Odd Observations

While checking trap sites one afternoon, I noted turkey activity at a bait site. I happened to be eating an orange and inadvertently dropped an orange peel near the baited spot. Based on the turkeys using the site two days in a row, I set up a rocket net before daylight the next day and waited for the birds to arrive. In the early afternoon, a half dozen or so jakes entered the field and headed for the bait. Anticipating a capture, I was ready to fire when they began to feed on the bait. Instead, one of the jakes picked up the orange peel and made off with it. The rest of the gang began to chase after him, all wanting to be the one with the bright orange object. They spent the next 30 minutes fighting over who deserved to carry the orange peel and never went back to the bait. After they left, I retrieved the peel, and the next day banded all six birds.

One afternoon while awaiting the arrival of a flock of hens and jakes to a baited site, I saw the birds enter the far corner of the field. They knew where the baited trap site was but were taking their time approaching it. The birds were on the north end of a narrow picked cornfield perhaps 150 yards long and 50 yards wide. A coyote entered the south end of the field and began a sneak to get close to the turkeys. There were 25 turkeys, and they quickly noticed the coyote but seemed to ignore it. When the coyote reached the point where a rushed attack was imminent, the birds lifted off and flew to the south end of the field. They were not overly alarmed but did not head for the trap site. Instead, they scratched and picked at waste corn in the field as the coyote made a second stalk toward them. When the coyote rushed them, they repeated their short flight to the north end of the field. The exchange was repeated three or four times before the birds tired of the game and left the field with the coyote on their trail. He probably never got close to them.

During a hot spell one September, a farmer called about wild turkeys that appeared to be disoriented and sick. It was almost dark and the farmer captured four of the birds by hand and placed them in his empty corn crib. I arrived early the next morning to find only one bird in the crib. The farmer advised me that the other birds were more alert and escaped when he opened the door. The remaining bird was still disoriented and could hardly walk. We were concerned about potential disease issues so I placed the bird in a transport box and met with our agency wildlife pathologist. The bird was a young jake. We sacrificed the jake to collect specimens of its organs and blood for disease and parasite testing. Oddly enough, all the organs appeared to be perfectly normal, including the brain. Samples were taken for further analysis. The bird’s crop was packed full of black cherries. When the pathologist analyzed the bird’s blood, its blood alcohol level was above the legal limit! The bird was legally intoxicated. We speculated that the hot sun baked the cherries, and their thick skin allowed the fruit to ferment within the cherry. The whole flock must have been under the influence.

Most of us have seen the insurance company advertisement featuring an emu fighting with its image in a storefront window. That is not an unusual behavior for birds. They have no concept of three dimensions, and an image in a mirror or large window seems real enough to pick a fight with. In a typical wild turkey flock, there are constant skirmishes to see who should rule the roost. When a wild turkey, a cardinal, an emu or a chickadee observes its image in a mirror, the tendency is to challenge the image to a duel. I have seen this behavior in wild turkeys, ruffed grouse and songbirds.

In their everyday travels, wild turkeys change course to walk around obstacles or fly over them. Anyone who has ever tried to live-capture wild turkeys knows that all capture equipment needs to be carefully camouflaged or the turkeys will panic instead of contentedly feeding on the baited trap site. More than once, I have seen an old hen notice the wire leading to a rocket net and proceed to have a hissy fit. Turkey trappers carefully cover the wire with leaves, grass or snow depending on local conditions. We are not talking a thick cable here, only a simple lamp wire or doorbell cable. On one occasion I had a flock of 14 or 15 hens coming to bait regularly enough to assure a capture. I needed six hens to achieve the number of radio-tagged turkeys I needed for my study. I had 39 marked already. The net was in place and the lead wire covered, but a brisk breeze uncovered portions of the wire. After a wait of several hours, the flock appeared at the edge of the woods heading for the bait. One of the hens spied the exposed part of the wire and began pacing and alarm putting, the usual behavior when they don’t like something. The rest of the flock joined in. All you need is one to jump or fly over the wire. The rest would follow, but no one was willing. They disappeared back into the woods. About three hours later they came back, this time on the far end of the hidden rocket net where there was no wire. Fortunately for me, they walked out into the field acting very warily, but they ventured toward the bait. I fired and captured 10 hens – more than I needed for the study. It only took nine hours in the blind!

Send your questions and photos/videos to Dr. Tom by emailing turkeycall@nwtf.net.