Danish impressions of stalking in England.
First let me exuse for bad spelling and gramatics, as English is not my native language, there shurly we be some.
This trip was made in November 2023.
As it had been quite a few years since I had last been to England after the Muntjac, it was decided to take a trip on the small deer species again.
Unfortunately, it turned out that the contacts I had from years ago were no longer available, so new contacts had to be created. The first choice was, of course, to go to the websites of the Danish hunting companies and look at the various offers. There were several good offers, for example where hunting muntjac could be combined with hunting other species.
However, I always thought it was fun to organize something myself, so I started searching the web for contacts where you could organize such a hunt yourself. When a friend (Pedersen) who had never shot muntjac expressed a desire to participate in such a hunt, we were two hunters who wanted to go.
After some searching, I found a person in Shropshire who lived near the town of Ludlow. Connor as he was called, was contacted with a request for a 4 day hunt for 2 people, Monday through Thursday, first week of November.
A positive response came the very next day, we got 3 days with Muntjac as the main game, and one day in another area where there was a lot of fallow deer. The price was a little higher on fallow deer day, but we accepted that, as my friend Pedersen in particular wanted to try fallow deer.
Connor also offered that we could have an afternoon of "Walked up shotgun hunting", for squirrels, rabbits, hares and pigeons, with a chance of one of the famous English hunting pheasants. This was perfect, since on such trips you often have some challenges in getting the time to pass in the afternoon.
The agreement was that Connor would provide weapons and we would find a place to live ourselves. A pub called The Wheatsheaf Inn, in Ludlow town, was chosen as a base. In terms of transport, we chose Ryanair from Billund to Stanstead, where we rented a car.
The flight went without any problems, and after the bus ride from the airport to the car rental, we entered the postcode into the GPS, which thus guided us on the drive, just over 3 hours long.
It was agreed that Connor would meet us on Sunday evening at the pub so that we could plan the coming days there. The first meeting with Connor turned out to be positive, he was a healthy young man of 27 years with an alert expression in his eyes. Naturally, the conversation started with hunting as a theme, and we soon found out that the man was very competent. It turned out that we were his first clients from "Europe", so he was naturally a little nervous at this first meeting. The fact that he had Googled "Danes", where it was said that we Danes could be quite difficult to get along with, did not exactly dampen the nervousness. However, I think he was pleasantly surprised, as after a few minutes you could quickly feel that he calmed down.
The agreement was that we were to be picked up on Monday morning at 5.45, I was to go with my friend William, and Pedersen was to go with Connor.
Monday morning, we had some biscuits, chocolate and coffee in the room for breakfast. Then the trip went out into the hunting terrain. William turned out to be a young man of 22 years, and I had to go with his rifle, which was a fine older, almost unused, Parker Hale in caliber 7x57, with a Doctor 8x56 on the back.
Pedersen would then go with Connor and use his Sako caliber .222Rem, for which there was a thermal Click-on for the scope, if shooting in the dark. We were informed that we had to shoot one hour before and after sunrise/sunset.
Will was equipped with a thermal spotter, and we had only just got out of the car when he found a muntjac walking in the field. It was listed against it and on Ca. 100 meters, I tried to find it in the binoculars. It wasn't easy, but with Will holding the thermal spotter up to my left eye, I could now recognize the outline of the animal in the optical scope. The wire cross was placed where I thought the blade was, and the shot came. The animal started running, it ran around confused and headed towards a front fence at the end of the field, where you could clearly see its bright underside in the scope. Actually thought it was dead, but put another bullet in it, and now it was completely still.
My first muntjac buck on this trip was thus a reality, and the joy was great for both me and Will was equally happy.
We continued along the edge of the forest, and quite quickly spotted a larger muntjac in another field. It was quite steep where it stood, and further back in the field were large trees on the steep field that ended against a smaller forest. The muntjac was headed for these trees, and would probably go under them towards the forest behind the field, in the now rapidly increasing daylight. With the direction of the wind, a plan was made to get up on the high ground above the field, and move quickly towards the forest, then descend into the trees on the steep sides of the field, to cut off the muntjac's path. It was a good attempt, but unfortunately we saw no more of the animal, which had disappeared without a trace.
Well, then we had to continue into the forest where we thought the muntjac had entered. The forest grew in a valley, with a stream at the bottom, and was characterized by very dense undergrowth, and rather steep slopes down towards the stream.
It was difficult for a Dane like me to move around on these densely wooded and steep forest sides. However, Will was very helpful, and made sure to adapt both pace and route to my, not top-trimmed, physical form.
After moving a few hundred meters through this fantastic English woodland, we were suddenly faced with a muntjack lamb, which was in some thick blackberry thicket. The lamb was no more than about 20 meters away, and had no doubt noticed our presence. Didn't get a closer look as it ducked into the blackberries and disappeared. Not even with the thermal spotter could we locate where it actually disappeared to.
The pulse had picked up a bit, and now you were well and truly fired up. It didn't take more than about 10 minutes before Will spotted a fresh muntjack among the trees. I couldn't see it no matter how hard I looked in my optical scope, but a quick glance in Will's thermal spotter showed it some way into the dense undergrowth ahead of us. We crept 25-30 meters closer, and now estimated the distance to be 50-60 meters, where Will thought we should set up the 4-point shooting stick. I simply couldn't find the muntjack in the binoculars, and had to have a look through the thermal spotter again, where a tree that split in a Y shape became a landmark. Now, in the scope, I could find a Y, and from there a little to the left with the crosshairs. A few but long seconds passed before the muntjack moved and I suddenly saw it clearly and could place a quick shot at it. There was a bang and fall effect, the young female muntjack never heard the shot, and the first morning, had thus now yielded 2 muntjacks.
Will quickly and professionally got the animal ready, and it was then put up to the field that started above the dense English forest on the steep valley slopes, for later collection. Before we could continue we heard muntjac barking on the other side of the forest and we set off again.
Now the valley with the stream, and thus the forest, began to narrow, finally ending in a point. We took approx. halfway down through the woods on the opposite side of the stream, but it was now too late in the morning for us to see anything.
The fatigue had now also reached a point where I would have found it difficult to continue. The steep slopes and the sloppy, wet ground put muscles in the legs and feet that were not used to being used to hard work. The return trip therefore took place in the field without us doing anything to be quiet. Will didn't seem tired and without further ado he took the muntjac with him as if it were a small handbag.
It had been a really good morning for me, when we had seen plenty of muntjac. On returning to our pub, Pedersen could report that he had also caught 2 muntjac this beautiful autumn morning.
The time had passed and we had to talk, so we didn't come from the pub until 11 o'clock, in other words too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. We had not ordered breakfast at the pub as we did not know when we would be home the first morning.
Now I'm a man who appreciates good food, so I was a little annoyed that we didn't get the, in my opinion, fantastic English breakfast. However, there was a sandwich shop called Vaughan's where one could satisfy one’s hunger. Ordered 2 sandwiches, a ham and a roast pork, as I wanted to be sure to get enough food before lunch. It turned out to be excellent big sandwiches with lots of meat, so can only recommend this shop to a couple of hungry hunters who need some quick food.
It was just a quick nap before we had to leave again. This first evening I was to be accompanied by Connor and Pedersen was to be in the tower with Will. Pedersen had the thermal click-on and was assured that it would be needed as the tower he was to sit in was inside the forest itself, and it would be dark already 30 minutes after sunset.
I followed Connor into some very dense forest that lay over an incredibly hilly area. Had a very hard time seeing how this area could have become so hilly but was informed that it was actually an old open mine or gravel pit, but has been closed for over 100 years, and pretty much looked after itself since then. There were some good paths into the area, where, in addition to traces of muntjac, there were tracks of wild game, and on a good slope there was a shooting tower for 2 people.
We had been sitting in the tower for about 20-30 minutes when Connor spotted a muntjac in the dense thicket opposite us with a thermal spotter, at a distance of approx. 70-80 meters. It couldn't be seen in the scope, which was simply too close, so we had to decide whether to list to a better position, or wait until it would, perhaps, appear in the more open part of the slope in front of the tower.
We stayed seated, and after approx. 15-20 minutes it suddenly walked on the open stretch 50-60 meters in front of us. It walked with fairly quick steps, but it didn't seem like it had a goal. Had it in the scope but followed it for a while before it got the side and stood still for a few seconds. The chance was taken and the bullet hit it well, so it went straight down and gave a couple of kicks with its legs before it lay completely still.
It was still early, so the first chance of the evening had been well utilized 45 minutes before sunset. Since we had plenty of time, we decided to go out into the fields and look for muntjac under the large, beautiful oak trees that were spread over the beautiful fields. We looked for footprints under the trees, and it was clear that the little deer came to eat acorns, which we now hoped to be able to take advantage of.
Unfortunately, no more chances came my way that night, despite seeing one more muntjac in the field at the edge of a wood, we didn't get any decent shot opportunities at it. However, there was a shot when the light began to disappear, and the direction could well indicate that it was from the tower Pedersen and Will were sitting in.
A call just at closing time confirmed it was them and a muntjac had been shot but had run off into the woods. We got up to them, and it took some time to find blood in the dark, but when it was found there was no longer any doubt that the animal had been hit. The blood trail was very difficult to follow in the now totally dark forest, so Connor decided to get his tracking dog Milo.
When Milo came, he was untied, and it took less than 1 minute from where blood had been found until he had the muntjac, which was lying stone dead in some very dense blackberry thicket, only 40 meters from the point of the shot. The animal turned out to be a pretty good buck, so Pedersen decided that it should be shoulder mounted. Connor had the contact with a conservator who could take care of everything, including the necessary papers to get the head home to Denmark.
