The turkey’s piercing gobble penetrated the morning dawn as we walked toward the spot we had agreed held the most promise of harboring a longbeard.

It was forceful enough that I heard it above the noise of our footfalls and had been able to course his location on the backside of the swamp. “Did you hear that?” I asked, stopping the group.

The gobble placed him in or near the two food plots that bordered the creek. Our gait was brisk now as we made our way in his direction. Since we were close to Possum Creek, I wondered if the gobbler shared DNA with the infamous “Phantom of Possum Creek” that Mr. Gene Nunnery wrote about in “The Old Pro Turkey Hunter.”

Turning down the road that would lead us closer to this sultan of the swamp, I noticed his fresh tracks in the mud. My GPS (Gobbler Positioning System) had been spot on, a skill that is often more difficult when the spring woods have greened up.

I was hunting with my brother-in-law Michael Van Veckhoven, my nephew Billy, and my son Dan. Billy had yet to harvest a longbeard this season and I hoped to aid in that endeavor. I had been looking forward to hunting together all season!

We surveyed the first field as we approached and since there were no turkeys there and no tracks leading in that direction, we headed up the sandy path toward the other field.

As we rounded the turn, I pulled the Buster Duvall Butt-kicker scratch box from my vest and, breaking one of the cardinal rules of turkey hunting (always have cover before you call), proceeded to let out a few soft clucks and yelps. The booming “GOBBBLLLL…EEEE” that came in response made us scramble for cover. I felt like an usher directing everyone to their seats before quickly taking mine.

Checking the time, I settled in and waited for the gobbler to sound off again. As the minutes passed, the swamp mosquitos began attacking, convincing me that we had to be close to the original Phantom’s realm.

To quote the Old Pro, “…them mosquitoes drinks insecticides, gets drunk off it, and would attack a bull elephant or a crocodile.” Yes, we were in the right spot. DEET was like nectar to these bloodthirsty savages.

After enduring the vampiric onslaught for another 30 minutes, our focus was redirected by another resounding “GOBBBLLLL…EEEE” from the direction of the field. The few soft yelps I gave in response were immediately met with another gobble.

This back and forth continued for the next hour while we each felt our blood supply dwindling. In the midst of the battle, I determined it was time to make a move.

I quickly repositioned my nephew further up the road toward the turkey and moved myself about 30 yards further back from his setup. Quickly, I crawled into the road to position my decoys so they could be seen if the longbeard finally made it around the bend that had, to that point, been his Rubicon.

Thus far, the wise old tom had taken, in the words of the Old Pro, “…all I put to him in stride.” It was time to change calls. I pulled out my Hunter’s Addiction Yellow Heart Crystal glass call and the Success Call that had belonged to my father-in-law.

The combination proved to be the sage bird’s undoing. Both he and his hen responded to the high-pitched raspiness of the glass call and after a few clucks and purrs on the Success Call, I watched as my nephew’s head went down on his gunstock to take aim.

The cautious longbeard materialized on the road and made his way in our direction. Although he had committed to coming, he hugged the side of the road as he walked just in case a quick evaporation into the woods was necessary. Finally, the “BOOM” of my nephew’s shotgun sent a payload that ended the two hour chess match that had played out not too far from the banks of Possum Creek.

As we celebrated together in the road, admiring the beauty of the majestic bird, we relived each moment of the hunt and talked about just how special the morning had been. I had used every call in my vest to work the bird, including the call our father-in-law and the boys’ grandfather had used to call in my first turkey.

I think Mr. Gene described it best: “Success – perhaps a hard fought battle against a worthy opponent.”

Make the most of the last few weeks that remain in April to chase a longbeard or catch a bass or crappie and, until next time, I look forward to seeing you out there in our great outdoors!

Email Outdoors columnist Brad Dye at braddye@comcast.net.