The next morning the wind was blowing harder than ever, and the temperature was close to freezing. The sky was clear as we set our decoys. There was only one element missing. The mallards Bob had seen the previous afternoon weren't here. Only an occasional bird flew across the marsh. In the first hour of hunting we bagged one lonesome greenhead and a Canada goose that came to our calling.

Right after the goose fell was when we saw the mallards swoop into a nearby timber hole. Bob said there was another smaller pothole there that was more protected from the blow. As we talked about moving, another flight pitched in to join the first group. That's all the convincing we needed to pick up and head in their direction.

Thirty minutes later we were huddled beneath thick bushes bordering the small pond. Our decoys were set where ducks had flushed upon our arrival. Now maybe our luck would change.

A few minutes later a small flight of mallards dropped into our spread without circling, and we downed three. 

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