That was the end of the first evening, and we could go to the pub's bar, tired but also satisfied, for a beer before bed.
The next morning we had to get up extra early and try our luck fallow deer as main prey. The area we were to hunt in was almost 45 minutes' drive from Ludlow, and this morning Pedersen was to accompany Tom, who was the gamekeeper on the spot. I followed Connor to a patch of woods where Tom thought there would be good chances for fallow deer. We also only got out of the car and had to cross a field to get to "our" hunting forest when we saw a fallow deer at the edge of the forest. We walked along a hedge that separated 2 fields, and the distance to the fallow deer was 200 meters. Connor asked how I felt shooting at that distance and I had to say it was the maximum distance I felt comfortable with. Since we were walking along a hedge, I wanted to try to get a little closer, as for me there is a huge difference between shooting from a shooting stick at 150 and 200 meters. Unfortunately, the plan didn't work out, and we never saw where the deer disappeared to on this beautiful autumn morning.
When we got to the forest, it could be ascertained that the entire edge of the field had been trampled completely fresh by many fallow deer hooves, so there must have been a large traffic of these animals in this area. The large interchanges that entered the forest were well used and the vegetation worn by the heavy traffic.
We moved into the forest, which was not particularly dense, but with a slight drop inwards ending in a stream, it was a beautiful forest of mixed deciduous trees. The numbers of gray squirrels were impressive. These large invasive squirrels had totally displaced England's native red squirrels in this area. I also couldn't help but notice the large number of wood pigeons flying around.
After 30 minutes of searching through the forest, Connor spotted fallow deer lying down. The animal was lying at the very bottom of the forest by the stream and we managed to get into a really good shooting position. We had Milo the springer spaniel with us, and I couldn't help but be impressed by how calmly and silently it followed Connor right at his heels.
With the 4 point shooting stick I got a good hold on the head of a doe calf at a distance of about 50 meters, and Connor whispered to me that I would like to shoot it in the head if I thought I could place the bullet properly, otherwise we would have to try to get it up and standing. It must have heard the whisper because instantly it turned its head and looked directly at us. Had been told the rifle was zeroed at 160 meters, so I decided to keep 1-2 cm. low, to hit it between the eyes. The assessment turned out to be correct and the top of the fawn's head lifted to become a cloud of dust, ensuring that the animal never discovered what happened.
Wow, that had gotten a good dose of adrenaline into the blood and the feeling we hunters get at such a situation filled the whole body from toe tips to earlobes. People who don't hunt often wonder what drives us hunters to spend so much of our precious time away from family, but this feeling is what drives us.
After the animal was cleaned and dragged onto the field at the edge of the forest, we continued to stalk through the forest. However, the morning was now over, and we decided to drive back to Pedersen and Tom, to present the deer.
When we arrived at Tom's, it could be ascertained that Pedersen had shot, no less than, 3 deer, so the mood was very high. After just sitting down and having a drink and a sandwich, we decided to drive for the nearest village and have a full English breakfast which put a great end to this second morning.
Afternoon was planned for fallow deer game on Tom's patch, but what were we going to do until evening. Tom had to feed pheasants and take care of his duties as a gamekeeper, but we could go for a hunt for gray squirrels in the part of the forest Connor and I had been through that morning. These animals quickly proved to have a formidable ability to hide when hunting them, and it was indeed very difficult, for a coble of old Vikings, to get a shot, despite their numbers. Connor went in the middle with me and Pedersen on the flanks, this afternoon thus ended with 5 less of the gray squirrels in the English countryside. The dog Milo now showed that he was not only useful for rifle hunting, but also willingly retrieved the squirrels we shot with shotguns.
This evening Pedersen stayed in the tower, while I walked with Connor to a new piece of forest through which there was a public path. We wanted to stalk ourselves on the trail, and since the heavy rain the week before had made everything very soft, all footprints on the trail were very clear. There was plenty of fallow deer and in some places also muntjac. The trail was clearly not used by the public very much, there were no signs of people anywhere, although the vegetation had clearly been cut within the last few months and the trail was very well maintained.
On one side, a piece of forest led down to a meadow where a meandering river flowed. On the opposite side of the path, the terrain rose unevenly with lots of vegetation. It was very difficult to see anything, both up and down, as there were huge areas with lots of blackberries. We were surprised when a doe suddenly stood 20 meters inside the vegetation and looked directly at us. Before the rifle could come up, it was already gone, and there were thus no real chances to shoot. We continued to the end of the trail and again I couldn't help but notice the incredibly large number of gray squirrels.
Now came sunset, but still plenty of light, so we continued to a new piece of forest, where the large numbers of pheasants fluttered about and made a lot of noise. Here suddenly a muntjac stood in front of us at a distance of 30-40 meters. Didn't manage to get a hold on it in the rifle scope before it disappeared up a slope that ended up in the field behind the forest. I followed it in the scope and were ready to fire, but now it was right up on the top of the slope, and due to lack of bullet catch, no shot was fired, despite it being clearly visible in the scope.
Now darkness came, and we could no longer see to shot in the forest, so it seemed that this evening would end without prey. We were now making no attempt to be quiet when walking back to Tom when Connor caught sight of something moving in the field next to the forest. Got the shooting stick set up but couldn't find the fallow deer he had seen in the rifle scope. Then got a look through the thermal spotter and thus the fallow deer had to pass through a hole in the trees, with the bright field as a background. The distance was measured at 110 meters, and I had to be ready. When the first fallow passed the hole I saw it clearly and distinctly in the scope, but it passed too quickly, so it didn't come to a shot. Fortunately, I kept the cross hairs in the hole, as more could come, which it did. A doe stepped out into the hole and stood, prompting me to let off a shot. The moment the shot went off I knew it was a hit low on the shoulder even though the muzzle flash was blinding and I didn't see the impact itself.
Now it was the long trip over there to the point of impact. The animal had been standing on the other side of a valley where there were holes leading to a field. In this field there was a light background, and we thought it must have been a few meters out into the field, by a large oak tree we used as a reference point. When we got over there, it took Milo the dog less than a minute to locate the dead doe that had run 30-40 meters from the shot with a low heart/lung bullet.
Thus, it was still possible to get a fallow deer that evening, which must be said to have been lucky as there was only 5 minutes of shooting time and very little light left.
Pedersen had been sitting in a tower that was located on the edge between a feeding field, along a forest and a field of winter wheat. A few fallow deer had come out, but before he could shoot, a quad bike had arrived in the field and the animals had run into the forest. Later, when things calmed down, a fallow deer had come to the meadow behind the tower, but without getting shot before it was closing time.
On the drive back to our Pub, there was plenty to talk about and even though the drive was 45 minutes, it didn't feel like it. At the pub it was just a single beer at the bar and a proper chat before the urge to sleep drove us upstairs to the rooms.
Morning number 3 in England I followed Connor again who wanted to try to call muntjac in with Buttolo game call. Pedersen followed Will, and they would try to stalk along the forest edges.
This morning was for the first time on the trip we got a little rain in the form of small showers and drizzle with a little wind. When we arrived at the piece of forest where this morning's hunt was to take place, we started as always by looking around the fields with the thermal spotter before entering the forest. It turned out that no less than 3 muntjac walked a few hundred meters out into the field we kept next to. There was still 5 minutes until shooting time, so we slowly started to move towards them in the dark. When it was time to shoot, we had entered approx. 180 meters to them, but it was still too dark for me to get a proper hold on them in the scope.
The meadow was on a fairly steep slope and there were many trees and bushes in clusters on it, where Connor suddenly spotted a fox with the spotter. The fox was approx. 150 meters below us and the muntjac were moving towards the forest on the steep field in front of us. Now what were we going to do, the light was getting better and the muntjac were out in the open where the fox was already gone in the cluster of bushes in the field again.
It was the muntjac that did not go together, but still not with more than 50-75 meters between them. Where we had now come within 160 meters of the nearest one that was found in the scope. With the 4-point shooting stick, I got a good hold on it when the light had become good enough to make a clear mark on the green background of the grass. Although it was not completely still, the bullet was released, as it would otherwise have slipped into the forest, towards which it was heading. There was a clear bullet impact, but instead of falling, it ran the last meters up towards the forest, and disappeared from the scope in the still poor light.
Connor was able to reassure me that it was a good shot, and even if it had to run a bit, Milo the Dog helped find it. We headed towards the scene of the shooting, and just as Connor had said, Milo immediately sped up and ran straight up to the dead muntjac it was laughing at the edge of the forest. Thus, this slightly wet morning had started really well, and now we had to enter the selected piece of forest.
In the very dense forest, characterized by a deep gorge with a stream at the bottom, we followed a public footpath that followed the stream. At the bottom of the gorge, the water had exposed the rocks, and in many places there were small waterfalls that filled the whole forest with the sound of running water. The slopes of the gorge were heavily overgrown with some planets that looked like palm cabbage, in addition to the ubiquitous blackberries, and overall the forest was beautiful, reminiscent of a tropical rain forest.
We only got a few hundred meters into the forest on the footpath that was made on the slope of the smell, when we spotted a muntjac walking above us. Quickly got the rifle on the shooting stick, but had a really hard time finding it in the scope due to the dense vegetation. When I finally got a hold of it, the animal had come up to the top of the slope, which would have resulted in a shot quite steeply upwards, without proper bullet back stop.
