Modern Wild Man: Modern Wild Man ~Geese in the Blind~

Waterfowl hunting on the Kansas prairie.

Modern Wild Man & Meg's goose retrieve, five geese from the water.

Waterfowling with a shotgun dates clear back to the 17th century. Before the advent of shotguns, man was a waterfowler in prehistoric times. A mural in the tomb of ancient Egyptian Khum-Hotpe (1900 BC) depicts a hunter in a blind capturing ducks in a trap. It's safe to say waterfowling is a hunting tradition.

I have been chasing waterfowl longer in my life now than I have not. Chasing waterfowl in their winter migration is a passion, an addiction, a way of life. I've pursued early teal in September, the beginning duck migration in November, late mallards in December, but every waterfowler looks forward to late season geese.

The Canadian goose is a large sturdy bird. Canadian geese can reach upwards of 20lbs with wing spans of nearly six feet. Strong fliers, and wary of danger, a Canadian goose hunt is in the dreams of many a waterfowler. Kansas is smack dab in the middle of the central flyway. Being right on the edge of a frozen band of iced up waters from Canada through the Dakotas and past Nebraska and her winding Platte river. Kansas is a natural resting place for late season geese. Potholes of water scattered around sprawling crop fields, the plains of Kansas offer up a great opportunity for hunting geese.

Recently I was able to spend a Saturday morning in a blind along a small pothole of water on the Kansas prairie. A small spot of water between feed fields and the roost lake, often pasture ponds serve an opportunity for hunters to try and entice birds on their way to or from feed to stop and rest.

The dark hours of the early morning were cold, morning temperatures in the twenties. The pond water seemed to steam like an overgrown kettle on the edge of boiling. The heat from yesterday's afternoon sun had soaked into the water, and it was resisting the cold of last nights frigid bite. I threw out a mixture of mallard and goose decoys, righting themselves with a splash. A gentle breeze pushed in a light fog and slightly warmer air. The low clouds covered the morning stars and moon. Wild places in the darkness are to me the most peaceful of all places. Early morning darkness has always served me as a type of sounding board to myself. The quietness, and darkness serve as a type of empty canvas for thought, contemplation and introspection. With decoys set and a steaming cup of coffee poured from a thermos cupped in chilled hands, the wait for dawn is a special time in a waterfowlers blind.

Ducks often fly early, seeking feed in the darkest hours of the morning. Looking out over the decoys drifting slightly back and forth on their tethered lines in the morning breeze, the sound of whistling duck wings cut through the air. My ears perked, and I searched the still dark sky for the flash of wings. My labrador, Meg, in her first season is still learning the ropes of waterfowling. She looked to me at the sound of the duck wings, and with a rub under the chin, and a soft "Good girl." she smiled a dog smile and snuggled into the cover of our blind. Waiting for light in any kind of hunting is a time full of promise. Time in the field is unpredictable at best. I've got to admit, I've been on my share of unsuccessful hunts. Whole days spent without a glimpse of the pursued game, the sound of a goose honk, or a turkey gobble. An unseasoned sportsman may consider those days wasted. They may wish that time back for another pursuit, or time asleep in bed. A seasoned sportsman knowns that those times are what made up the seasoning.

Meg and I watched the sky come on fire with strokes of red and orange in the east. Groups of mallards flew high overhead, none of them were interested in our little pond, or the rest our decoys promised. The excitement wore off for Meg and she curled into a ball, resting her heavy head on her tail and slept the slow hours away. Slow time in the waterfowl blind is bittersweet. Ask any waterfowler what is the best way to get birds to come into your setup, and they will answer, " Start picking up the decoys." It never fails, and it makes a waterfowler reluctant to call it quits and wade out into the spread and pick up. Watching the cold morning sky, and thinking about my family at home snuggled warm in their beds, I began to wonder what I was doing.

Just like that, with a wandering mind and a sleeping dog, a group of geese hooked right in like bombers on a landing strip. Large wings spread open and cupped into what little breeze there was, a group of five birds dropped into our spread and landed. The sound of birds on the water quickly rose Meg from her half hearted sleep, and she begged to go out after the birds. Concealed in camouflage, and tucked down into a makeshift blind the birds had no idea I was there. I counted the five geese on the water, the daily limit in Kansas is six. Staying hidden, I watched as the birds swam over as a group into my decoy spread, being social, waterfowl seek companionship of other birds.

Picking my moment, I sprang up from the blind and shouldered my shotgun. The birds now figuring out that the decoys weren't real ducks and geese after all, lifted off the water startled by my motion. My first shot dropped two geese into the water, I swung around to another bird now lifting out of the spread, and my second shot connected. A fourth bird was climbing off of the water, but was still in range, and my third shot found its mark. I reloaded while looking for the fifth bird that was flying strong by now. The last bird flew around along the edge of the far side of the pond, but then made a final mistake and came back over my blind. All five birds were now floating on the pond, and Meg was anxiously waiting for me to release her. I have been working all summer, fall and winter with Meg on water retrieves, this being her first season, it's a lot to ask of a dog.

Five large birds now floated in the water in front of my blind and Meg was whining to get a retrieve. Labradors are bent on retrieving, they crave it, and Meg in particular begs for her handlers approval. She is coming along great for her first season afield, and this hunt proved her strength and confidence. With my release, Meg jumped all four feet into the chilly water with a leap. Swimming hard and strong, huffing a swimming dog huff she swam straight for the closest goose. Quickly, Meg was able to negotiate a purchase on the bird by grabbing it by the neck, while swimming in water well over her head. Peddling back to me with bird in tow, Meg was glowing. She knew her job, she did it well, and she knew it. Without hesitation she dropped the big bird at my feet, and turned back to the job at hand. Meg jumped right back in, just as enthusiastic as she had been for the first bird, and made another great retrieve. It wasn't long before all five birds were back in the blind. Meg grinned her dog grin and sat up proud.

We didn't stay much longer after Meg's goose retrieves. We had done what he had came to do. There wasn't a limit of geese in the blind, and we had yet to have a group of ducks work, but that's not the point. Meg and I spent, or maybe used our morning, for peacefulness and rest. We acted out an ancient tradition drawn out on cave walls from millennia ago. This morning was good, and I think that's it; this morning was good.

If you're into waterfowling - check out the Duck Addiction!