He handed me a medium-sized duck with an iridescent green and chestnut colored head, gray body and large feathers coming off the wings close to the body. I certainly had never seen a duck like it before, so I dug out my picture book of Waterfowl of the World and identified it as a falcated duck (Anas falcata).
The only problem was that this species of duck is native to eastern Asia and breeds in Siberia and China. WTF was it doing in South America, east of the Andes?
After I got back to the US, I contacted the US Fish and Wildlife Service, Ducks Unlimited's office in Memphis, and the Wildlife Department at Louisiana State University. No one really could conceive that this duck had flown across the Pacific and the Andes mountains and taken up residence in Buenos Aires province, Argentina. They all concluded that the bird had been raised in captivity from an egg and escaped. Nevertheless, it was the first report of a wild Falcated duck ever in Argentina.
In case anyone thinks this is just a BS hunting story, here's the actual duck mounted on the wall of my living room:
My BOOM, BOOM - BOOM story is how I learned to hunt pheasants in New Jersey without a dog. I started hunting later in life and a friend taught me how to zig zag a field to make a pheasant fly because it thinks you spotted it. This is really fairly simple. Walk through the field as if you knew exactly where the bird was, stop, stare at a an area, then change direction and do the same thing. Push the bird to a corner and as you force it into a smaller part of the field, it will eventually think you know where it is because you keep coming at it. It will eventually fly.
But there is a much easier way, especially useful in places like Flatbrook Wildlife Management Area in northern N.J. Walk aimlessly around the fields until you hear these sounds: “bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, BOOM, BA-BOOM, BOOM, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark.”
This is the sound of two guys who can’t shoot their guns with a totally undisciplined dog. The dog puts a bird up about sixty yards away from them. They couldn’t hit it if it was tied to a stake, anyway.
Figure out which way they’re going and get there first. They’re like flushers on a driven hunt. When you hear, “bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM,” just wait until you hear wings above you and shoot. Dinner is served, and you’ll never have to clean dog puke off the floor of your truck. :)