Better Late Than Never

Tactics need to change for hunters to be successful with wary late-season ducks.

The rhythmic whistle of mallard wings slicing bits of air from the sky could be heard as they nervously circled high above. Too high. They weren’t completely sold on what they were seeing below, but they were willing to make another pass to take a closer look.

“Keep your head down,” I whispered to my son. “Don’t look up. Don’t move; they’re swinging around. Don’t show your face. If you have to look, peek from under the bill of your cap.”

Don’t-don’t-don’t — is it any wonder kids want to grow up fast, I thought to myself. My “don’t list” seemed to be three times as long as my “do list.”

“Shhh, don’t make any noise,” I continued.

I could see my son was as uncomfortable as I was from getting really small in our boat blind. I limited my calling to quiet chuckles, trying to coax them closer. There was no need to hail them. One, possibly two more passes, and these guys would be ours

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