Hiding Birds

As I have confessed to, I do sometimes shoot over the limit. Again, it is just sort of my way of balancing out for the days I don't get to hunt, and to 'correct' errors that the FWS may have made in setting the limits. Back at Indian Lake we occasionally made what we referred to as "meat runs". If we happened to get a limit of a certain species and there were plenty more to shoot, we would take birds back into the cottage and to the landing where we had launched and store them in the car. Never to a point of being game hogs. For example, on a nearby lake a resident flock of Canada Geese was being established. Well, to ensure that the Refuge Manager looked good on paper so he could get his Federal funding, they cut our Goose limit to one bird in 4 or 5 surrounding counties. We didn't have any captive flock at Indian Lake, ours were mostly migratory birds. So when we got that rare flock of geese over the decoys it really was hard to stop at one bird. When the limit was 2 we never shot over the limit, but just shooting one bird was asking too much.

Then there were the years that we were on the 'points system'. The point values of the various birds seemed always geared to get the rich shooting clubs on Lake Erie the best deal. Pintails at 10 points and Ringnecks at 35 points, for example, in 1974. That was totally wrong for the rest of the state, but took care of the rich people. We pretty much totally disregarded the law that year. We had more Ringnecks at Indian Lake that year than we had all other ducks combined, so we shot them, and never stopped shooting them. Same type of a deal on Redheads and Canvasbacks. Right within the Mississippi Flyway other states could shoot 4, but they were 100 point ducks for us. Kill one duck and be finished for the day. Not likely. I never quite reached a 1000 points in a day, but came close a few times.

In my lifetime there have been plenty of Wood Ducks. Maybe 70 years ago they were threatened, but not in my life. But the limit has historically been low. All the work involved in finding a Wood Duck hole, and getting in and out of it merits more than just a couple birds. The big problem with hiding Wood Ducks is that you have to go all the way back into the swamp to bring them out.

I can also remember that in 1969 Ohio limited us to one Mallard. The rest of the entire free world had 4-5 Mallards that year. Situations like that will make a poacher out of an otherwise honest hunter. We ran out tank after tank of boat gas, making meat runs with our 'legal' limit of Mallards.

That past 30 years down here in North Carolina have seen similar situations. I think North Carolina is historically known as the baiting and overshooting capital of the world. So, we are doomed to pay for that for the rest of our lives. Even though "we" weren't alive in the hay day of the violating. First they took away our Wood Ducks, setting the limit at 2. Just this past year it went back up to 3. Still not right. They took our Bluebills from 7 down to 2. Actually down to one for the first 2/3's of the season. Closed Canvasbacks all but a couple years out of the past 30 years, and gave us one bird the years it was open. 1-2 Redheads. Sure we can fill a limit with Gadwall or Wigeon. Some years, if you have access to the right places you can kill Gadwall and Wigeon in good numbers, but I have personally never known a man to kill a 6 bird limit of either one here in NC.

One time up on Mouse Harbor I honestly made a mistake on a hen Canvasback. She was flying with a flock of Scoter (?). We had to go back into the public ramp and many times a Warden was there to check your birds. I devised this foolproof plan to put the duck inside my waders. I set it right in the crotch area of my waders and thought I was good to go. Soon as we got to the landing I made a big show of taking the dog to the truck. While I was there I quickly slipped out of my waders and into my regular boots. All the while I was within 20 yards of the Warden. Feeling pretty clever, I backed the trailer up to recover the boat and got out and talked to the Warden and the other hunters. When we got ready to leave, McGee was about to burst with laughter. I thought he was just proud of me for fooling the Warden, but then he said "Look at your hunting pants". I looked down and saw that the entire crotch and seat were blood stained. McGee joked that the Warden must have thought it was my time of the month :-)

I think I've already told about the 'hollow log' on the shore behind the Hospital Point blind.

When I watch 200,000 Bluebills fly by me in a day (that is the absolute truth) and the Feds allow me 1 or 2 birds, it just isn't going to happen. Oh yes, some days I go to all the pains to set up and kill my 2 Bluebills. Actually, a lot of days. But you give me a decent Winter storm, and Bluebills in numbers that the Feds absolutely deny exist and I will 'make up' for the 2 bird days.