The body had become full of adrenaline in the nearly 5 minutes I had been standing with the rifle on the shooting stick, and I must admit that I had not the slightest idea whether it was a buck or a doe. Connor was then able to explain to me that it had been a strong buck that had disappeared over the edge of the cliff.
We did not continue very far along this incredibly beautiful gorge before a muntjac was spotted again. This time the slope was not so steep, and really good bullet back stop, but again the vegetation made it difficult to find the small deer in the scope. After standing for several minutes with the rifle on the shooting stick while it slowly moved around inside the thicket, it now came out into something a little more open. However, it was still very difficult to get a proper hold on the small animal between all the plants, so no shots were fired. Kept the rifle ready as it was aimed at an open spot in the undergrowth. However, it never came out where I expected it, in fact it was now completely gone and couldn't even be found in the thermal spotter anymore. We tried to find it again but had to realize it was gone, which is quite incredible when you consider that the last time we saw it was less than 50 meters away.
The path continued over a small bridge, after which it went steeply upwards, and the path ended where the forest ended and the field began. Here was an old, abandoned house, and we talked a bit about how beautiful this house was located and how long since it may had been abandoned. Couldn't see any signs that electricity had been installed, but the ravages of time may have removed such signs. Here in Denmark we don’t have such ruins, abandoned houses will be removed fairly quickly.
Now followed the edge of the field to a place where the slopes of the forest down towards the stream were somewhat less overgrown, and not very steep. Connor obviously knew the place and told me to put the rifle on the shooting stick and get ready, because now the buttolo call had to be made.
The buttolo gave its, somewhat mournful whistles, while I stood ready with the rifle on the shooting sticks to receive any muntjac that should come up from the gorge. However, we were surprised when a muntjac suddenly stood 50-60 meters next to us, actually right at the edge of the field. It had clearly seen us, but probably didn't really know how to react to such a few alien creatures that had entered its territory. My reaction was to try to move the shooting stick, which in the nature of the matter could not go unnoticed, resulted in it escaping without firing.
Well, one more good chance was thus gone on this eventful morning, so we continued on what looked like a footpath, but was clearly not maintained. After a few hundred meters Connor suddenly stopped when he had spotted a muntjac in the forest 30-40 meters in front of us. It hadn't spotted us, but went a little below us on a flat section just before it became steep again. As there was no bullet back stop, so a safe shot was not possible, even if it stood well and the distance very close. We stood for a long time and waited for it to move so that a secure bullet catch could be secured, but as so often before it turned out that these little deer are erratic and can disappear into nothing.
The pulse had picked up again, and again we stood for a long time scouting for the animal that had disappeared, before we continued to a less vegetated plateau inside the forest. Here Connor tried again with the buttolo, but this time to no avail, so as it was getting late we decided to stop for today.
Pedersen and Will had got 2 muntjacs this humid morning so spirits were high when we drove into Ludlow to have a proper English breakfast at the cafe next to the Monkey Mania playground. To my joy they had Olympic size English breakfast (I really like good food) When we were dropped off at our pub, it was only fitting that we could have a beer in the bar and talk about the experiences before it was time for a nap.
On the 3rd evening it cleared up again and the sky was largely cloudless. We were going to an area that was 30 minutes' drive from Ludlow, and Connor told us that there were a lot of fallow deer in this area, and the owner would very much like to have the population of fallow deer reduced. I was supposed to go with Connor and we didn't go for many minutes, when some fallow deer were discovered at the edge of the forest. There were good hedges along the fields, so we managed to get within 200 meters of the animals without any major problems. Connor studied them through the binoculars and asked how I felt about trying a shot from here. As there was still a good hedge for a bit, I asked if we could go the 20-30 meters closer that the hedge allowed, which Connor agreed to. In a bend over state, we therefore headed towards the end of the hedge, for here we cautiously looked up over it. To our great surprise, the animals were now gone.
Quite quickly we discovered that some people were walking and walking their dog on a field road 200 meters from where the animals had been standing. Well, that's what hunting is all about. Connor said that it was rare for people to go for a walk in this area, but he had other areas where it was downright impossible to go hunting properly in the evening because there were so many people out for a walk. There was nothing else to do but continue around the forest and hope we could find some new animals.
The next thing we found was a muntjac walking at the edge of the forest, and when it was at Ca. 100 meters away, the rifle came up quickly. However, the muntjac was constantly moving and in bad angels, so a proper shot was not possible in the tall grass. Before a shot could be fired, it disappeared into the forest, never to come out again.
Now we went back where we came from and could ascertain that fallow deer from earlier were out again, not far from the place we had previously seen them. A short distance into the forest it was possible to move reasonably silently, so that we should be able to get around unseen to a place from which there would be a reasonable bullet catch. The plan worked and while I laid the rifle up on the shooting stick, Connor measured the distance to 150 meters. Before I could send the bullet off, the animals suddenly took flight and disappeared into the forest. A quick look down the dirt road revealed that the pedestrians from earlier were now walking there again, but this time in the opposite direction.
The sun was setting, and the mood was about to go the same way, after these, for us hunters, somewhat unfortunate experiences. When we continued, however, we managed to find a muntjac walking in some tall grass. Even though the distance was only 50-60 meters, I had a lot of difficulty getting the crosshairs positioned properly on the small animal in the tall grass. The gradually poor light did not exactly help how difficult it was to assess whether a sensible shot could be inserted.
Suddenly a shot rang out in the direction of Pedersen, which caused the muntjac to stretch its neck and look in the direction of the shot. I thereby got a really good hold on the head and was able to send a bullet that was instantly fatal. Before the rifle came down from the shooting stick, another shot rang out from the same direction as before, so it was going on at Pedersen. The buck I had shot turned out to be a young buck, which again ensured that the experience I had of the evening was a really good one.
Now that the adrenalin started to disappear again after the experience with the little deer in the long grass, the curiosity came about Pedersen's 2 shots. Will called and asked us to come with Milo, as 2 deer had been shot, but only 1 was lying.
Upon arrival at the shooting site, it again took Milo a few minutes to find the missing fallow deer, which was lying in some dense thicket 70-80 meters from the shooting site. It was 2 young bucks, which I estimate to be 2-3 years old.
Since we wanted to show the English that we Vikings are not left behind, we offered to drag one of them the 500 meters uphill to a solid road. I have to admit that it was hard, really hard, but we didn't want to be left behind by the young Englishmen who easily pulled the other deer up at a pace faster than we would be able to follow them even without having to drag anything.
Now that it was dark the hunt stopped, and we drove home to Connor with the deer and rifle. On the way, however, there was talk of the many rabbits that were in the fields at night. Right now it was very soft in the fields because of all the rain so it would be difficult to shoot them with a .22 rifle from the car. However, there was another option, called Lurcher, and is catching rabbits with a dog. Connor wanted very much to show us how this sort of thing is done, so we took both dog and .22 in the car.
First, he drove into a reasonably dry stubble field, where he was stopped at the edge of a forest and a flashlight was switched on. Now you could really see how many rabbits were in the cone of light and Pedersen succeeded in killing some of them with the .22 rifle. This gave us a good impression of how many rabbits there really are, since you don't see them in daylight, you could well be led to believe there weren't as many as we were told. Here in Denmark, we only got rabbits in number on a few islands, so we are not used to hunting them.
Then it was time for the Lurcher dog. We drove into a fresh field, and he let the dog out of the car. The dog was trained to stay right around the car, and when one shined a light on a rabbit, it would run and catch the rabbit. It sounded quite incredible to us that it should be able to catch such a small, fast and maneuverable animal as a rabbit. However, it turned out that this slender dog was incredibly fast and just as maneuverable as the rabbit, so after a very intense but short chase, the rabbit was caught, and the dog killed the rabbit as quickly as it caught it. Admit that you couldn't help but be very fascinated by this, for us Danes, totally unknown form of hunting.
Then it was Thursday morning and I drove with Connor out to his family farm, where we would try to find muntjac in a forest that lay along a very winding river. When the car stopped in the field, the first thing I noticed was an incredibly beautiful old oak tree standing in the middle of the field. One cannot help but think about how old such a tree is and what has happened during its lifetime.
We passed the tree and crossed the river over a sectional bridge which Connor explained was surplus material from WW2. The riverbanks bore clear signs of heavy flooding, and one could clearly see that the water had been 2 meters higher than now because of the unusual amount of rain the week before. Connor talked about how they had caught trout and grayling in the river as kids before we went into stalking mode.
Now the field we walked on sloped steeply upwards and on the edge of the field was a forest on the slope. We followed a path up along the edge of the forest until we came over the forest and could see down into it. The whole length of the forest was seen through as best we could, and in many places, there were footprints of the little muntjac hooves. However, it was not possible to spot anyone in the very dense forest.
When the forest ended, we continued across an open but still quite steep patch of grassland with sheep. We went over towards another small forest that could be seen going down the slope where the field ended approx. 500 meters ahead. The sheep were quite interested in what a couple of strange fellows that walked across their field on this early but perfectly still autumn morning. Several times we stopped and spotted down towards the heavily overgrown riverbank below us. Muntjac would like to use the overgrown riverbanks as a path between the small forests, so there should be a good chance.
Suddenly Connor stood completely still in the middle of the field in front of me, I almost walked into him when my attention was directed to the riverbank. It turned out that a fox was down the slope Ca. 80-90 meters from us. It had clearly seen us but didn't really know what to do. The shooting sticks was set up, which the fox clearly saw, and the rifle was put on them. I immediately found the fox in the crosshairs and saw it turn to run. Fortunately, I'm used to shooting at running game, so I immediately got a good hold on it and actually released the bullet before it could start running. There was the distinct bullet impact sound from the 7x57's 165gr bullet and the fox looked for a moment like an inflated balloon before it punctured and was stone dead.
