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Thread: Three’s A Crowd

  1. #1

    Three’s A Crowd

    What with one thing or another, I didn’t get myself organised to go out until after 7:00pm last night. My Good Lady was constructing a massive paella, but it was clear that if I wanted to go shooting, I’d have to wait until I got back to sample it. Looking down the list of my permissions, I tried to select a location that would suit the wind’s direction. I also wanted to go somewhere that I could get to and from quickly – partly because I was low on fuel, and partly because I was hungry. In the end, I went for a small farm that’s about three miles away. Due to its size and shape, it’s a place that only really works if the wind’s in the west (which it was) – if it’s coming from anywhere else, you can’t approach the main area without being scented.

    The trip over only took a few minutes, but although I was parked up very quickly, I couldn’t leave the truck – Planet Rock was playing Deep Purple’s ‘Speed King’, and it’s against the law to switch it off part-way through. When the last chords had died away, I set to, and was on my way in moments, since I’d already pulled my gloves and face veil on, and had put the mini-thermal and NV mono in place before I’d left the house. With my rifle over my shoulder and sticks in hand, I began to wend my way past the barn towards the furthest gate. I’d chosen to walk up to it rather than climb over the one by my truck for a simple reason – a farm on the other side of the valley – about a mile away, had its yard lights on. These were lighting up much of the field I was heading for, so in order to avoid them, I had to skirt around the top hedge.

    Halfway past the barn I suddenly encountered a white tape at waist height. As this was of the electric fence type, I was pleased that I hadn’t walked straight into it. I had a quick look with the mini-thermal to see why the tape was there. Aha – I could see immediately that it was being used to corral a small pony. Now I don’t know much about horsey things, so can’t say what breed it was – it appeared to be a sort of a cross between a Shetland and a Shire – small, but very powerfully built. Thinking no more of it, I took advantage of the fact that my sticks have foam handles, and used them to hold the tape down as I climbed over. I made some gentle clucking noises to reassure the pony as I walked on, but halfway to the other side, it suddenly went into stampede mode, and came charging towards me. Not wanting to spook it any further, I stood and spoke to it quietly. I also switched my small Surefire torch on, and held my other hand out, holding it low so that the pony didn’t feel threatened by it. After some snorting and stamping, it came a bit closer and then sniffed me. After a few seconds of checking me out, it relaxed and licked my hand gently in approval.

    Once again, the sticks assisted me in crossing over the next electric tape, and before long I was at the top gate that leads into the main field. This is a large stretch of rough pasture which is roughly rectangular in shape and the best part of 600 yards from end to end. It has the farmhouse and associated buildings on one side, while on the other it falls away suddenly to a small stream which is bordered by a thin line of ash, birch and oak trees. Below these grows a dense scrub of hawthorn, blackthorn and hazel, all thickly entwined with brambles. Since it provides such an excellent combination of shelter, fresh water, food and protection, it is a favourite lying-up area for roe deer. Before scaling the gate, I gave the field a through going over with the thermal. There were several rabbits nearby, but nothing else of any note.

    The environmental conditions were completely different from those I’d experienced the night before, when there was so much mizzle that the thermal struggled to see anything. Now, the air was completely clear, and anything living stood out clearly. I’d also made a few tweaks to the mini digital recorder that I’d rigged up to the thermal, so I was hoping that I’d get some good footage. Every now and then I stopped to film the area around me. At one point, I spotted something sitting in the middle of the field. It was too small to be a rabbit, but had a very bright heat signature, so was unlikely to be a bird. It then began darting about before bounding forwards at great speed. It looked distinctly rat-like through the NV mono, but it was too far out to be sure, so I had another check with the riflescope – since this has twice the magnification – x6 as opposed to x3, I was able to confirm my identification as being that of a rat. A little further on, I spotted two small rodents in the thicket down by the stream, which was tinkling away merrily in the background. I can’t say exactly what they were, but my money would be on field mice.

    On the far side of the stream – about 800 yards or so away on the next farm, I could see there was a fairly large animal out in a meadow near some big woods. I don’t know what it was – the optics on my mini-thermal just weren’t designed for such distances. My guess would be that it was a roe deer. The next time I looked, it had gone, so I was unable to get a positive ID.

    I eventually reached a point opposite the farmhouse, but by then the wind had moved around a bit, and was now blowing my scent into the nearby woods. There was clearly no point in trying to approach them directly, so I decided to give the caller a go instead. The first time I put it down, I quickly discovered that it was hidden from my chosen shooting point by a fall in the ground, so I retraced my steps and repositioned it a few yards further on. I then found that I was being lit up by the lights from the farmhouse, so had to experiment a bit before finding a spot that was in total shadow.

