I’m an old deer hunter, not a duck hunter, but late one December I decided to give the sport a try. The first thing to do was locate ducks, so I planned a scouting trip to a nearby slew. Lucky me, I saw movement in the water when I got within sixty or seventy yards. Wood ducks! I got down on my hands and knees and started crawling that way. When I got within thirty or forty yards, I came to a wet spot and decided to shoot from there. I took careful aim, I think, and started blasting away. Some flew, some dove, and some died. When it was all over, I had one on the bank, one in the slew, and a third one that dove under and never came up. Go figure.
Here’s where my dilemma began. I had no way to retrieve a hen that was floating in the middle of that slew. I’m a firm believer in not wasting meat, so I took the only option available. I stripped off and started wading. I can’t begin to describe how cold that water felt. It made my feet hurt so bad that it felt like you like you were crushing them. By the time I grabbed that bird I was almost frantic with pain. When I made landfall, I threw that duck down, dried my poor feet, and perched on a tree root in the sun. Sorta like a big turtle on a log. The sight of me sunning would not be as picturesque as that of the turtle though. Let’s not dwell on that thought.
It's moments like this where I reflect on actions and consequences. First of all, was it worth it? I say yes, because I made the decision to shoot the duck, and I’m obligated to retrieve it. On the negative side, would be someone hearing the shots and arriving to see me sunning on that tree root. I doubt that happened, because I never heard laughter.
Last but not least was the possibility of my poor heart exploding from the stress of that cold water. Kicking out while wading in a slew with your clothes off is not a good way to go. Old hunters want to be found leaning against a stump watching a den tree. A classy, traditional way to leave here. But if you’re found with your pants off in a secluded slew in the woods, it won’t matter what your accomplishments in life were. People will always wonder about you.
Maybe I should have called home first. But how does that phone call go? “Uh, hey baby. Uh, If I don’t come home from duck hunting just look in the Wilkes Lake slew. If I’m naked please fish me out and put my pants on before you call for help. Don’t forget the duck.”
Sometimes I don’t think I get smarter as I get older. I just discover newer, weirder stuff to do.
Taken from “When the Big Coon Walks” by David Humphries. Available on Amazon.