The quick shot had paid off, and thus this morning's first animal was a reality. After the fox we went back towards the module bridge to continue in a piece of forest on the other side of the river. Here in this very dense forest, we very quickly spotted a muntjac with the thermal spotter, but from spotting it to being able to deliver a safe shot can be a long way. After standing and looking for it in the binoculars for a while, we had to realize again that the small deer are specialists in disappearing without a trace.
We walked for another 20-30 minutes on a forest path which was again on a rather steep slope before a muntjac was spotted again, this time upwards without a proper bullet back stop. This time I caught the animal in the rifle scope, but due to the continuous lack of a bullet back stop I had to let it disappear over the ridge. We had to follow that trail, which took us quite a detour before we got up to where it had disappeared, and had to realize again that muntjacs are hard to hunt, because we never found it again.
It was end of this morning and when we met Will and Pedersen it could be ascertained that Pedersen had shot a nice muntjac this morning. Again we had one of those fantastic English breakfasts, before we arrived back to the pub where we could just relax for 1 hour before we had to go on a walked up shotgun hunt.
That afternoon we went shotgun hunting, where we started by driving off a piece of very wide fence. The result was that quite a few pigeons flew out that we didn't get a shot at, but also a couple of ducks that started from a large puddle, tricked us and flew away before we were in range. A rabbit came out of the thicket 20 meters in front of me, but before I got hold of it the chance was already gone again.
After a while a pheasant suddenly came out of the fence and the chance for one of the famous English hunting pheasants presented itself. It was a rear shot of the slightly easier ones, and the pheasant fell dead to the ground.
We continued without seeing any more pheasants, but there were a few pigeons, although without reasonable shot cancer, so no further shots fell. We also wanted to shoot the gray squirrels, and we saw them on several occasions. However, these small, fast creatures have a formidable ability to disappear between leaves and branches in the large oak trees where they live, so they were not shot at either.
We now drove out to a new piece of land Connor wanted to walk through with his 2 springer spaniels. This time it was a piece of forested slope with very dense undergrowth located on the fields. Pedersen walked on the stubble field above the slope and I walked on the grass field below.
Again we saw some gray squirrel, but without just being able to get a shot. Suddenly a hare jumped out into the grass field 15 meters in front of me and I managed to shoot a whole meter next to it with the 20-gauge shotgun I had borrowed.
Shortly after, shots came up from Pedersen, he shot 2 squirrels a few minutes apart before a couple of tall fast pheasants came out to me. Got a good shot at one that packed up, but never shot at the other.
Up at Pedersen it was calm, but it ended 50 meters further on when 4-5 pheasants came out to him. He managed to deliver 1. With those final shots the afternoon was over, and we drove home to Connor to get ready for the evening's rifle hunt.
Again, Pedersen followed Will and I went with Connor to a new area, where he would again try to call muntjack in with buttolo. It was again about a beautiful hilly grazing area, with large, scattered oak trees in the fields.
We initially followed some thicket/small forest until we found a good spot with bullet traps towards the area we thought the muntjac would come out of the thicket. However, it turned out that there was no interest in the call. Whether it was because there were no muntjac in the stand or they were just not interested is not known.
We now walked along a grassland border, where above us there was a wide hedge and below us the field sloped down to a stream that was partially hidden by bushes and trees. There were a great many of the big beautiful English oak trees, with lots of acorns under them in this meadow, and it was clear that the muntjac came to eat from these acorns. However, it was still too bright for them to really come out, so we again found a good place to call, hoping to get one out of the bushes down by the stream.
Connor called and this time was answered. I have to admit my heart rate went up, and it was very exciting to hear the cheerful response from a muntjac every time the mournful whistle from the buttolo sounded. After calling and listening for answers for a while, it dawned on us that the one who answered was not coming any closer, so we moved cautiously down towards it.
Now we could gradually hear clearly that the answer came from some scrub on the other side of the stream, where the terrain again sloped upwards. There were approx. 175 meters over to the thicket, and the gentle pitch provided fine bullet capture. With that, it was now a matter of getting it out of the thicket and out into the open. While I stood ready with the rifle on the shooting stick, Connor took out the thermal spotter and could see that there were 2 muntjac in the thicket ahead. One was eagerly patrolling up and down just at the edge of the stand while it answered, and the other stood slightly inside it. He thought the one that moved and answered was a buck, but it probably didn't come out because the other one that could be seen was a female animal.
Stood for a very long time with the rifle on the 4-point shooting stick and occasionally saw a quick glimpse of the animal moving in the stands, without getting a reasonable shot chance. Gradually the muntjac stopped responding to each whistle and began to settle down some distance into the vegetation, despite our continued use of the bottolo. We eventually had to give up coaxing it out and make a decision whether we wanted to wait and see if it came on its own or if we should continue. The decision was to continue as it was slowly getting dark.
We moved on to a new section that was a little flatter, and the scattered stands were replaced by real hedges. Darkness was coming and I had given up hope of getting results that evening. Suddenly, however, Connor stopped and signaled that there was someone in the field ahead.
It went 15-20 meters from a hedge, about 120 meters in front of us, and the terrain behind gently sloped upward, so there was the possibility of a safe shot. However, it had now become quite dark, and the field was also reasonably dark, so it took me some time to get a proper hold on the small animal in the scope. Suddenly it raised its head and looked straight at us. The movement meant that I now got a really good hold on it, but before the bullet was released, it set off towards the hedge. The adrenaline was pumping, and it is in such situations that one need to be calm, which I was definitely not. In my panic I pulled a little in front of the walking animal I followed with it with the crosshairs, and waited for my trigger finger to do its work. Just before the shot went off, the muntjac stopped and the bullet slipped 15-20 cm. in front of.
It stood for a second or 2, as if it didn't quite know what was flying in front of it, before it thought of getting away. In a quick sprint it was now gone, and I could inform Connor that I thought the shot was ahead. Yes, he could confirm it hadn't hit, and he also thought it was ahead.
As there were now only 10 minutes left of the shooting time, and it was not really possible to see much through the rifle scope, this evening thus ended without animals for me. On returning to the Pub, I had to congratulate Pedersen on the muntjac he had taken down last night. Thus, the trip's total number of hoof-bearing game had reached 18, which we were very satisfied with.
We were dropped off at The Wheatheaf Inn and had a proper farewell to Connor and Will. Thus ended our last hunt of this trip with these two amazing young people. As we had to leave very early the next morning, we were checked out with a beer in the bar that evening, with instructions on where to leave the key on departure.
The last morning in England on this trip was to be at Tom's, where we had hunted on Tuesday. I have to admit that the last 4 days of hunting had been hard on my 52-year-old arthritic knees, so I asked to sit in a tower. As soon as we drove out to the tower, we saw deer walking in the field behind it, but with no chance of getting to them. The tower was located in a hedge with the combination of a feeding field and winter wheat field right in front, and grass field that sloped upwards just behind the fence. Could thus look down along the divide of the fodder field and the winter wheat field, where the wheat field ended with a fence and several open fields, the fodder field ended up against a forest. Behind the tower, branches had been cut, so that it was to some extent possible to shoot backwards, and the distance from the tower to the forest at the fodder field in front was from 50 to 160 meters, which must be said to be almost perfect for shooting deer.
After sitting and enjoying the view of the many pheasants in the feeding field, we spotted a few fallow deer walking in a field approx. 500 meters away. There was of course no possibility of a sensible shot at that distance, but it was a beautiful sight to see the animals calmly walking in the field. Could see that under the tower we were sitting, the ground was completely trampled up by fallow deer hooves, so the area bore clear signs of lots of fallow deer.
After spending an hour there were plenty of pheasants everywhere. Some of them were drawn out to the relatively newly sown wheat field where they calmly walked and foraged. Suddenly, a hawk of some kind came whizzing just below treetop height from the forest. It crossed the feedlot very quickly and pounced on one of the pheasants walking in the open wheat field. Now all the pheasants came to life, which in panic and with much noise fled on foot into the overgrown forage field and some got on their wings and flew into the forest.
The hawk misplaced its prey, or didn't get a good hold of it, which was hard to judge from my angle. In a small cloud of feathers the pheasant managed to run away from the hawk which was now tumbling across the field. The pheasant got on its wings and flew into the forest while the hawk sat on the ground and recovered a bit before slowly raising its wings and calmly flying on its way. This performance was a great experience for me, and I can't help feeling a little sorry for the poor hawk that didn't get its prey, but on the other hand also happy for the pheasant that was so lucky. However, the gamekeeper didn't have much left over for the experience, he’s only words was just "bloody Hawks".
This morning also ended, and when Pedersen came back to the tower with Tom, they had not fired a shot either. A couple of times they had watched wildly along with no real chances to deliver sensible shots. Tom was also very reasonable and gave a discount on the price agreed for hunting with him this last morning in England.
When we had driven our rental car to Tom, we set off directly on the drive to Stanstead Airport, where the car had to be handed over. On the drive we thus saw the last muntjac in this round, unfortunately a traffic kill that was on the edge of the motorway. After the flight with Ryanair to Billund, the trip thus ended with a couple of tired Danes driving the last distance home to small cozy Østbirk.
Evaluation of this trip:
For me, the area was the epitome of English nature, with hilly fields where there is room for larger trees in the middle of the fields, and small forest areas with ravines and slightly scattered rocks. For a Dane, it is a beautiful and varied hunting terrain that can offer physically demanding days, but also offers opportunities for sensible hunting for those who are not in the best shape.
