Mallards in the Snow

We have have had an unusually slow migration in central Ohio, so we went back to our favorite fields near the Ohio River in eastern Ohio. We were not disappointed,  yes the mallards were there. Twice in two weeks we shot our limit of mallards. A few black ducks were bagged as well.

There were so many birds that the entertaining part of the trip was picking out green heads. In Ohio we are allowed four mallards and only one may be a hen. The truth is we prefer to shoot drakes anyway, but an occasional hen does find its way into the freezer.  Our first 5 birds of the early morning were all drakes. This prompted my buddy, Randy, to spout off, "OK, there are plenty of birds so lets not drop any hens! Green heads only! Black ducks are permitted."

No sooner did he say that but the sun peeked out from behind the the hill right in our face! The wind was at our back so we were looking into the sunrise as the birds were forced to land into a stiff West wind! A few minutes later another flock of ducks came coasting in from way up. They looked like unsuspecting paratroopers planning to join their ground forces! With the sunlight streaming in from behind them, they looked like flying black silhouettes. I could not distinguish one from another. I thanked my friend for jinxing us with his comment. He said that he could tell them apart and not to worry. I said something like, OK wise guy, why didn't you shoot?

About that time another flock descended into our fakes. There had to be twenty five in the flock. Randy said, "Do you see that group of three that broke off from the rest? I could see the birds that he was referring to, but I still could not make out any difference from one duck to the next. they all looked black! Randy said, the third one back is a drake its on the right now. Wait it switched, its in the middle, now its on the right, follow it!" I felt like I was playing a shell game. Here I was, lying in the mud and snow with the wind trying to send chills down my back. All the while I am trying to lay still and pick out ducks that I can't distinguish.  I followed Randy's drake and it suddenly banked. I instinctively sat up and shot! The bird folded up and pummeled to the ground like it is scripted. The dog quickly ran over and retrieved it. It was a hen! "Nice call, Eagle Eye! You couldn't see'm either!" Randy insisted that he was basing his evaluation on the fact that this was a bigger duck so it had to be a drake. (So much for that theory!)

Before we could discuss this any further, two ducks coasted in. We both took one shot. Gunner brought back my drake and Hunter brought back Eagle Eye's hen. Another great day of waterfowling ended, and more stories are available for ammunition on the next hunt!