We were five minutes into shooting light, and, as expected, the ducks were flying well. I huddled against the dead swamp tree, trying to stay concealed from the ducks’ roaming eyes overhead. So far, none had been in comfortable shooting range, including the ones that landed in the flooded swamp we were hunting. Perhaps I was being a bit too picky, but I knew with the action we were seeing, it was only a matter of time before a group of birds flew into range.
Sure enough, only minutes later, a small group of woodies coasted over the trees toward us. I knew this was my opportunity and watched with anticipation, knowing that, in a second, my clean gun barrel was about to become dirty.
As they came into range, I threw up the gun barrel and focused on one bird in the middle of the group. Sighting down on him, I pulled the trigger, sending a cloud of steel his way. Just as fast as the gun’s kick was over, I turned my attention to locating him again. It was easy to find him – he was falling toward the ground in an uncontrolled nose-dive, clearly hit well. His fall was interrupted by the branches of a nearby tree, and, after being caught for a second, he tumbled from the lofty top of the tree and landed with a thud in a patch of grass and burs.
I immediately turned my attention away from him and back to the hunt. The ducks were still flying well, and I didn’t want to miss any more of the action. While my thought process was logical, it turned out to be a fatal mistake to my success.
Ten minutes later, after the action had slowed to a crawl without another shot, I went to retrieve my duck, fully expecting to find him lying right underneath the tree he had fallen from. To my surprise, he was not underneath the tree. To my further surprise, he was nowhere near the tree.
My cameraman soon joined me in looking for the bird. Combing the area thoroughly did not turn up the duck, even after searching the same area several times. We ended up empty handed after a quarter of an hour looking, disappointed at the situation and what we thought was a successful hunt.
Upon a short conference with a duck hunting friend of mine, I learned that my decision to leave the duck laying in the grass was a foolish one. We speculated that the duck, although appearing to be lethally wounded, had been able to make it to a small creek about 20 yards behind us. From a logical standpoint, immediately retrieving the duck would have been a waste of time, considering its nose-dive crash landing. In fact, it could have hurt our success, considering that moving from our setup may have spooked ducks that would have flown into range. All that is true, from a theoretical point of view. I, unwisely, heeded this counsel in my mind. As a result, I was rewarded with nothing. The duck that I was so sure was dead just 25 yards from where we were instead managed to make it to a creek and float away, presumably to die.
As an ethical outdoorsman, I hate to recall these stories in which I was not able to complete a harvest. I understand that, at times, these scenarios unfold rather unfortunately, but a sportsman must take all precaution necessary to avoid wounding a game bird or animal without recovering it. In this case, my poor decision led to such an unwanted outcome.
So remember this rule – when you are duck hunting and you shoot a bird, immediately retrieve it. I understand there are scenarios in which this is not necessary (for instance, when you can confirm with your eyes from where you are that the duck is indeed mortally wounded and cannot escape), but make certain that you do not assume as I did in the above-described story. Even if you must ruin future opportunities for your hunting success, make it the top priority to retrieve the bird immediately.