The guides on this trip were, for us, first and foremost Connor and William. The two young people are in a class of their own, and I must say that I have rarely met such eager and dedicated guides. Have hunted in many places in Europe and on several occasions in Africa but can say it is quite unusual that the guides do so much to ensure that we have a good experience as these two dedicated, energetic young people. Thus, I can only give them my highest recommendation.
Then comes the eternal question of the price for a couple of Danes hunting in England. It largely depends on what one expect from accommodation, rented vehicle and food/drinks. If one are a luxury animal, the final price will also be based on that. We had arranged the whole thing ourselves from home, which I had no problems with, in the internet world we live in. This obviously means that one save a little money compared to buying a ready-made tour from a Danish based hunting agency, but it is not a large amount. All in all, we could have bought an almost identical trip to England from one of the Danish hunting travel companies for approx. 15-20% more than we have given.
One don't know if the experience would have been the same, in any case we had a really good trip and it probably won't be the last time we visit Connor and his beautiful hunting area.
To all you English:
You have a great country, and we meet some hardworking good people in it, please take care good care of what you have.
We hope we will be welcome on a hunting trip again some time.
Sonny
First let me exuse for bad spelling and gramatics, as English is not my native language, there shurly we be some.
This trip was made in November 2023.
As it had been quite a few years since I had last been to England after the Muntjac, it was decided to take a trip on the small deer species again.
Unfortunately, it turned out that the contacts I had from years ago were no longer available, so new contacts had to be created. The first choice was, of course, to go to the websites of the Danish hunting companies and look at the various offers. There were several good offers, for example where hunting muntjac could be combined with hunting other species.
However, I always thought it was fun to organize something myself, so I started searching the web for contacts where you could organize such a hunt yourself. When a friend (Pedersen) who had never shot muntjac expressed a desire to participate in such a hunt, we were two hunters who wanted to go.
After some searching, I found a person in Shropshire who lived near the town of Ludlow. Connor as he was called, was contacted with a request for a 4 day hunt for 2 people, Monday through Thursday, first week of November.
A positive response came the very next day, we got 3 days with Muntjac as the main game, and one day in another area where there was a lot of fallow deer. The price was a little higher on fallow deer day, but we accepted that, as my friend Pedersen in particular wanted to try fallow deer.
Connor also offered that we could have an afternoon of "Walked up shotgun hunting", for squirrels, rabbits, hares and pigeons, with a chance of one of the famous English hunting pheasants. This was perfect, since on such trips you often have some challenges in getting the time to pass in the afternoon.
The agreement was that Connor would provide weapons and we would find a place to live ourselves. A pub called The Wheatsheaf Inn, in Ludlow town, was chosen as a base. In terms of transport, we chose Ryanair from Billund to Stanstead, where we rented a car.
The flight went without any problems, and after the bus ride from the airport to the car rental, we entered the postcode into the GPS, which thus guided us on the drive, just over 3 hours long.
It was agreed that Connor would meet us on Sunday evening at the pub so that we could plan the coming days there. The first meeting with Connor turned out to be positive, he was a healthy young man of 27 years with an alert expression in his eyes. Naturally, the conversation started with hunting as a theme, and we soon found out that the man was very competent. It turned out that we were his first clients from "Europe", so he was naturally a little nervous at this first meeting. The fact that he had Googled "Danes", where it was said that we Danes could be quite difficult to get along with, did not exactly dampen the nervousness. However, I think he was pleasantly surprised, as after a few minutes you could quickly feel that he calmed down.
The agreement was that we were to be picked up on Monday morning at 5.45, I was to go with my friend William, and Pedersen was to go with Connor.
Monday morning, we had some biscuits, chocolate and coffee in the room for breakfast. Then the trip went out into the hunting terrain. William turned out to be a young man of 22 years, and I had to go with his rifle, which was a fine older, almost unused, Parker Hale in caliber 7x57, with a Doctor 8x56 on the back.
Pedersen would then go with Connor and use his Sako caliber .222Rem, for which there was a thermal Click-on for the scope, if shooting in the dark. We were informed that we had to shoot one hour before and after sunrise/sunset.
Will was equipped with a thermal spotter, and we had only just got out of the car when he found a muntjac walking in the field. It was listed against it and on Ca. 100 meters, I tried to find it in the binoculars. It wasn't easy, but with Will holding the thermal spotter up to my left eye, I could now recognize the outline of the animal in the optical scope. The wire cross was placed where I thought the blade was, and the shot came. The animal started running, it ran around confused and headed towards a front fence at the end of the field, where you could clearly see its bright underside in the scope. Actually thought it was dead, but put another bullet in it, and now it was completely still.
My first muntjac buck on this trip was thus a reality, and the joy was great for both me and Will was equally happy.
We continued along the edge of the forest, and quite quickly spotted a larger muntjac in another field. It was quite steep where it stood, and further back in the field were large trees on the steep field that ended against a smaller forest. The muntjac was headed for these trees, and would probably go under them towards the forest behind the field, in the now rapidly increasing daylight. With the direction of the wind, a plan was made to get up on the high ground above the field, and move quickly towards the forest, then descend into the trees on the steep sides of the field, to cut off the muntjac's path. It was a good attempt, but unfortunately we saw no more of the animal, which had disappeared without a trace.
Well, then we had to continue into the forest where we thought the muntjac had entered. The forest grew in a valley, with a stream at the bottom, and was characterized by very dense undergrowth, and rather steep slopes down towards the stream.
It was difficult for a Dane like me to move around on these densely wooded and steep forest sides. However, Will was very helpful, and made sure to adapt both pace and route to my, not top-trimmed, physical form.
After moving a few hundred meters through this fantastic English woodland, we were suddenly faced with a muntjack lamb, which was in some thick blackberry thicket. The lamb was no more than about 20 meters away, and had no doubt noticed our presence. Didn't get a closer look as it ducked into the blackberries and disappeared. Not even with the thermal spotter could we locate where it actually disappeared to.
The pulse had picked up a bit, and now you were well and truly fired up. It didn't take more than about 10 minutes before Will spotted a fresh muntjack among the trees. I couldn't see it no matter how hard I looked in my optical scope, but a quick glance in Will's thermal spotter showed it some way into the dense undergrowth ahead of us. We crept 25-30 meters closer, and now estimated the distance to be 50-60 meters, where Will thought we should set up the 4-point shooting stick. I simply couldn't find the muntjack in the binoculars, and had to have a look through the thermal spotter again, where a tree that split in a Y shape became a landmark. Now, in the scope, I could find a Y, and from there a little to the left with the crosshairs. A few but long seconds passed before the muntjack moved and I suddenly saw it clearly and could place a quick shot at it. There was a bang and fall effect, the young female muntjack never heard the shot, and the first morning, had thus now yielded 2 muntjacks.
Will quickly and professionally got the animal ready, and it was then put up to the field that started above the dense English forest on the steep valley slopes, for later collection. Before we could continue we heard muntjac barking on the other side of the forest and we set off again.
Now the valley with the stream, and thus the forest, began to narrow, finally ending in a point. We took approx. halfway down through the woods on the opposite side of the stream, but it was now too late in the morning for us to see anything.
The fatigue had now also reached a point where I would have found it difficult to continue. The steep slopes and the sloppy, wet ground put muscles in the legs and feet that were not used to being used to hard work. The return trip therefore took place in the field without us doing anything to be quiet. Will didn't seem tired and without further ado he took the muntjac with him as if it were a small handbag.
It had been a really good morning for me, when we had seen plenty of muntjac. On returning to our pub, Pedersen could report that he had also caught 2 muntjac this beautiful autumn morning.
The time had passed and we had to talk, so we didn't come from the pub until 11 o'clock, in other words too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. We had not ordered breakfast at the pub as we did not know when we would be home the first morning.
Now I'm a man who appreciates good food, so I was a little annoyed that we didn't get the, in my opinion, fantastic English breakfast. However, there was a sandwich shop called Vaughan's where one could satisfy one’s hunger. Ordered 2 sandwiches, a ham and a roast pork, as I wanted to be sure to get enough food before lunch. It turned out to be excellent big sandwiches with lots of meat, so can only recommend this shop to a couple of hungry hunters who need some quick food.
It was just a quick nap before we had to leave again. This first evening I was to be accompanied by Connor and Pedersen was to be in the tower with Will. Pedersen had the thermal click-on and was assured that it would be needed as the tower he was to sit in was inside the forest itself, and it would be dark already 30 minutes after sunset.
I followed Connor into some very dense forest that lay over an incredibly hilly area. Had a very hard time seeing how this area could have become so hilly but was informed that it was actually an old open mine or gravel pit, but has been closed for over 100 years, and pretty much looked after itself since then. There were some good paths into the area, where, in addition to traces of muntjac, there were tracks of wild game, and on a good slope there was a shooting tower for 2 people.
We had been sitting in the tower for about 20-30 minutes when Connor spotted a muntjac in the dense thicket opposite us with a thermal spotter, at a distance of approx. 70-80 meters. It couldn't be seen in the scope, which was simply too close, so we had to decide whether to list to a better position, or wait until it would, perhaps, appear in the more open part of the slope in front of the tower.
We stayed seated, and after approx. 15-20 minutes it suddenly walked on the open stretch 50-60 meters in front of us. It walked with fairly quick steps, but it didn't seem like it had a goal. Had it in the scope but followed it for a while before it got the side and stood still for a few seconds. The chance was taken and the bullet hit it well, so it went straight down and gave a couple of kicks with its legs before it lay completely still.
