Small Scopes

The job of participants is literally to hide, behind cedars and bayberry, within river birch. The job of the ranger is to imitate the calls of wild ducks, using different hand-carved calls, which are among hunters' most prized tools. These slender instruments, chilled by onshore winds, can sound high and panicky at first, then deepen. Each whittled call creates a different sound. One signals "food here!," another, which sportsmen call "the hook," induces fowl to hook back in for a second look.
Mr. Harley's tools are working decoys and calls. They are not the artistic version, made for show, and frequently sold for thousands of dollars.
"Decoys have to persuade," the ranger instructs. "Those ducks are smart — it's life and death." Duck shapes of plastic or foam are precisely weighted so as to bob convincingly on the water. "Every time I put out a spread, it's fresh (different)," he said. Fellow fowl-watchers, tucked behind shrubs and downed trees, "make use of natural cover — nothing man-made. I call them 'hides', not blinds."
Piedad Bernikow, an attorney whose wildlife photography has been published "all over the world," took her first duck-hike with Ranger Harley early this month.
Ms. Bernikow is a regular preserve visitor because she finds nature "gorgeous — and this place 'a little bit of heaven.'" What she most enjoyed about her hike, "apart from when the ranger fell in the water," was that "he led us on 'a trail not taken.'"