He's hunting 640 acres on both sides of a deep valley. So, next morning, long before daylight, Matt is waiting in the river bottoms just behind a hill blocking him from view of the roost. Preferring not to use a blind, he likes to move freely and stay as quiet as possible. His calling, played more like a musical instrument than a game call, took a while to gain effect. But at 7 a.m. in the early morning fog, three love sick toms came a calling.
Problem is, from the wrong direction.
Later that day, pleased with his location, Matt was back. This time, however with better shooting lanes. It only took a couple of clucks on a slate call and his three amigos were back. He shoots and misses. Disappointed, but unfazed, he regroups and heads to high ground again.