Evening Hunt
Grandpa txted at the close of the evening, “any ducks?” I couldn’t help but giggle as I relayed the message to Charlie. He giggled too.
We had played to the wind today, and rather than sitting in our familiar spot in the rice, we hunted the closer side of the lake nestling our decoys amidst a lily pad puddle that is difficult to find unless you’ve been there before.
Pushing the boat close to shore, I hopped out onto the bog and pulled our bow into the reeds. The sun was low and behind us, casting it's pallor across our puddle and the decoys in front of us. The tree line at our backs kept our little rig hidden from the shine and prying eyes.
It didn’t take long for the birds to appear, first it was the Mallards and while they were curious they were also weary, circling high above just out of range. Charlie would likely argue that they were well within range, nonetheless, it was exciting to see movement given a quiet couple of days.
A short time later, Charlie spied a pair of Wood ducks flying low from the channel of an adjoining lake. Having seen our decoys, the pair of Woodies locked on, making a beeline for our spread. With a quick arc they came in low and before we could even react they skidded across the waters surface.
Charlie and I rose to our feet as the two birds in front of us realized the ruse, starting to motion out of the pond we quickly dispatched the pair.
Moose was elated, and while she is a great retriever she is not very good at waiting for direction. Jumping out of the boat before being given the command, she peered back at me and the look of surprise on her face was palpable. “Get the birds”, I hollered after her.
She made quick work of them, and proving that she hates losing birds as much as I do, she brought back both the hen and the drake in a single retrieve. Charlie and I were giddy with a perfect retrieve and birds in hand.
The next hour or so proved to be equally exciting as the Mallards decided to come a little closer and the Woodies continued to consider that little patch of water their home. Throughout my years I’ve had very few opportunities to see and experience that much action.
At one point, Moose brought back a beautiful drake Woodie that I had hit. Charlie took one look at it and proclaimed "we have to get that mounted!" I told him we would mount a bird that he bags, “Daddy, that was a family bird!” The rest of the night Charlie did his best to preserve that bird, going so far as to put it in his duck bag. Suffice it to say, a family mount is in our near future.
It had been a great evening, likely one of the best that I've had the opportunity to hunt, and it was made that much more special being that I could share it with Charlie. Sunset quickly made way for darkness as we pushed out of the reeds with birds, a happy bog dog, and some fantastic memories all in hand.
