Judas The Chicken & How He Betrayed His Gobbler Buddies

The author has a chicken named Judas to thank for helping him roll a big Ben Hill County gobbler back in 2013.

On a cool, crisp November morning in 1972, a father and his two sons patiently follow two fine setters as they skirt the bottom edge of a tall pine ridge in northern Ben Hill County.  As the older of the two dogs comes to a screeching halt, the younger dog knows to follow suit, and a picture worthy of an artist’s canvas is frozen right before the hunter’s eyes. Two steps into the wiregrass and the sky is full of beating wings and loud cackles. The experienced hunters know to only take the male birds as they look for those long, black tail feathers before pulling the trigger. When the smoke clears and two fine retrieves are made, the boys ask their dad to take a picture. The now-faded Polaroid shows two proud sons as they hold two fine birds known as the Burmese Jungle Fowl.

At least that’s how it was supposed to work.

In the late 1960s, the Georgia Department of Natural Resources came up with an idea to introduce a new game bird to the state.  This would be Georgia’s version of pheasant hunting, which had become very popular out West. The Burmese Jungle Fowl is just a small, fast chicken, with the male species being vibrant with color and long tail feathers, and the female species being perfectly ordinary in dull shades of brown and black. A group of birds were released in northern Ben Hill County near the Ocmulgee River, and the rest of the story is now part of the history and heritage of Fitzgerald.

Those birds didn’t like country life very much and decided it was much safer to move to the city and live on the brick paved streets of my hometown. For the past 50 years, Fitzgerald has been the home of The Fitzgerald Wild Chickens.

It was a recreational hunting project that didn’t quite work but has brought some notoriety to our small town. Our chickens have been featured in many news stories throughout the years, including a front-page feature in the Wall Street Journal. We have learned to celebrate our feathered friends living among us and have The Wild Chicken Festival each spring. They can also cause some headaches as they scratch up flower beds and crow at all hours of the night. The wing shooter in me wishes they would have flourished in the wild, so I would have had something else to chase, but I can also appreciate the uniqueness that they have brought to our downtown area and their transition to city life for survival.

What does all of this have to do with turkey hunting? The spring of 2013 will always be one of my favorite turkey seasons for one simple reason.  That was the year of Judas. My dad and I started getting trail-camera pictures of a group of turkeys toward the end of deer season. Among the group of gobblers and hens was a Fitzgerald wild chicken rooster. To this day we have no idea how he got there, as we are 10 miles outside of town, but we figured he was in good company if he was hanging out with a group of turkeys.

Week after week, he would show up in pictures, preferring to hang out with the gobblers. I made the comment to my dad that we should name him Judas because he was going to betray his buddies this spring. He gave me a funny look but understood when I explained myself. Turkeys do not always gobble on a spring morning, but living in Fitzgerald has taught us one thing about our Jungle Fowl friends… they crow! All the time!

Opening day of the 2013 turkey season did not start out very well. Early morning thunderstorms made seeking shelter a top priority as I sat with a cup of coffee looking for a possible break in the weather. That break would come around mid-morning, and Dad and I made our way to the woods.

We decided to set up on a small pine hill that we have had success on before. “Kill Hill” was quiet when we arrived, so we eased in and put out some decoys in sight of a clump of bushes we used as a blind. We did some soft calling for a while until we were finally answered. It was not a gobbler at the other end of our call, but a loud thundering crow from our new friend Judas. We learned that Judas is somewhat of a socialite who enjoys the company of friends. If he hears you calling, he will always come to say hello. Judas was rapidly closing the distance, and as he came into view, my preseason prediction came true. He was dragging along behind him a longbeard, who was now putting on a display and drumming after he caught sight of our decoy setup. As Judas danced around the decoys, the gobbler came within range and one quick shot filled my first tag of the season. Judas left in a hurry as his buddy flopped around, and Dad and I had a good laugh.

That spring we either chased gobbling toms, or we chased Judas. Judas was called into our setup several times over the next few weeks, delivering one more gobbler to us and showing up by himself on more than one occasion. It was a sad day for us when Judas finally met his demise. Judas was the only answer to our calls that morning. As we waited for him to make his arrival, we heard him crow and then shortly afterward, we heard a panic cackle. No more crowing was heard that morning. I’m sure he made a fine meal for that bobcat or fox that finally caught up with him. Judas had been a good and faithful servant.

Fitzgerald’s famous wild chickens do not do well out in the countryside of Ben Hill County, but for a few short months, under the protection of a group of wild turkeys, Judas found a home. He would do exactly as predicted and honor his namesake with betrayal after betrayal, but I will always be grateful to Judas for the memories he provided to me and my dad in those turkey woods in 2013.

Judas, I miss you buddy!

If you would like to learn more about the famous Fitzgerald Wild Chickens, visit wildchickenfestival.com. This year’s festival is Saturday, March 15.