It's 7:30

[Brdad1125]

One morning about an hour after daylight ,sometime in the 1980;s , I was working a big gobbler and had him within 60yds. He would strut, drum, gobble, turn a few turns and move a few feet closer in my direction. Got him, thought I. Bulls--- replied fate. Suddenly he took off like he was shot out of a cannon for parts unknow. What the hell, I wondered? Then I heard the most God awful squawk and down the ridge came Percy, dressed in a bright blue coat and brandishing a box caller that had to be a foot and a half long from the sound of it. Knowing I would see Percy later in the day I stayed hidden so he never knew I was there. Later that day I ran into Percy and invited him to go turkey hunting with me the next morning and emphasized several times the importance of good camouflage. We met the next morning and Percy was decked out in a brand new set of camo. Daylight came , turkeys started gobbling and the morning was shaping up to be a fantastic hunt. I had called two long beards to within a few yards of gun range when I glanced over at Percy and his coat sleeve had ridden up and his silver colored watch was shining like the sun. I quietly got his attention and tapped my wrist. In a voice that would awaken the dead he announced, "It's 7:30!" Like the day before those ole boys left Mississippi for Alabama.