It was still early, so the first chance of the evening had been well utilized 45 minutes before sunset. Since we had plenty of time, we decided to go out into the fields and look for muntjac under the large, beautiful oak trees that were spread over the beautiful fields. We looked for footprints under the trees, and it was clear that the little deer came to eat acorns, which we now hoped to be able to take advantage of.
Unfortunately, no more chances came my way that night, despite seeing one more muntjac in the field at the edge of a wood, we didn't get any decent shot opportunities at it. However, there was a shot when the light began to disappear, and the direction could well indicate that it was from the tower Pedersen and Will were sitting in.
A call just at closing time confirmed it was them and a muntjac had been shot but had run off into the woods. We got up to them, and it took some time to find blood in the dark, but when it was found there was no longer any doubt that the animal had been hit. The blood trail was very difficult to follow in the now totally dark forest, so Connor decided to get his tracking dog Milo.
When Milo came, he was untied, and it took less than 1 minute from where blood had been found until he had the muntjac, which was lying stone dead in some very dense blackberry thicket, only 40 meters from the point of the shot. The animal turned out to be a pretty good buck, so Pedersen decided that it should be shoulder mounted. Connor had the contact with a conservator who could take care of everything, including the necessary papers to get the head home to Denmark.
That was the end of the first evening, and we could go to the pub's bar, tired but also satisfied, for a beer before bed.
The next morning we had to get up extra early and try our luck fallow deer as main prey. The area we were to hunt in was almost 45 minutes' drive from Ludlow, and this morning Pedersen was to accompany Tom, who was the gamekeeper on the spot. I followed Connor to a patch of woods where Tom thought there would be good chances for fallow deer. We also only got out of the car and had to cross a field to get to "our" hunting forest when we saw a fallow deer at the edge of the forest. We walked along a hedge that separated 2 fields, and the distance to the fallow deer was 200 meters. Connor asked how I felt shooting at that distance and I had to say it was the maximum distance I felt comfortable with. Since we were walking along a hedge, I wanted to try to get a little closer, as for me there is a huge difference between shooting from a shooting stick at 150 and 200 meters. Unfortunately, the plan didn't work out, and we never saw where the deer disappeared to on this beautiful autumn morning.
When we got to the forest, it could be ascertained that the entire edge of the field had been trampled completely fresh by many fallow deer hooves, so there must have been a large traffic of these animals in this area. The large interchanges that entered the forest were well used and the vegetation worn by the heavy traffic.
We moved into the forest, which was not particularly dense, but with a slight drop inwards ending in a stream, it was a beautiful forest of mixed deciduous trees. The numbers of gray squirrels were impressive. These large invasive squirrels had totally displaced England's native red squirrels in this area. I also couldn't help but notice the large number of wood pigeons flying around.
After 30 minutes of searching through the forest, Connor spotted fallow deer lying down. The animal was lying at the very bottom of the forest by the stream and we managed to get into a really good shooting position. We had Milo the springer spaniel with us, and I couldn't help but be impressed by how calmly and silently it followed Connor right at his heels.
With the 4 point shooting stick I got a good hold on the head of a doe calf at a distance of about 50 meters, and Connor whispered to me that I would like to shoot it in the head if I thought I could place the bullet properly, otherwise we would have to try to get it up and standing. It must have heard the whisper because instantly it turned its head and looked directly at us. Had been told the rifle was zeroed at 160 meters, so I decided to keep 1-2 cm. low, to hit it between the eyes. The assessment turned out to be correct and the top of the fawn's head lifted to become a cloud of dust, ensuring that the animal never discovered what happened.
Wow, that had gotten a good dose of adrenaline into the blood and the feeling we hunters get at such a situation filled the whole body from toe tips to earlobes. People who don't hunt often wonder what drives us hunters to spend so much of our precious time away from family, but this feeling is what drives us.
After the animal was cleaned and dragged onto the field at the edge of the forest, we continued to stalk through the forest. However, the morning was now over, and we decided to drive back to Pedersen and Tom, to present the deer.
When we arrived at Tom's, it could be ascertained that Pedersen had shot, no less than, 3 deer, so the mood was very high. After just sitting down and having a drink and a sandwich, we decided to drive for the nearest village and have a full English breakfast which put a great end to this second morning.
Afternoon was planned for fallow deer game on Tom's patch, but what were we going to do until evening. Tom had to feed pheasants and take care of his duties as a gamekeeper, but we could go for a hunt for gray squirrels in the part of the forest Connor and I had been through that morning. These animals quickly proved to have a formidable ability to hide when hunting them, and it was indeed very difficult, for a coble of old Vikings, to get a shot, despite their numbers. Connor went in the middle with me and Pedersen on the flanks, this afternoon thus ended with 5 less of the gray squirrels in the English countryside. The dog Milo now showed that he was not only useful for rifle hunting, but also willingly retrieved the squirrels we shot with shotguns.
This evening Pedersen stayed in the tower, while I walked with Connor to a new piece of forest through which there was a public path. We wanted to stalk ourselves on the trail, and since the heavy rain the week before had made everything very soft, all footprints on the trail were very clear. There was plenty of fallow deer and in some places also muntjac. The trail was clearly not used by the public very much, there were no signs of people anywhere, although the vegetation had clearly been cut within the last few months and the trail was very well maintained.
On one side, a piece of forest led down to a meadow where a meandering river flowed. On the opposite side of the path, the terrain rose unevenly with lots of vegetation. It was very difficult to see anything, both up and down, as there were huge areas with lots of blackberries. We were surprised when a doe suddenly stood 20 meters inside the vegetation and looked directly at us. Before the rifle could come up, it was already gone, and there were thus no real chances to shoot. We continued to the end of the trail and again I couldn't help but notice the incredibly large number of gray squirrels.
Now came sunset, but still plenty of light, so we continued to a new piece of forest, where the large numbers of pheasants fluttered about and made a lot of noise. Here suddenly a muntjac stood in front of us at a distance of 30-40 meters. Didn't manage to get a hold on it in the rifle scope before it disappeared up a slope that ended up in the field behind the forest. I followed it in the scope and were ready to fire, but now it was right up on the top of the slope, and due to lack of bullet catch, no shot was fired, despite it being clearly visible in the scope.
Now darkness came, and we could no longer see to shot in the forest, so it seemed that this evening would end without prey. We were now making no attempt to be quiet when walking back to Tom when Connor caught sight of something moving in the field next to the forest. Got the shooting stick set up but couldn't find the fallow deer he had seen in the rifle scope. Then got a look through the thermal spotter and thus the fallow deer had to pass through a hole in the trees, with the bright field as a background. The distance was measured at 110 meters, and I had to be ready. When the first fallow passed the hole I saw it clearly and distinctly in the scope, but it passed too quickly, so it didn't come to a shot. Fortunately, I kept the cross hairs in the hole, as more could come, which it did. A doe stepped out into the hole and stood, prompting me to let off a shot. The moment the shot went off I knew it was a hit low on the shoulder even though the muzzle flash was blinding and I didn't see the impact itself.
Now it was the long trip over there to the point of impact. The animal had been standing on the other side of a valley where there were holes leading to a field. In this field there was a light background, and we thought it must have been a few meters out into the field, by a large oak tree we used as a reference point. When we got over there, it took Milo the dog less than a minute to locate the dead doe that had run 30-40 meters from the shot with a low heart/lung bullet.
Thus, it was still possible to get a fallow deer that evening, which must be said to have been lucky as there was only 5 minutes of shooting time and very little light left.
Pedersen had been sitting in a tower that was located on the edge between a feeding field, along a forest and a field of winter wheat. A few fallow deer had come out, but before he could shoot, a quad bike had arrived in the field and the animals had run into the forest. Later, when things calmed down, a fallow deer had come to the meadow behind the tower, but without getting shot before it was closing time.
On the drive back to our Pub, there was plenty to talk about and even though the drive was 45 minutes, it didn't feel like it. At the pub it was just a single beer at the bar and a proper chat before the urge to sleep drove us upstairs to the rooms.
Morning number 3 in England I followed Connor again who wanted to try to call muntjac in with Buttolo game call. Pedersen followed Will, and they would try to stalk along the forest edges.
This morning was for the first time on the trip we got a little rain in the form of small showers and drizzle with a little wind. When we arrived at the piece of forest where this morning's hunt was to take place, we started as always by looking around the fields with the thermal spotter before entering the forest. It turned out that no less than 3 muntjac walked a few hundred meters out into the field we kept next to. There was still 5 minutes until shooting time, so we slowly started to move towards them in the dark. When it was time to shoot, we had entered approx. 180 meters to them, but it was still too dark for me to get a proper hold on them in the scope.
The meadow was on a fairly steep slope and there were many trees and bushes in clusters on it, where Connor suddenly spotted a fox with the spotter. The fox was approx. 150 meters below us and the muntjac were moving towards the forest on the steep field in front of us. Now what were we going to do, the light was getting better and the muntjac were out in the open where the fox was already gone in the cluster of bushes in the field again.
It was the muntjac that did not go together, but still not with more than 50-75 meters between them. Where we had now come within 160 meters of the nearest one that was found in the scope. With the 4-point shooting stick, I got a good hold on it when the light had become good enough to make a clear mark on the green background of the grass. Although it was not completely still, the bullet was released, as it would otherwise have slipped into the forest, towards which it was heading. There was a clear bullet impact, but instead of falling, it ran the last meters up towards the forest, and disappeared from the scope in the still poor light.
