This is how duck-hunting will end. Not with a bang. Not with a whimper. Not with an angry chorus of protest. But with a sigh, a sadness exhalation acknowledging that we have piddled away our inherited, natural bounty and abandoned all hope of restoring to greatness the flocks that once darkened the sky.

If this seems overly pessimistic, consider the following:

Biologists found bountiful water this spring on the northern prairies, our most productive breeding habitat. They counted a total of seven million potholes, the fifth highest count since North American potholes surveys began in 1974. Biologists counted

8.3 million breeding mallards this spring. This is the fifth highest number of breeding mallards during the same time period. The table was set for best fall flight of this young century.

But reports I received from the field during the first half of the season were less than stellar. One highly skilled North Dakota hunter reported his kill was only a third of normal. Another stated he had just spent over $200 worth of gas driving around scouting for field-feeding greenheads. He found only one stubblefield holding mallards. In my home state of Indiana three veteran hunters who went afield on the opening morning of the second season brought home only one teal – and they were the lucky ones. Most hunters in the same marsh came home skunked.

A steady decline in the quality of shooting is nothing new, especially to old-timers who have witnessed fewer and fewer ducks with each passing decade, notwithstanding annual fluctuations due to habitat conditions.

What proved remarkable about the latest reports is the tone of voice of the hunters expressing them. I did not detect an overweening anger. They did not demand an answer to the question, “What in hell is going on?” This anger might be appropriate considering the billions we have spent to gather biological data and acquire wetland habitat to better “manage” our flocks.

Where is the loud chorus of disillusioned, disgruntled and disappointed waterfowlers? Why are they not confronting and demanding answers from waterfowl management, flyway councils, state fish and game agencies and those conservation organizations that tell us everything is and/or will be hunky-dory provided we continue to give them our financial support.

Too many waterfowlers today seemed resigned to a steady decline of ducks each season, as if this is the fate God has decreed for us. It represents avian surrender, an abandonment of the old American can do spirit, a belief that we can increase numbers of ducks – if we want to.

What makes this year’s lamentations all the more remarkable is that this year’s fall flight is probably as good as it will get for decades to come. Barring an exceptional weather event, this season will prove to be mediocre to poor.

As for the future, it is important to note this spring’s count of 8.3 million breeding mallards. Adaptive Harvest, the management protocol that sets our season lengths and bag limits, believes this is too many. It wants and is trying to have hunters shoot down the breeding flock to 5.2 million, believing this is the maximum number needed under average wetland conditions to maximize the kill.

The mathematical reality of this is inescapable, especially since no biological evidence suggests that fewer breeders will mean increased juvenile production rates. To keep the math simplified, consider this: If 100 breeding ducks fledge one juvenile per adult, resulting in a fall flight of 200 ducks, all other things being equal, then 63 breeders fledging one juvenile per adult will produce a fall flight of 163 ducks, an 18 percent drop, which is what Adaptive Harvest has planned for us.

And what about habitat? This year’s count of seven million potholes, the fifth highest total ever recorded, tells us the northern prairies were spangled with potholes, prompting Scott Yaich, Ducks Unlimited’s director of conservation operations, to state: “When it is wet, there is still enough breeding habitat to maintain ducks populations at levels that can produce a good fall flight.”

He referred to the 8.3 million ducks found this spring. If we shoot the population down to 5.2 million, we will have a surplus of habitat, even in average water years. Why do we need to buy more breeding habitat if we already have an excess?

If the old biological equation relating the size of the breeding population and numbers of potholes to the numbers of ducks in the fall flight has any meaning today, then we should be seeing lots of ducks instead of the opposite.

Moreover, it is unlikely we will improve on the combined population and pothole counts in the near or distant future. Wet years do not occur that often.

The question that should haunt all of us: Why do we stare at empty skies and accept diminishing numbers of ducks as our fate? Why aren’t we loudly demanding an answer from authorities? Why aren’t we forcing the firing of those individuals who got us into this mess? Why aren’t we calling for shorter seasons, lower bag limits, later opening dates, earlier closing dates and an end to spinning wing decoys?

How long will we remain as silent as lambs?