My youngest son Duncan, 6 years old, killed his first duck, a handsome drake wood duck. The first duck lit ten yardd in front of the boys. Forrest, the big brother, gave Duncan the opportunity to shoot. He wasn't able to get on it good, but Forrest folded him clean as he retreated from the beaver pond. The second duck to land...stayed with a single .410 shot. We'll find him a good home on the mantle too! Forrest managed his wood duck limit in two great shots. Except for the dog shaking off, we managed to get everyone in and out of the swamp without getting wet. It seems easier said than accomplished. In recalling the duck hunt to proud grandparents, Duncan described "sitting on a log in a swamp freezing half to death but killing ducks". Further proof yet that acorns don't fall far from the tree.