I was hunting a turkey one morning that refused to come in. I don't know how many times I moved on him, with the hope that he'd eventually show up in range. He would start my way and shut up, then he'd gobble again twenty minutes later from a different spot further away. After about four hours of this he shut up, and I didn't hear him again. I stayed there, hidden in a depression in front of a stump for probably another hour, straining to hear something, anything. Nothing. I decided to call it quits for the morning, and noticed that the ground around me was covered with leeks. I found a stout stick, and started digging. If I wasn't going to have turkey for dinner, at least I'd have some fresh leeks. I had just about what I wanted for dinner, when I got the feeling that somebody was watching me. I slowly looked to my left towards the stump I'd called from about 25 yards away, and there's the turkey, watching me on my knees digging in the dirt with a stick. My bow was laying on the ground next to me, but the turkey made tracks for a friendlier neighborhood when I reached for it. I'd almost swear he was smiling as he turned to run. That was the first time I called a bird into range by imitating a turkey scratching in the leaves. For some reason, those leeks didn't taste as good to me as they usually do.
Bob