Another duckling came to a sad end this morning, drowning in a dish of food. Crazy as it sounds it managed to hop into the container and couldn’t get out. So now we only have shallow dishes in the duck house. Looking after ducklings is more nerve wracking than waiting for them to hatch. We will be lucky to see these three mature into adults.
Later we will bury the duckling alongside the one that froze on a frosty morning ten days ago. They will have a peaceful resting place on the island in the pond. Wish us all luck until they get their feathers at about six weeks and beyond.
gfreedmanblog 
I remember at Stones Hill being distressed to find a dead baby while you were away on holiday. Jeremy’s words of comfort were that sometimes the parents and siblings would trample a duckling to death. This has the look of an accident rather than murder.