One afternoon we made a loop around a cattail slough pushing tons of pheasants in front of us. Most flushed wild but not all of them, and I was one short of a limit by the time we were almost back to where we started. At the end of the slough the cattails petered out into a series of clumps sticking up out of short grass, which was mostly flattened under snow. The dogs were elsewhere. Mark, one of the guides, saw the roosters first.
"Get up here," he said. "I see half a dozen roosters headed for that next bunch of cattails." I walked up. One of the half dozen was still out in the open, standing there. These were all wild birds, and you don't see them do that very often.