Connor was able to reassure me that it was a good shot, and even if it had to run a bit, Milo the Dog helped find it. We headed towards the scene of the shooting, and just as Connor had said, Milo immediately sped up and ran straight up to the dead muntjac it was laughing at the edge of the forest. Thus, this slightly wet morning had started really well, and now we had to enter the selected piece of forest.
In the very dense forest, characterized by a deep gorge with a stream at the bottom, we followed a public footpath that followed the stream. At the bottom of the gorge, the water had exposed the rocks, and in many places there were small waterfalls that filled the whole forest with the sound of running water. The slopes of the gorge were heavily overgrown with some planets that looked like palm cabbage, in addition to the ubiquitous blackberries, and overall the forest was beautiful, reminiscent of a tropical rain forest.
We only got a few hundred meters into the forest on the footpath that was made on the slope of the smell, when we spotted a muntjac walking above us. Quickly got the rifle on the shooting stick, but had a really hard time finding it in the scope due to the dense vegetation. When I finally got a hold of it, the animal had come up to the top of the slope, which would have resulted in a shot quite steeply upwards, without proper bullet back stop.
The body had become full of adrenaline in the nearly 5 minutes I had been standing with the rifle on the shooting stick, and I must admit that I had not the slightest idea whether it was a buck or a doe. Connor was then able to explain to me that it had been a strong buck that had disappeared over the edge of the cliff.
We did not continue very far along this incredibly beautiful gorge before a muntjac was spotted again. This time the slope was not so steep, and really good bullet back stop, but again the vegetation made it difficult to find the small deer in the scope. After standing for several minutes with the rifle on the shooting stick while it slowly moved around inside the thicket, it now came out into something a little more open. However, it was still very difficult to get a proper hold on the small animal between all the plants, so no shots were fired. Kept the rifle ready as it was aimed at an open spot in the undergrowth. However, it never came out where I expected it, in fact it was now completely gone and couldn't even be found in the thermal spotter anymore. We tried to find it again but had to realize it was gone, which is quite incredible when you consider that the last time we saw it was less than 50 meters away.
The path continued over a small bridge, after which it went steeply upwards, and the path ended where the forest ended and the field began. Here was an old, abandoned house, and we talked a bit about how beautiful this house was located and how long since it may had been abandoned. Couldn't see any signs that electricity had been installed, but the ravages of time may have removed such signs. Here in Denmark we don’t have such ruins, abandoned houses will be removed fairly quickly.
Now followed the edge of the field to a place where the slopes of the forest down towards the stream were somewhat less overgrown, and not very steep. Connor obviously knew the place and told me to put the rifle on the shooting stick and get ready, because now the buttolo call had to be made.
The buttolo gave its, somewhat mournful whistles, while I stood ready with the rifle on the shooting sticks to receive any muntjac that should come up from the gorge. However, we were surprised when a muntjac suddenly stood 50-60 meters next to us, actually right at the edge of the field. It had clearly seen us, but probably didn't really know how to react to such a few alien creatures that had entered its territory. My reaction was to try to move the shooting stick, which in the nature of the matter could not go unnoticed, resulted in it escaping without firing.
Well, one more good chance was thus gone on this eventful morning, so we continued on what looked like a footpath, but was clearly not maintained. After a few hundred meters Connor suddenly stopped when he had spotted a muntjac in the forest 30-40 meters in front of us. It hadn't spotted us, but went a little below us on a flat section just before it became steep again. As there was no bullet back stop, so a safe shot was not possible, even if it stood well and the distance very close. We stood for a long time and waited for it to move so that a secure bullet catch could be secured, but as so often before it turned out that these little deer are erratic and can disappear into nothing.
The pulse had picked up again, and again we stood for a long time scouting for the animal that had disappeared, before we continued to a less vegetated plateau inside the forest. Here Connor tried again with the buttolo, but this time to no avail, so as it was getting late we decided to stop for today.
Pedersen and Will had got 2 muntjacs this humid morning so spirits were high when we drove into Ludlow to have a proper English breakfast at the cafe next to the Monkey Mania playground. To my joy they had Olympic size English breakfast (I really like good food) When we were dropped off at our pub, it was only fitting that we could have a beer in the bar and talk about the experiences before it was time for a nap.
On the 3rd evening it cleared up again and the sky was largely cloudless. We were going to an area that was 30 minutes' drive from Ludlow, and Connor told us that there were a lot of fallow deer in this area, and the owner would very much like to have the population of fallow deer reduced. I was supposed to go with Connor and we didn't go for many minutes, when some fallow deer were discovered at the edge of the forest. There were good hedges along the fields, so we managed to get within 200 meters of the animals without any major problems. Connor studied them through the binoculars and asked how I felt about trying a shot from here. As there was still a good hedge for a bit, I asked if we could go the 20-30 meters closer that the hedge allowed, which Connor agreed to. In a bend over state, we therefore headed towards the end of the hedge, for here we cautiously looked up over it. To our great surprise, the animals were now gone.
Quite quickly we discovered that some people were walking and walking their dog on a field road 200 meters from where the animals had been standing. Well, that's what hunting is all about. Connor said that it was rare for people to go for a walk in this area, but he had other areas where it was downright impossible to go hunting properly in the evening because there were so many people out for a walk. There was nothing else to do but continue around the forest and hope we could find some new animals.
The next thing we found was a muntjac walking at the edge of the forest, and when it was at Ca. 100 meters away, the rifle came up quickly. However, the muntjac was constantly moving and in bad angels, so a proper shot was not possible in the tall grass. Before a shot could be fired, it disappeared into the forest, never to come out again.
Now we went back where we came from and could ascertain that fallow deer from earlier were out again, not far from the place we had previously seen them. A short distance into the forest it was possible to move reasonably silently, so that we should be able to get around unseen to a place from which there would be a reasonable bullet catch. The plan worked and while I laid the rifle up on the shooting stick, Connor measured the distance to 150 meters. Before I could send the bullet off, the animals suddenly took flight and disappeared into the forest. A quick look down the dirt road revealed that the pedestrians from earlier were now walking there again, but this time in the opposite direction.
The sun was setting, and the mood was about to go the same way, after these, for us hunters, somewhat unfortunate experiences. When we continued, however, we managed to find a muntjac walking in some tall grass. Even though the distance was only 50-60 meters, I had a lot of difficulty getting the crosshairs positioned properly on the small animal in the tall grass. The gradually poor light did not exactly help how difficult it was to assess whether a sensible shot could be inserted.
Suddenly a shot rang out in the direction of Pedersen, which caused the muntjac to stretch its neck and look in the direction of the shot. I thereby got a really good hold on the head and was able to send a bullet that was instantly fatal. Before the rifle came down from the shooting stick, another shot rang out from the same direction as before, so it was going on at Pedersen. The buck I had shot turned out to be a young buck, which again ensured that the experience I had of the evening was a really good one.
Now that the adrenalin started to disappear again after the experience with the little deer in the long grass, the curiosity came about Pedersen's 2 shots. Will called and asked us to come with Milo, as 2 deer had been shot, but only 1 was lying.
Upon arrival at the shooting site, it again took Milo a few minutes to find the missing fallow deer, which was lying in some dense thicket 70-80 meters from the shooting site. It was 2 young bucks, which I estimate to be 2-3 years old.
Since we wanted to show the English that we Vikings are not left behind, we offered to drag one of them the 500 meters uphill to a solid road. I have to admit that it was hard, really hard, but we didn't want to be left behind by the young Englishmen who easily pulled the other deer up at a pace faster than we would be able to follow them even without having to drag anything.
Now that it was dark the hunt stopped, and we drove home to Connor with the deer and rifle. On the way, however, there was talk of the many rabbits that were in the fields at night. Right now it was very soft in the fields because of all the rain so it would be difficult to shoot them with a .22 rifle from the car. However, there was another option, called Lurcher, and is catching rabbits with a dog. Connor wanted very much to show us how this sort of thing is done, so we took both dog and .22 in the car.
First, he drove into a reasonably dry stubble field, where he was stopped at the edge of a forest and a flashlight was switched on. Now you could really see how many rabbits were in the cone of light and Pedersen succeeded in killing some of them with the .22 rifle. This gave us a good impression of how many rabbits there really are, since you don't see them in daylight, you could well be led to believe there weren't as many as we were told. Here in Denmark, we only got rabbits in number on a few islands, so we are not used to hunting them.
Then it was time for the Lurcher dog. We drove into a fresh field, and he let the dog out of the car. The dog was trained to stay right around the car, and when one shined a light on a rabbit, it would run and catch the rabbit. It sounded quite incredible to us that it should be able to catch such a small, fast and maneuverable animal as a rabbit. However, it turned out that this slender dog was incredibly fast and just as maneuverable as the rabbit, so after a very intense but short chase, the rabbit was caught, and the dog killed the rabbit as quickly as it caught it. Admit that you couldn't help but be very fascinated by this, for us Danes, totally unknown form of hunting.
Then it was Thursday morning and I drove with Connor out to his family farm, where we would try to find muntjac in a forest that lay along a very winding river. When the car stopped in the field, the first thing I noticed was an incredibly beautiful old oak tree standing in the middle of the field. One cannot help but think about how old such a tree is and what has happened during its lifetime.
We passed the tree and crossed the river over a sectional bridge which Connor explained was surplus material from WW2. The riverbanks bore clear signs of heavy flooding, and one could clearly see that the water had been 2 meters higher than now because of the unusual amount of rain the week before. Connor talked about how they had caught trout and grayling in the river as kids before we went into stalking mode.
