It's not hard to bag a fat fall tom if you know how. Malcolm Nieman -- formerly a kangaroo hunter in Australia -- shot this Ellis County bird with a little help from the author. It was the London shotgunner's first North American wild turkey. Photo by Bob Bledsoe.

The last two fall-season turkeys I killed were so easy that I almost felt guilty.

In both cases, I knew where the birds were roosting and the approximate routes that at least a few of the birds would take to their daytime feeding and loafing areas.

All I had to do was get up early, go sit in a clump of brush near the travel route but several hundred yards from the roost itself, and wait until a good tom strolled past.

I wouldn't even have had to wait for a male, because it's legal to take a hen turkey in the fall season in several counties, including the one where I hunted. But in both cases I didn't have to wait long for a respectable turkey to show his snood in front of my hiding spot. A pop from my dad's old Model 97 Winchester "thumb-buster" pump with a 32-inch full-choke barrel was all it took to bag Thanksgiving dinner.

I'd like to claim that such easy hunting is the result of my skills and prowess as a woodsman. But the truth is, I was really lucky to have a hunting spot where there were lots of turkeys and where I knew the birds' daily routine. Anyone who can sit still for a few minutes and raise a shotgun shoulder-high could have killed those birds just as easily.

That's the great thing about fall turkey hunting: It can be so easy! There's no tomfoolery about it (no pun intended, I assure you). You don't even have to call a bird to you if you have an idea where they travel.

I wish that were true in every county in the state -- but it isn't. Counties populated by eastern wild turkeys can provide much tougher hunts than the counties inhabited by the Rio Grande birds. And the northwestern counties that have such huge populations of turkeys can provide much easier hunting than the more sparsely populated ones. But even in the tougher counties, the hunting can be much easier in the fall than in the spring.

I started hunting turkeys in the 1970s and I had a real streak of beginner's luck.

To take my first two springtime gobblers I merely strolled into the woods and sat down and yelped with a diaphragm call. Both times I got immediate answers from gobblers and both times I got my bird in 45 minutes or less.

My first fall bird, though, was tougher. I had read several articles that advised startling a flock of birds to break them up, then sitting down and calling softly to bring them back together. So that's what I did.

I could see a small group of turkeys moving through a clearing, probably 150 yards or more away. I yelped and purred. One hen yelped back at me but the birds didn't come any closer. They were moving out of sight and sound, so I stood up and ran toward the birds and scared them away. Then I sat down near the clearing and called some more. The birds never came back.

That was in the morning. I got my bird that afternoon by hiding in a spot that was, more or less, on the path that I had seen the birds traveling in the morning. I hoped they would take the same route back to the roost in the evening, and they did.

That was the last time I ever intentionally spooked a flock of turkeys while hunting. I don't recommend it.

To me, the key to successful turkey hunting in the fall -- it's not bad advice in the springtime either -- is to scout your birds ahead of time. At least spend some time locating a roost and observing from afar with binoculars to see which direction and what route the bulk of the turkeys take when they leave.

Turkeys may change their behavior suddenly, especially if there's a big storm or a big change in the weather. But usually they are creatures of habit. They typically fly down to the same spot and take the same route away from the roost, day after day, for weeks at a time.