Several years ago, back at Indian Lake, we had an unusual day. I was hunting with my Father and my old high school hunting partner Dennis Chaney. We had a good blind on Oldfield Island at the west end of the lake. A friend of Dad's had suggested we get that blind because of an increasing number of Canada Geese using our lake, particularly down in that area. Turned out to be a better duck shooting location than we had imagined.
Anyhow, mid-morning we had a small flock of 5 Ringnecks turn toward our decoys. They came right in until the last second and flared unexpectedly. When they flared they went right into the sun, just as Dennis and I both shot. The ducks disappeared and we thought they flew directly away from us into the sun because we never saw them again. It was fairly calm, but after a minute or so my Dad said to look out in the decoys and there floated a dead Ringneck. When I got out to work the dog I could see another, then another and then I could see all 5 of them. All of them on their backs, stone dead, feet in the air. We were surprised, to say the least. Neither of us really admitted to 'flock shooting', it was just that the ducks knotted up tight just as we lost them in the sun and each of us fired our one shot. Pretty neat.
An hour or so later we heard geese. Looked all over for them and finally saw a flock of 7 Canadas sitting on the water a thousand yards away. We started calling as loud as we could and one of them seemed to answer us from time to time. After a half hour or so, we saw one of them take off and fly right toward us. We kept calling and sat tight and the bird landed just on the edge of shooting range. It called a couple more times and the rest of the flock picked up and came to the decoys. They didn't land but gave us a decent enough pass that all 3 of us got one. After I shot my goose, I turned to look for the one that had landed and it was just getting off the water so I shot at it twice and seemed to hit it both times but it kept going. Oh well, we each had a goose. The last bird never caught up with the other 3, it fell dead about 250 yards out in front of the blind. Dad went out in the boat to pick it up and before he could get there the remaining 3 geese landed with the dead one. They flew when the boat got close and came pretty near getting shot as they flew past our decoys. Instead of leaving, as they should have, they landed on the island a few hundred yards from our blind. When Dad got back we discussed our strategy. We decided that Dennis and I would attempt to sneak up on them, even though there was no cover. Dad took the boat around to the far end of the island to maybe get a shot as they flew away from us.
We gave Dad about 5 minutes to get down there and then began our stalk. We walked, then hunkered down, then eventually crawled on all fours trying to get close enough. When they started to get too nervous we stood up and let them have it. We killed 2 of them and badly crippled the last one. We had emptied our guns and just had to stand and watch as the badly shot-up bird slowly flew away down the island. We had lost sight of it when we heard a single shot. The bird had flown directly over my Dad as he sat in the boat up against the shore.
7 out of 7.
I guess the moral of the story is that it's better to be lucky than to be good. We didn't shoot all that well, didn't do anything all that well. But we had 2 passes and none got away.
Anyhow, mid-morning we had a small flock of 5 Ringnecks turn toward our decoys. They came right in until the last second and flared unexpectedly. When they flared they went right into the sun, just as Dennis and I both shot. The ducks disappeared and we thought they flew directly away from us into the sun because we never saw them again. It was fairly calm, but after a minute or so my Dad said to look out in the decoys and there floated a dead Ringneck. When I got out to work the dog I could see another, then another and then I could see all 5 of them. All of them on their backs, stone dead, feet in the air. We were surprised, to say the least. Neither of us really admitted to 'flock shooting', it was just that the ducks knotted up tight just as we lost them in the sun and each of us fired our one shot. Pretty neat.
An hour or so later we heard geese. Looked all over for them and finally saw a flock of 7 Canadas sitting on the water a thousand yards away. We started calling as loud as we could and one of them seemed to answer us from time to time. After a half hour or so, we saw one of them take off and fly right toward us. We kept calling and sat tight and the bird landed just on the edge of shooting range. It called a couple more times and the rest of the flock picked up and came to the decoys. They didn't land but gave us a decent enough pass that all 3 of us got one. After I shot my goose, I turned to look for the one that had landed and it was just getting off the water so I shot at it twice and seemed to hit it both times but it kept going. Oh well, we each had a goose. The last bird never caught up with the other 3, it fell dead about 250 yards out in front of the blind. Dad went out in the boat to pick it up and before he could get there the remaining 3 geese landed with the dead one. They flew when the boat got close and came pretty near getting shot as they flew past our decoys. Instead of leaving, as they should have, they landed on the island a few hundred yards from our blind. When Dad got back we discussed our strategy. We decided that Dennis and I would attempt to sneak up on them, even though there was no cover. Dad took the boat around to the far end of the island to maybe get a shot as they flew away from us.
We gave Dad about 5 minutes to get down there and then began our stalk. We walked, then hunkered down, then eventually crawled on all fours trying to get close enough. When they started to get too nervous we stood up and let them have it. We killed 2 of them and badly crippled the last one. We had emptied our guns and just had to stand and watch as the badly shot-up bird slowly flew away down the island. We had lost sight of it when we heard a single shot. The bird had flown directly over my Dad as he sat in the boat up against the shore.
7 out of 7.
I guess the moral of the story is that it's better to be lucky than to be good. We didn't shoot all that well, didn't do anything all that well. But we had 2 passes and none got away.
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