There were three of us in the small musty cabin. Steve and Al slept on the bunk beds while I lay on the floor bundled up in my sleeping bag. It was cold and wet outside. There was barely enough room to bring all of our gear in out of the rain. There was no electricity in our primitive abode, so if it weren't for Al's heater we might have had a rough night. However, the warmth of the heater coupled with the sound of the rain and sleet on the roof made the environment conducive for a deep sleep.
Our peaceful slumber was rudely disturbed by the sound of my wind up alarm ringing at 5:30 AM. It is annoying enough that I knew we couldn't sleep through it. The cabin was dark, but the heater gave just enough light for me to find the snooze button! Outside the rain had picked up to a torrential down pour. The gentle tapping on the roof had given way to a sound of a bath tub faucet! I was comfortable, warm and dry all curled up in my sleeping bag. I have to admit. I did not want to get up.
I heard Steve's voice in the dark, "Oh my God! Do you hear that?" Next was the distinct sound of Al's laughter. "I am going to stay right here!", I announced with a groan, followed by a chorus of chuckling from the bunk beds. "Ducks won't fly in this crap will they?" Steve was probing for answers. "Hell no!", Al's answer was immediate through a chuckle. "I'll tell ya what though", the elder statesman continued, "Between showers they'll fly!" "Do you think its worth leaving this nice warm cabin?" was my intellectual comment, to which Steve immediately laughed. "Not for me, but you guys could get some really good shootin'! "I was almost hoping for a different answer from the most experienced member of our expedition. "What do you want to do, Bill?" I heard Steve reluctantly ask from the top bunk. He did not seem any more eager to go out in that weather than I did. Our discussion went back and forth, "What do you want to do?" each of us trying to entice the other into making a decision. Steve was the first one to hop out of bed. The call of mother nature won out. He had to find the "little hunter's bush" as there was no plumbing or out buildings.
Since Steve got up I figured I had better, so I fired up the Coleman stove and began to fill the tiny cabin with the aroma of bacon and eggs. Al's health was not the best, so he opted to stay indoors. I put a pot of water on for coffee, and suited up for the monsoon. "Steve and I encouraged each other with words like, "Well, we came all the way out here. We might as well hunt!" We walked down to the water's edge and found the boat where we left it. Our habit was to row out to onto the private lake and set out the decoys the night before. By this time the rain had slowed to a gentle shower, but by the time we tied the boat to the blind it had turned to sleet.
Steve and I sat in the mixture of rain and sleet for over an hour without the remotest indication that we shared that county with a single bird of any kind! As we lamented the fact that we left a nice warm comfortable bed to sit out in the mess, the rain slowed and stopped. As if Al could actually predict the future, it was at that instant that a flock of buffleheads appeared out of nowhere. We swung through the birds and fired .Two of my three shots found their mark, and four butterballs splashed down hard as the rest of the group rocketed down the lake. At that point we were quite pleased that we had taken the senior hunter's advice and brave the elements. No sooner did we return to our blind, birds in hand, than the rain returned with vengeance. After about forty five minutes of that, we decided that Al must be inside laughing his behind off at the two idiots sitting through the deluge. Believe it or not, the rain stopped and birds appeared again! This time is was a ringneck flock that descended on our collection of fake fowl, this aggregate actually included a wayward bluebill drake in their number. Although we considered ourselves astute ornithologists of the waterfowl variety, we discovered this fact posthumously. A pair of his relatives soon joined him. I was surprised to see so many divers on a twenty five acre lake, but it was late November. I believe the close proximity to a large body of water was also a contributing factor. A small flock of mallards did grace us with their presence between rain showers. The green headed duo allowed us to complete our daily bag limit, and added some excellent table fare as well.
When the day was done we had to admit that it was a pleasurable hunt, although miserable at the same time. I remember my mother saying, "Listen to your elders!". On this day, it really paid off!
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