On the Wing

The beating of wings sounded like thunder in the crisping air. Across 700 miles of flat and rolling water-flecked land from Alberta through Saskatchewan and on east to Manitoba, Canada's great duck factory was emptying for the winter. Some 200 million ducks, incubated in millions of prairie potholes and marshes that yield 65% of the continent's waterfowl, began the long flight south. From Canada they will scud at 40 to 50 m.p.h. over the four great fly ways (see map) to winter havens scattered from the southern U.S. to northern Peru. Along the way, millions will fall before the guns.

For the 300,000 Canadians and 2,250,000 U.S. duck hunters, 1958 will not be as good as 1957. It will still be a good year. After an early hatch because of unseasonably warm weather, drought struck the potholes. The number of breeding places dropped from 10 million to 4,500,000, threatening ruin. What saved the season was the cooperative conservation practices of Canada and the U.S., and of the privately run Ducks Unlimited (TIME, Sept. 18, 1944), which alone raised $6,750,000, built 714 small dams and flooded 530 breeding marshes. Re-nesting ducks flocked to the areas, were able to start a second clutch.

Modern game management has put an end to the old blunderbuss days of the early 1900s. With indifferent conservation, the duck population plummeted to about 30 million in the 1930s, threatening an end to the sport. Today's bags are carefully limited and so is the season, which lasts about 2 1/2 months in each area. No hunter comes home with a wagonload of mallard, but most everybody gets a duck dinner, and leaves plenty of birds for next year.

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