My evil brother (no, Paul, the one from the coast) decided that he would go duck hunting this past weekend at the famous Christmas Place. He finally talked Dad in to going with him and before day he threw his decoys, dad and all their other junk in the Gator and took off for the lake. At the lake he threw all his junk, decoys and Dad in the boat, tied a rope to it and waded the edge for 250 yards to a spot halfway up the lake. He threw his junk and Dad on the bank, set out the decoys and then totally exhausted staggered into the brush to set up.
The wind was howling and the ducks would not cooperate. They kept landing on the big water just out of gun range and not in the little cove they were set up on. Finally, finally, a big mallard came winging in and Paul fired. The duck went down in the open water. They shot a few more times and the wind died down. Dad blew his duck call. "Quack, Quack, Quack" and down the lake came a giant bird. It was not a duck. By the time Paul said "What the hell is that?" The damn thing had swooped down, grabbed his duck, and took off! Dad said "Uhh, that WAS a bald eagle, looked hungry to me." The eagle circled the lake with the duck in his talons and headed back into the swamp. Paul threw his junk, decoys, and Dad in the boat and started trudging back up the lake. We don't need a damn duck stealing eagle taking advantage of our hunters. It looks like we have a ducking problem up at the lake.
ed. note (the exact same thing happened to me the last time I shot a big 250lb. buck and it fell in the lake.) Damn Eagles!