OSCEOLA - A BIRD OF SUPERSTITION
More of the Hunt for the Osceola
 EDITOR'S
NOTE: Osceola - the very word rings with defiance. The
man who bore this name and blazed it into the history
of this nation was one of the greatest Indian chieftains
who ever lived. He led his Seminole people into battle
against one of America's finest generals, Andrew Jackson,
and handed Jackson his only defeat in the great Indian
wars of the 1800s. So powerful was the Seminole nation
that they never signed a peace treaty with the American
government but chose instead to retreat to the swamps
of Georgia and Florida. Chief Osceola was a guerilla
fighter who effectively used hit-and-run tactics to
defeat Jackson's army. Because Osceola and his men would
appear and just as quickly disappear, many soldiers
under Jackson attributed supernatural powers to Osceola.
Even today the turkey that bear his name, Meleagris
gallopavo osceola, also known as the Florida turkey,
the only place where it's found, is believed by many
of the Seminole nation to be spirit-possessed.
 As
I belly crawled to the ditch, I listened to Jenkins
telling Osceola how the hunt should go. There was no
question in his mind or mine that if the turkey came
into range, Osceola would be able to put the gobbler
down. Osceola had shot competitively on the trap-and-skeet
circuit and was a certified master with a shotgun. If
the bird was in range, years of training and shooting
thousands of targets would make Osceola's aim deadly
accurate. While crawling through a small patch of briars
to reach a vantage point to watch the drama unfold,
I was confident in Jenkins' ability to call and Osceola's
skill in shooting. The only factor in the equation that
was unknown was the turkey's willingness to come to
the call. Peeping over the edge of the ditch and scanning
the field with my binoculars, I couldn't see the gobbler.
The tom had quit talking, and the field was empty.
Because Jenkins and I are friends and have hunted together
for many seasons, I knew what to expect next. Jenkins
is a patient hunter and disagrees with the idea that
anyone should hunt aggressively. If in my eagerness
to get to a vantage point to see the action I spooked
the  gobbler,
I was certain that Jenkins would provide a tongue lashing
that would have made the great Seminole Indian War appear
to be a minor disagreement between two close friends.
For 10 long minutes of silence, the field was empty.
Then I spotted a huge, black dot in the very back of
the field.
Jenkins explained later to me, "John, when you
were crawling, the bird in the field gobbled. Just as
he did, a second tom gobbled. When the turkey in the
field heard the second tom gobble, he hushed and left
the field. Apparently the tom in the woods was the dominant
gobbler, because he flew into the field after the subordinate
gobbler left." As I watched through the binoculars,
I studied the legendary ghost of the swamp. The Florida
turkey, as the Osceola is sometimes called, was a much-darker
bird than the eastern wild turkey. Smaller too in body
than the eastern, the Osceola turkey was just as proud
when he strutted and gobbled. When Jenkins began to
call, the gobbler seemed to key in to the sound like
a beagle dog would lock into the fresh scent of a rabbit
the dog was pursuing. The turkey would gobble, walk
a few steps and then strut. Then the tom would run a
few steps, stop, strut and gobble. The bird was coming,
and I had a ringside seat for the show.
 Back
in the blind, Jenkins told Osceola, "That gobbler's
coming in quick. Sit on your leg, and get braced to
take the shot. When the turkey reaches the edge of that
little ditch, I'll make him stop with my calling and
stick his neck up. Then shoot for the wattles where
the feathers join the neck. By aiming there, you'll
put more pellets in the kill zone." Osceola waited
anxiously as the gobbler continued to close ground -
just like his forefathers historically had bagged turkeys
in the palmettos. However, instead of a master-crafted
shotgun and high brass shells, they used longbows and
wooden arrows they had whittled from sticks. As I watched,
the turkey continued to close ground while Jenkins sounded
like the sexiest hen a gobbler ever had heard. The bird
moving toward us meant to waste no time meeting and
courting this anxious hen.
TOMORROW: THE HUNT FOR THE
OSCEOLA ENDS
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