Another story about my old man. We had this bird that roosted in the back of the holler where two Jackson county mountains meet. He would do the same thing everyday, im 99.99999% sure it was the same bird day in an day out. Back to the story where he liked to stay was pretty much cliffs with two benches about 15-20 yards wide. He would never gobble on the limb but when he made it to his little hole in the cliffs he would gobble his head off. Well finally we had listened to it all we was gonna do. I killed a bird early one morning and when I got to him I could see dad coming around the mountain to see what I had killed he was trying to find another bird that had been gobbling good every morning but he didn't ever gobble. Well the cliff bird fires off. We ease around that way on the mountain. Across from him and we figure out he is on the lower bench. Dad has always been able to take his time and walk quite so I told him I would keep that bird there an you ease around an get above him an ambush him. Lo sit down on a rock an let the bird have it. As soon as he would get done gobblin I was cutting at him again it was a lot of fun messing with him. Scanning the hill with my binos and cutting on a mouth call I finally pick out my dad moving he got right above the bird an started toward the edge. Everytime the bird would gobble dad would take a step closer. It took 15 mins to cover the bench to get to the edge but when he got to the edge the bird was behind a rock and when he came strutting out he met a load of 5's. Two birds by 9 solid gobbles from on the limb till then.