Duck from dusk till dawn

The breathtaking moments spent in wild places where teal spring and wigeon rocket are the wildfowler’s reward for late nights and early starts — the bag is an added bonus

- SIMON GARNHAM

The teal descended as lightly as a butterfly hovers over a flower. Once settled in the centre of the oval pool she began to busy herself with preening, sending ripples out to the barley that lay at the water’s edge. Patrick Galbraith, the Editor, and I were both surprised and transfixed by her shadowy shape. We clutched our 12-bores and squinted into the gathering darkness, hidden by the branches of silver birch scrub.

“No idea where that came from,” I whispered, now scouring the skyline for a second bird. The waxing half moon blinked a silent reply. Mars shone red in the inky sky, as enigmatic as the teal that bustled on the water only 10 yards in front of us.

Cleopatra eyes

Teal have long been a source of fascination. They range so widely in such exotic and far-flung places as Siberia, the Congo and the Nile. With their Cleopatra eyes, the males are unmistakable, and both ducks and drakes have those beautiful wing flashes so familiar to all wildfowlers. Sir Ralph Payne-Gallwey in his Letters to Young Shooters rightly challenges his readers: “I defy you to pocket a drake teal without first admiring its symmetry and plumage.” They are indeed handsome little ducks.

I remember my father telling me, as we crept up to a creek, that to shoot one would be to achieve the hardest shot there can be. A spring of teal ranks alongside going-away snipe. Much to my delight and to his surprise, I did. From that point onwards teal have held a special place, synonymous with winter and wonderful sport — twisting and turning to evade even the smartest of Guns.