It was back in a time when I was able to leap small mountains in only two or three bounds, and climb up rock hillsides with a shotgun on my back. There we were, just out of our tent drinking coffee, out in the middle of the Ozark National Forestland of Arkansas, in the wilds of Newton County. And you could hear two gobblers sounding off on the roost a good mile down the valley, maybe more. Up the valley a few hundred yards, a much closer gobbler answered them.
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