Reminiscing of hunting in days past

Successful duck hunters as the south zone opened on Thanksgiving day are Hunter Rhea, Webb City,left, and Matt Newman, Jasper. ( photo by John Farris)

Nevada Daily Mail

When I was a kid growing up, I loved winter. There was snow to sled and ride on, rabbits, quail and ducks to hunt. Frozen feet, numb hands and a dripping nose were no problem. It started on November 10, when the quail season opened and there were plenty of them to hunt, the same with rabbits. The ducks had started to move into our area and hunting them was no problem.

Those were the days before all the insulated clothing and boots. It never seemed too cold to go hunting and the snow was never too deep to flush a covey of quail, find rabbits hiding in cover or jump shooting mallards on a creek.

John Farris, Carl Junction, with his dog and ducks as the south zone duck hunting season opened on Thanksgiving day.

Although, both quail and rabbit numbers have declined since "the good old days," the duck population this year looks nearly as good as back then. The duck season that opened in the south zone on Thanksgiving day holds promise for area hunters. Winter weather has pushed birds south and the build-up of mallards in places like Grand Pass Conservation Area is now holding a quarter million ducks that will be heading our way.

It reminds me of some of the good hunting back in the late 1950s when it wasn't hard to fool the ducks that came our way. Hunting with two friends, John Benjamin and Glen Atkinson, we hunted old cornfields, small streams and potholes near the Missouri River and rarely came home without ducks.

We opened the duck season at Fountain Grove several times and on one opener, we had one of the best hunts ever. We only used a dozen mallard decoys, but that was all we needed. Before shooting time, the ducks were talking and flying, which made starting time take forever it seemed.

Daisy, John Farris's yellow retriever, brings in a mallard.

When it was finally time, a pair of mallards approached our blind. Glen didn't see the second duck, so when I shot and hit the bird it fell on his right shoulder causing him to fall into the blind. Stunned, he got up saying, " I thought the sky was falling." After that start,the ducks kept flying. Although our duck calling wasn't very good, the birds would circle our meager spread, cup their wings and drop in. It didn't take long before we had our limit, then we just sat in the blind watching and listening to the ducks wishing we had brought a camera. It was one of those duck days that you never forget.

Opening day was always something special. There were days when we might not see a duck in the blue sky, but there were also days like the one mentioned above. Duck hunting gets into your blood, it's a strong addiction.

Ducks are odd creatures, I have observed that they have a habit of returning season after season, to the same pot holes and ponds where, for some reason, they have formed the habit of dropping in when the full fall flight is going on. A hunter, if he is a good sportsman and he happens to be fortunate as to be hunting a region where other hunters are not too troublesome and plentiful, can depend on, to a certain extent, for steady shooting. For years having hunted ducks with this idea ever in mind, that old flocks of mallards would be back at some particular time to revisit a certain sheltered pool or pond of water in the area.

I still am able to find a fairly good days shooting now and then in the same old sections where ducks were expected to disappear 30 or more years ago. The reasons I find ducks is because I hunt on the theory that ducks are essentially a bird of strong inborn habits. Once a flock of mallards drops down in a brush-sheltered pond or settles on a wide and friendly pool in some part of a river or creek where they can rest and feed to a reasonable extent and are not gunned completely out of existence, it is a safe guess to make that the following year, at about the same time, that flock of mallards, or their progeny will return to rest up there at the same period of another year's flight.

To prove this assumption, I told my hunting friend, John Benjamin, as the middle zone opened. " I am going to take you down to a spot where there is a flock of mallards due one of these days real soon."

We had hunted together for more than 10 seasons, but I had never taken him to this special spot. It just happened that the recollection of the spot popped into my head that day.

There are so many places where an old-time duck hunter has to go on that first morning of the season that it is difficult to settle on one spot. I had a lesson to teach and I knew of no better place to hold the test than right down the road at the place that is hidden by a growth of scrubby oak timber surrounding a half-acre pond.

"What kind of ducks do you think we will find there?" Johnny asked. "That depends" I replied 'If the oaks are ripe enough they will be mallards, the kind we are looking for. If not, maybe we can get a teal or two.""

Apparently, we had been a little late. Johnny called my attention to a dark spot that swam in front of our blind. It was a lone mallard that had stolen-in, probably had passed high overhead back of us and dropped trough the trees in the shadows. " There will be a flock of them," I said. About that time, it started. A flock of mallards sailed with set wings heading right towards us. We just had time to rise and shove the safety catches off when they banked and fanned out in front of us. The first shot sent a greenhead into a spiraling plunge. Another duck was passing lower and it too fell on the second shot. Other ducks had fallen, Johnny's gun was blasting the air nearby. Four mallards out of the first flock was rather exceptional. It was a sight to remember to see that flock with set wings over our decoys right into our gun barrels.

Things we have noticed when duck hunting include that, when nothing is happening, you might go outside the blind to adjust the decoys and as soon as you step into the water without your gun, ducks will sail over you. Or when you take time to pour some hot coffee from your thermos, you hear the sound of wings overhead you grab your gun, shoot and miss. That's all part of duck hunting, it goes with the territory and keeps duck hunters coming back the next season.