Hunted yesterday and set up on a hillside overlooking a deep hollow that always has roosting hens. As dawn approached, the hens began to sound, and so did the gobblers on the opposite side of the hollow and a little south. Needless to say, I spent my morning watching those hens court the long beards and intercept anything that came my way. Fast forward to this morning. Knowing the hens were in the same hollow, I moved south with the intent to intercept the gobblers before they hit the hens. The drizzling rain allowed me to stealth into a spot about 100 yards south but even with the hens. At first light one lone gobbler could be heard about half a mile further south. I hit my yelp and just about freaked when 3 sounded off directly in front of me no farther than 70 or so yards away. I sat quiet for another 15 minutes and then the hens began to work their magic. They were not where I had planned, but were still off to the side of the gobblers. Eventually everyone hit the ground, and the dominant hen and I got into a battle of wills. She worked her way between us, but I knew I was winning as every time I yelped, the gobblers sounded. She was just roaming around calling and calling, but their only answer was to my box. Yet, the gobblers wouldn't come over the slight rise that was separating me and them. I worked those birds for about 30 minutes until 2 nice 10-inchers ran straight over the rise and stopped about 15 yards from me. I was completely unprepared for the full frontal assault I got, and the lead bird didn't like what he saw and headed back over the rise, with his buddy in tow. I waited about 15 minutes then struck the box one more time. This time another gobbler sounded off, again, just over the rise. I worked that bird for what seemed like an eternity before he finally stuck his head over the rise and stopped behind a tree. Funniest thing I've ever seen was that bird looking around that tree trying to spot the hen. First from the left, then from the right. He'd dart his head out, then pull it back. During one of his head fakes back behind the tree, I was able to get my gun up and ready for the shot. Eventually, he stepped out, and that was all she wrote. Super happy with this bird. My most unique and exciting hunt yet. Also, a big lesson learned for me. After I shot this bird, it flopped and flopped. I was sure it was down for the count, so I took my sweet time getting organized and walking over to it. Well, it flopped over the rise, over a ledge, and down about 100 yards of 60 degree terrain into a creek. Took me forever to find it, fully expired in the creek at the bottom of the ravine. 10.5 inch beard. 19.5 lbs. 1 and 1/1/4 inch spurs.