I remember slipping up the bank behind the blind one day with a dozen Bluebills on a duck strap, looking for a likely place to hide them. Just when I thought I was completely safe and hidden from sight, I took one more step and a covey of about 20 Quail exploded from under my feet. My bowels nearly exploded simultaneously.

Another day, we had a freak Winter storm and shot a few too many. We would fill one of our leather duck straps with 12 birds and find a place along the shore to stash them. Finally, I stopped to sort of size up the day and realized that we had shot 3-4 boxes of shells, worked the dog over and over again, had 3 different stashes of ducks along the river shore, but not a single duck in the blind. That would have been hard to explain.

Another day, my son Mike and I were hunting and Matt Horne came out to join us. The boys were both about 16 and they were having the best day of their lives up till that point. (Maybe still the best day they have had.) Matt said he had to get going, so I told him he could shoot the last 2 birds of our "limit" if he would take all the birds home with him when he left. He killed a double on the next pass so we followed up on our deal. When I threw the last full duck strap on his shoulder, his knees buckled from the weight of all the ducks. I told him he had 5 minutes to get to his truck and get out of there before Mike and I started shooting again. He grinned and staggered up the bank, turned back and gave us a wave as he disappeared from sight.

Another time up on Mouse Harbor, Whit and I were having a pretty bad week. Just a couple or 3 birds a day. Then on Wednesday all hell broke loose. Whit was down the shore from the blind hiding limits of Bills and then peppering them down. We kept on shooting until he had enough limits to fill out the rest of the week. Lucky for us he did that because we hardly saw another duck all week, but came in with a limit each day. We had the rest of the hunters talking to themselves for the rest of the season, wondering why we were having such good luck.

Whit and I went out to the Goose Creek Impoundment one time during the early season. The place was virtually covered in Blue Wing Teal. We had a great shoot, but it only lasted for about a half an hour. My last bird came from behind and I jumped on it really fast and literally blew it into 2 pieces. Completely ruined the bird. I decided I wasn't going to go home one shy of the limit so I discarded that destroyed bird and shot another one. Whit was competitive enough that he couldn't stand it that I had shot one more bird than him, so he knocked down the next bird that came by; a hen Shoveler. I told him that was a lot of risk for a terrible table bird, but he said not to worry. We had ridden out to the impoundment with some friends of Whit's that had a big boat. They had hunted separately, but we were traveling together. Whit stuck the 'extra' Shoveler in an ammo can they had in the front of the boat and we headed over to pick them up. Sure enough a Warden stopped us. He climbed into the boat with us and checked out gear and our birds. Then he asked what was in all the ammo cans in the front of the boat. Whit said it wasn't our boat so he didn't know. The Warden started methodically checking about 2 dozen ammo cans. Each one was full of fishing tackle, but he kept on checking. When he had one can left (the can with the Shoveler in it) he said he'd seen enough and climbed back out of the boat. Only Whit could have been that lucky.

Out at Hospital Point one time I had decided to fire away at Canvasbacks. It was the last day of the season and I had watched thousands fly by that year and not shot any. Well, I should have remembered from previous years that the Warden always stopped by on the last day of the season, but never thought of it. McGee hadn't killed any Cans because he did remember. Sure enough here comes the Warden. I kicked the Cans up against the front wall of the blind and jumped out to help the Warden hold his boat. It was a fairly rough day and he was fighting the wind trying to hold his boat in position. McGee showed him our guns and licenses and all our Bluebills. The Warden kept trying to look over the front of the blind to check it out for himself. Each time he leaned forward I would bounce his boat and he would teeter on the gunwale and start to lose his balance. I finally told him I couldn't hold the boat steady any longer and he said "Thanks" and went on his way.

I haven't made a habit of shooting over the limit, but there have been, and probably will be some more days that we have to hide a few birds. They all end up on my supper table, so I feel no guilt or remorse. Just because I am not a "rich man" and can't buy the laws or the law enforcement personnel doesn't make me a poor sportsman. Enough said.