    I thought it would be nice to get some footage of a fox coming in to the caller, so I switched the recorder on before starting the distressed rat call. After a couple of minutes with no response, I changed to a screaming bunny track. Then, all of a sudden, I realised that a fox had come out of the woods, and was getting very close to the caller. At this point, I had to switch the thermal off, switch the DVR off (because of all the light they were producing), get the rifle in position, switch the NV riflescope and laser on, get on target, then release the safety and get a shot off. All in less than a second - needless to say, I fouled it up terribly, and missed. Cursing bitterly, I decided that the filming would have to wait, and consoled myself with the possibility that the fox might come back for another look. It’s happened before, so I calmed myself down and began scanning the edge of the woods with the thermal.

    About a minute later, a fox-like shape appeared – this time I was far better prepared, but in spite of it being a lot further away – some 150 yards out, I got a very solid ‘pop’ in answer to my shot. Brilliant – that was better! Again, I decided to play a waiting game, so left the caller going, and settled down to see if anything else would show. It wasn’t long, however, before I got another heat signature down by the woods. A quick look through the riflescope showed me a set of fox eyes reflecting back strongly. A slight tweak of the focus adjuster gave me a nice image and I loosed off a round aimed between the fiery glows. A hard-edged crack suggested that I’d hit the skull, and my target fell out of sight.

    Two foxes was good going, but I decided to hang on to see if any more would appear. There’s a very big commercial pheasant shoot nearby, and the keepers there normally do a very good job of predator control, so I wasn’t hopeful. It was with some surprise therefore, when another fox appeared – this time though it approached from directly upwind – the last place I’d expect it to come from. Unfortunately, this placed it well away from where my sticks were pointing – consequently, I wasn’t ready for it, and it sussed I was there before I could reposition myself. Bugger!

    One thing beyond all others matters when you’re foxing though – patience. As it had run off into the woods where the others had come from, I readied myself in case it went round on the wind to see what was going on, just as the other ones had. For once, the fact that I was so close to the farmhouse was an advantage. The foxes were clearly used to smelling humans there, and even though they were more or less directly downwind, they weren’t as spooked as they’d normally be. Sure enough, about five minutes later, I spotted it coming up the slope and into view. The moment it presented a safe shot, I whacked it – again, I got a good a solid ‘whop’, and it dropped like a stone.

    When nothing else showed, I set off to retrieve the caller and then find the carcasses. The first one was easy – it showed up in the thermal straight away, so I set my sticks up next to it as a marker and went off to see if I could find the second one. It had fallen on the far side of the slope that led down into the woods though, so I had to search around for it. Just as I was doing so, I heard a sound that just wasn’t right. Luckily, I stopped and switched my torch on to see what the score was. There – about a foot in front of me, I found a sheer twenty foot drop. The bloody farmer had dug a quarry and left it unfenced. I’d unintentionally dislodged a pebble as I was walking forwards, and it was the sound of this falling that had alerted me – another step and I’ve have plummeted to certain injury. Feck!

    Anyway – my examinations with the torch revealed that the second fox was lying at the bottom. I therefore found a safe route round and climbed down to inspect it – it turned out to be a medium-sized vixen. After taking some photos, I then climbed back up to see if the third fox was anywhere in sight – fortunately, it was lying a few yards further on from the first one, so I was able to reach it without risking life or limb. This time it was a large dog – from nose to tail it was nearly four feet long.

    On examination, I discovered the first one was a very large and heavily pregnant vixen. I would imagine that together the three represented a breeding clan, and so my evening’s efforts were clearly very well worthwhile. I knew the farmer would be delighted, and hoped that he might even get to keep his poultry this year. I also knew that his immediate neighbour would be less pleased – even though he’s a sheep farmer, he’s a keen supporter of the local hounds, and thinks that no-one should shoot foxes. I have to admit that I really struggle to understand how some people can be so selfish that they’re prepared to see others lose their livestock in the name of sport. It’s a strange old world…

    Needless to say, knowing that the pony was there gave me good reason to take a different route back to the truck. With everything packed up and the rifle safely back in its case I set off for home, where the long-awaited paella proved to be bloody delicious!
    Last edited by Paddy_SP; 18-02-2012 at 13:29.

  2. #2
    Excellent write up.
    Great result.
    "He who kills sow with piglets empties the forest of boar" My neighbours dad on new years eve 2011.

  3. #3
    Fantastic write up yet again Paddy and a great 2 fingers up to the next door farmer!

  4. #4
    Epic read again Paddy keep it coming

  5. #5
    Another interesting read Paddy.

  6. #6
    Thanks Chaps! Here's a short clip from the above account recorded via my thermal - the small white object out in the field is my fox caller. I'll let you work out what happens for yourself, and why I suddenly stopped filming!

  7. #7

  8. #8
    Great read Paddy,
    You should be writing for sporting rifle,but dont forget us.
    Your a long time dead..GET OUT THERE.

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