All hunters who study history recognize that Theodore Roosevelt’s groundbreaking accomplishments in preserving this country’s natural resources were motivated by his love of hunting. His hunting trips in the West allowed him to observe the rapid disappearance the nation’s wild places. What is less well known is that his ability to set aside tracts of land for conservation was dependent on decades of work by wealthy sportsmen determined to change public opinion from a belief in market and “pot” hunting to one that emphasized the ethic of fair chase and careful stewardship of wildlife and forestry resources.

John F. Reiger’s book, American Sportsmen and the Origins of Conservation, documents, with the detailed eye of an historian, but also by one who has a passion for hunting, the intense battle fought to halt the plunder of the nation’s wildlife that took place in the latter half of the 19th Century.

Attitudes shaped by the colonists’ rebellion against English aristocratic control over game were deeply rooted in this country. The “democratic” access to unlimited hunting and commercial exploitation of natural resources seemed to benefit the rapidly expanding frontier population. Commercial hunters supplied railroad crews and cities with protein. Homesteaders and ranchers depended on game to supplement their food supplies. Repeating guns and rapid transportation by rail increased the pace of slaughter after the Civil War. By the 1870s many game species had become relatively scarce.

Several wealthy individuals, led by New Yorker George Bird Grinnell, recognized that the “tragedy of the commons” was rapidly reducing our once abundant stocks of wildlife, including waterfowl. These individuals banded together to form clubs and publish magazines, the latter being predecessors of our modern day sporting press, to communicate among themselves and to promote their conservation cause. They recognized technology was accelerating the decline of wildlife species through market hunting and habitat degradation. They sought to reverse it by promoting the “Code of the Sportsman.” They reasoned that if game were only taken during non-breeding season, females were protected for breeding stock, breeding grounds restored, and commercial trade in game eliminated, a sustainable “sport” harvest could be maintained forever and for “everyman.”

These visionaries developed and wrote “The Code of the Sportsman” that defined the respectful relationship between the hunter and the hunted. They established “fair chase,” declaring a hunter worthy of the title “sportsman” only after he developed the skill and determination to take animals within self-imposed restraints.

They fought for legislation to set aside sanctuaries, limit hunting hours, methods, and technologies, establish mandatory hunting seasons, and abolish the commercial trade in wild game. These crusaders were cast as “elitists” by both market hunters and the farmers and ranchers who would no longer have the unfettered right to kill fish and game. Political battles raged from the 1870s through the turn of the century in state capitals over legislation to regulate hunting and fishing that was first passed, then repealed, then passed again. Preserves and sanctuaries were set aside, but no policing agency was established to deter commercial hunting on these lands.

As I progressed through Reiger’s book, I was struck by eerie similarities between the time being described and the past two or three decades. Though many wildlife species have responded to the protections eventually enacted by the federal and state governments, habitat degradation, changing human demographics and technological innovations in hunting are posing very real threats to the viability of hunting today as a widespread activity in this nation.

As our population has become more and more urbanized, free access to nearby rural lands for hunting has become rare. Pressure on public hunting areas has increased, and private land hunting and fishing clubs have flourished. “Put-and-take” hunting and expensive “guaranteed” guided hunts are squeezed into busy schedules and made possible by rapid air transport and four-wheel drive vehicle

Once we are in the field seeking to reduce game to possession, we are aided by a plethora of high-tech and expensive equipment. Quad-runners, hearing aids, two-way radios, electronic calls, spinning-wing decoys, and infrared game-finders all reduce the hunter’s dependence on his own abilities to locate and kill game. These devices support our “hurry up” experience in bagging our quarry and reduce the depth of understanding for the game and its habitat. Call me a Luddite, if you wish.

Our complacence about these changes is borne by our self-congratulatory claims of success in bringing certain game species back from the brink and our unquestioning trust of wildlife agencies’ ability to set appropriate harvest limits. We have forgotten TR’s maxim that was derived from his close association with the “elitist” visionaries of the late 1800s: the value of (and to) the game brought to possession is directly proportional to the difficulty in bagging it and to the wildness of the lands and water that supported it.

Yet there is increasing recognition today by some sportsmen that something is awry with the current state of wildlife management. This is especially true in regard to waterfowl. When individuals question the use of new technologies or regulations that seek to maximize harvest, they are castigated as un-democratic and elitist. They are criticized for recommending anything that would increase the difficulty of taking game, a criticism based on the false idea that the future of hunting rests on keeping hunter numbers up and that those numbers are dependent solely on the “success rate” at filling limits or tags. Critics ask: What does it matter how we fill our limits if those limits are sanctioned by the all-knowing agencies we entrust to protect the populations?

As a sportsman, I know that today’s hunters and fisherman are under attack by those who despise our freedom to carry firearms, who abhor our moral statement of killing some of our own food. All anti-hunters, and most non-hunters, have difficulty understanding how hunting strengthens the connection between us and the land that supports us when we are killing the very species we seek to preserve. When they look at some of our sporting magazines, they see the emphasis on technology (ads), guided hunts (ads), and competition (trophy shots in ads). Discussion of conservation, ethics, the role of hunting in society at large and our historical antecedents are absent among many of these publications or are contradicted by the commercial messages being sent by advertisements and photography.

Though several states have passed constitutional “right-to-hunt” laws, the changing demographics in this country and public attitudes towards hunting are causing regular losses of hunting, trapping, and fishing privileges. And privileges they are; we must realize that sportsmen must truly appear to have the highest interest of the game and natural systems at heart if we are going to avoid being annihilated at the ballot box. We must become the most potent force for protection of wild places, enforcement of game and pollution laws, the restoration of free or low cost public access to quality hunting, and setting limits on guiding operations, especially on public lands. If not, we are in danger of being branded as a privileged class that cares about nothing but providing fish and game for our own pleasure.

California will be the next crucible for hunting rights. Within the state, private landowners control most of the quality hunting activities. Private land managers that allow or promote hunting must truly begin to put back more than they harvest. The members of one Sacramento Valley duck club that I have hunted several times over the last few years embodies the “Code of the Sportsman.” Here is a list of practices they adhere to that embody that spirit:

1. They practice “voluntary restraint” by avoiding the shooting of all hens, and count crippled but lost birds in their bag.

2. They reduced the daily bag limit to five birds when the law allowed seven.

3. They promote the use of trained retrievers and have regular clay target practice sessions during the season to reduce crippling losses.

4. They maintain wood duck nest boxes and have an active predator control program.

5. They restrict shooting to three mornings a week, allowing waterfowl to rest afternoons and off days.

6. They maintain several small sanctuary areas where no disturbance or hunting is allowed.

7. They manage the grounds to provide the optimum mix of food, cover, and open water for birds throughout the year.

8. They allow no hunting with motorized spinning-wing decoys.

Isn’t it time more waterfowl hunters take a lesson from history, stop whining and pitch in with time, money, and proper behavior? The primary lesson of history is clear. A sportsman is not defined by the amount of money in his checking account, but by his behavior afield. And it is the behavior of each of us that will determine the fate of ducks and duck hunting.