As the tears flowed, we shared a meaningful embrace.
We took the usual photos of her with the turkey. I would not learn until later that when sending the picture to her mother, she included the text, “Your daughter is a killer.”
Ethical hunters progress through the whole rationalization process, i.e., they connect the dots on how a responsibly-managed harvest of regulated species contributes to healthier sustainable populations in the whole wildlife management/conservation scheme of things.
And then there’s the hunting revenue contribution in support of populations of nongame as well as game species. Valeda fully understands how we as hunters have taken on the responsibility of harvesting some of our own meat instead of buying it neatly packaged secondhand at the supermarket. However, it takes time for the ethical hunter to justify the taking of another vibrant life.
I’m Still Learning
That being said, her initial reaction did make me wonder if over the years, I had become somewhat hardened in my taking of game. We very seldom purchase meat. I’m in my early 70s and I have harvested many deer and turkey, a caribou, a couple of moose, and hundreds of grouse. Whenever I kill big game, I thank God and the animal for its sacrifice. With birds, I guess I’ve become a little thick-skinned over time. Note to self: Might want to work on that. As I age, am I becoming soft … or enlightened?
Anyway…when we got home, Valeda volunteered to help me with the processing of her turkey. Thus, I instructed her on how to cut up and package the breast meat, and how to extract the drumsticks from the carcass. She asked me what I did with the feathers. I responded that I discarded them. Wrong answer. Valeda wanted to utilize everything possible, so started researching uses for them in items like headdresses, fans, streamer flies and even cat toys.
We then parboiled the drumsticks for six hours. This provides a lot of great meat for chili, gumbo, pasta recipes and pot pies. After the parboiling process, I proceeded to dump the water down the drain. My bad! As she correctly pointed out, that could have been used for delicious turkey broth in recipes. Guess I’m still learning!
In fact, given what I’ve learned, I’m wondering who the true apprentice on this hunt actually was.
Jerry Scribner of Belgrade has written many stories for The Maine Sportsman, ranging from turkeys to deer, and even including a caribou in Newfoundland.
