Conservation Corner: January 31, 2000

Alone In A Duck Blind
by James L. Cummins

Having left Leland about noon time, I proceeded east on 82. I stopped off in Carrollton at Jody Gee's to see if he wanted to go harass some ducks on a 40 acre or so beaver pond on our family's farm. He was at home. And his sister, Ann Ross Mcgee, was there too. In fact, the entire Gee clan was there and in usual form. They were going to the christening of one of Jody's granddaughters. I never asked Jody to go duck hunting, partially because I thought he might say yes and miss the christening. Of course, it would have been my fault. And it doesn't take a NASA engineer to figure out that my relationship with the Gee clan, excluding Jody of course, would have changed from then on.

So, as you can imagine, shortly thereafter, I found myself alone in a blind for the first time since my last "Reading Day" during the Fall Semester at Mississippi State University in the mid-eighties.

Duck hunters usually do not hunt alone; by nature, we are social people. We usually hunt with one or more fellow hunters. We compliment each other on good shots. We talk about each others' gun on bad shots. We reminisce about former hunts, enjoy fine cigars and on a cold morning partake of a sip of brandy to warm the soul. Or as Peter Rabbit of Merigold, Mississippi, used to say, "To get ya mota runnin."

After I set up the nine decoys I had, I sat an waited. Very peaceful. Would have been different if Jody was here, I thought to myself.

I group of six mallards came in from the south and I gave them a hail call. After one passing, they turned toward me and set their wings. I locked in on one greenhead and my Remington roared. As close as they were I couldn't believe I had missed. Good thing I was here by myself, I thought; Jody wouldn't have let me live that one down. But as they flarred, I shot again. A duck dropped this time. A large flight of woodies in the flooded willows also rose and entered the "no oxygen" zone. They soon went out of sight.

As the action slowed, I thought of many other hunts on our farm. I thought of the time that I was dating a girl in Washington, D.C. and brought her and her father to Mississippi to go deer hunting. He sat on the stand for 5 minutes and shot a 227 pound 13-point. I remember carrying someone from D.C. duck hunting here, trying to impress him, and stepping in a stump hole while I was breaking ice. And yes, it was a deep stump hole - full of cold water! The hunt was actually a failure, but we are still good friends and work close together.

Well, one is never alone in a duck blind. Sometimes it can even get crowded, even when you are by yourself.

James L. Cummins is Executive Director of the Mississippi Fish and Wildlife Foundation in Stoneville, Mississippi. Known as "Wildlife Mississippi," the Foundation is a non-profit, conservation organization founded to conserve, restore and enhance fish, wildlife and plant resources throughout Mississippi.