All the while we happily banged away at some good-sized mobs of parries and the odd unlucky mallard as they flew past to reach their nightly feeding grounds.
As it got darker and all the cars had switched on their headlights we decided it was time to call it quits on what had been an exciting and profitable hunt.
We had a big pack up ahead of us and Dad and my son Jake had a good two-hour drive back home. David had an hours drive a head of him and I was lucky enough to be heading even further north to cross off something that I had on my bucket list since I was a kid. I was off to hunt a trophy ram and a huge Fallow buck the very next day.
Before the pack up could begin and, even though no one really had the time or inclination to do so, we lined up a substantial load of ducks and one swan for the customary photo. Most of the crew were well used to this ritual except Matt, our new farming mate, who looked on wondering what all the fuss was about. He became much keener for a photo once he learnt he might