Now the field we walked on sloped steeply upwards and on the edge of the field was a forest on the slope. We followed a path up along the edge of the forest until we came over the forest and could see down into it. The whole length of the forest was seen through as best we could, and in many places, there were footprints of the little muntjac hooves. However, it was not possible to spot anyone in the very dense forest.
When the forest ended, we continued across an open but still quite steep patch of grassland with sheep. We went over towards another small forest that could be seen going down the slope where the field ended approx. 500 meters ahead. The sheep were quite interested in what a couple of strange fellows that walked across their field on this early but perfectly still autumn morning. Several times we stopped and spotted down towards the heavily overgrown riverbank below us. Muntjac would like to use the overgrown riverbanks as a path between the small forests, so there should be a good chance.
Suddenly Connor stood completely still in the middle of the field in front of me, I almost walked into him when my attention was directed to the riverbank. It turned out that a fox was down the slope Ca. 80-90 meters from us. It had clearly seen us but didn't really know what to do. The shooting sticks was set up, which the fox clearly saw, and the rifle was put on them. I immediately found the fox in the crosshairs and saw it turn to run. Fortunately, I'm used to shooting at running game, so I immediately got a good hold on it and actually released the bullet before it could start running. There was the distinct bullet impact sound from the 7x57's 165gr bullet and the fox looked for a moment like an inflated balloon before it punctured and was stone dead.
The quick shot had paid off, and thus this morning's first animal was a reality. After the fox we went back towards the module bridge to continue in a piece of forest on the other side of the river. Here in this very dense forest, we very quickly spotted a muntjac with the thermal spotter, but from spotting it to being able to deliver a safe shot can be a long way. After standing and looking for it in the binoculars for a while, we had to realize again that the small deer are specialists in disappearing without a trace.
We walked for another 20-30 minutes on a forest path which was again on a rather steep slope before a muntjac was spotted again, this time upwards without a proper bullet back stop. This time I caught the animal in the rifle scope, but due to the continuous lack of a bullet back stop I had to let it disappear over the ridge. We had to follow that trail, which took us quite a detour before we got up to where it had disappeared, and had to realize again that muntjacs are hard to hunt, because we never found it again.
It was end of this morning and when we met Will and Pedersen it could be ascertained that Pedersen had shot a nice muntjac this morning. Again we had one of those fantastic English breakfasts, before we arrived back to the pub where we could just relax for 1 hour before we had to go on a walked up shotgun hunt.
That afternoon we went shotgun hunting, where we started by driving off a piece of very wide fence. The result was that quite a few pigeons flew out that we didn't get a shot at, but also a couple of ducks that started from a large puddle, tricked us and flew away before we were in range. A rabbit came out of the thicket 20 meters in front of me, but before I got hold of it the chance was already gone again.
After a while a pheasant suddenly came out of the fence and the chance for one of the famous English hunting pheasants presented itself. It was a rear shot of the slightly easier ones, and the pheasant fell dead to the ground.
We continued without seeing any more pheasants, but there were a few pigeons, although without reasonable shot cancer, so no further shots fell. We also wanted to shoot the gray squirrels, and we saw them on several occasions. However, these small, fast creatures have a formidable ability to disappear between leaves and branches in the large oak trees where they live, so they were not shot at either.
We now drove out to a new piece of land Connor wanted to walk through with his 2 springer spaniels. This time it was a piece of forested slope with very dense undergrowth located on the fields. Pedersen walked on the stubble field above the slope and I walked on the grass field below.
Again we saw some gray squirrel, but without just being able to get a shot. Suddenly a hare jumped out into the grass field 15 meters in front of me and I managed to shoot a whole meter next to it with the 20-gauge shotgun I had borrowed.
Shortly after, shots came up from Pedersen, he shot 2 squirrels a few minutes apart before a couple of tall fast pheasants came out to me. Got a good shot at one that packed up, but never shot at the other.
Up at Pedersen it was calm, but it ended 50 meters further on when 4-5 pheasants came out to him. He managed to deliver 1. With those final shots the afternoon was over, and we drove home to Connor to get ready for the evening's rifle hunt.
Again, Pedersen followed Will and I went with Connor to a new area, where he would again try to call muntjack in with buttolo. It was again about a beautiful hilly grazing area, with large, scattered oak trees in the fields.
We initially followed some thicket/small forest until we found a good spot with bullet traps towards the area we thought the muntjac would come out of the thicket. However, it turned out that there was no interest in the call. Whether it was because there were no muntjac in the stand or they were just not interested is not known.
We now walked along a grassland border, where above us there was a wide hedge and below us the field sloped down to a stream that was partially hidden by bushes and trees. There were a great many of the big beautiful English oak trees, with lots of acorns under them in this meadow, and it was clear that the muntjac came to eat from these acorns. However, it was still too bright for them to really come out, so we again found a good place to call, hoping to get one out of the bushes down by the stream.
Connor called and this time was answered. I have to admit my heart rate went up, and it was very exciting to hear the cheerful response from a muntjac every time the mournful whistle from the buttolo sounded. After calling and listening for answers for a while, it dawned on us that the one who answered was not coming any closer, so we moved cautiously down towards it.
Now we could gradually hear clearly that the answer came from some scrub on the other side of the stream, where the terrain again sloped upwards. There were approx. 175 meters over to the thicket, and the gentle pitch provided fine bullet capture. With that, it was now a matter of getting it out of the thicket and out into the open. While I stood ready with the rifle on the shooting stick, Connor took out the thermal spotter and could see that there were 2 muntjac in the thicket ahead. One was eagerly patrolling up and down just at the edge of the stand while it answered, and the other stood slightly inside it. He thought the one that moved and answered was a buck, but it probably didn't come out because the other one that could be seen was a female animal.
Stood for a very long time with the rifle on the 4-point shooting stick and occasionally saw a quick glimpse of the animal moving in the stands, without getting a reasonable shot chance. Gradually the muntjac stopped responding to each whistle and began to settle down some distance into the vegetation, despite our continued use of the bottolo. We eventually had to give up coaxing it out and make a decision whether we wanted to wait and see if it came on its own or if we should continue. The decision was to continue as it was slowly getting dark.
We moved on to a new section that was a little flatter, and the scattered stands were replaced by real hedges. Darkness was coming and I had given up hope of getting results that evening. Suddenly, however, Connor stopped and signaled that there was someone in the field ahead.
It went 15-20 meters from a hedge, about 120 meters in front of us, and the terrain behind gently sloped upward, so there was the possibility of a safe shot. However, it had now become quite dark, and the field was also reasonably dark, so it took me some time to get a proper hold on the small animal in the scope. Suddenly it raised its head and looked straight at us. The movement meant that I now got a really good hold on it, but before the bullet was released, it set off towards the hedge. The adrenaline was pumping, and it is in such situations that one need to be calm, which I was definitely not. In my panic I pulled a little in front of the walking animal I followed with it with the crosshairs, and waited for my trigger finger to do its work. Just before the shot went off, the muntjac stopped and the bullet slipped 15-20 cm. in front of.
It stood for a second or 2, as if it didn't quite know what was flying in front of it, before it thought of getting away. In a quick sprint it was now gone, and I could inform Connor that I thought the shot was ahead. Yes, he could confirm it hadn't hit, and he also thought it was ahead.
As there were now only 10 minutes left of the shooting time, and it was not really possible to see much through the rifle scope, this evening thus ended without animals for me. On returning to the Pub, I had to congratulate Pedersen on the muntjac he had taken down last night. Thus, the trip's total number of hoof-bearing game had reached 18, which we were very satisfied with.
We were dropped off at The Wheatheaf Inn and had a proper farewell to Connor and Will. Thus ended our last hunt of this trip with these two amazing young people. As we had to leave very early the next morning, we were checked out with a beer in the bar that evening, with instructions on where to leave the key on departure.
The last morning in England on this trip was to be at Tom's, where we had hunted on Tuesday. I have to admit that the last 4 days of hunting had been hard on my 52-year-old arthritic knees, so I asked to sit in a tower. As soon as we drove out to the tower, we saw deer walking in the field behind it, but with no chance of getting to them. The tower was located in a hedge with the combination of a feeding field and winter wheat field right in front, and grass field that sloped upwards just behind the fence. Could thus look down along the divide of the fodder field and the winter wheat field, where the wheat field ended with a fence and several open fields, the fodder field ended up against a forest. Behind the tower, branches had been cut, so that it was to some extent possible to shoot backwards, and the distance from the tower to the forest at the fodder field in front was from 50 to 160 meters, which must be said to be almost perfect for shooting deer.
After sitting and enjoying the view of the many pheasants in the feeding field, we spotted a few fallow deer walking in a field approx. 500 meters away. There was of course no possibility of a sensible shot at that distance, but it was a beautiful sight to see the animals calmly walking in the field. Could see that under the tower we were sitting, the ground was completely trampled up by fallow deer hooves, so the area bore clear signs of lots of fallow deer.
After spending an hour there were plenty of pheasants everywhere. Some of them were drawn out to the relatively newly sown wheat field where they calmly walked and foraged. Suddenly, a hawk of some kind came whizzing just below treetop height from the forest. It crossed the feedlot very quickly and pounced on one of the pheasants walking in the open wheat field. Now all the pheasants came to life, which in panic and with much noise fled on foot into the overgrown forage field and some got on their wings and flew into the forest.
The hawk misplaced its prey, or didn't get a good hold of it, which was hard to judge from my angle. In a small cloud of feathers the pheasant managed to run away from the hawk which was now tumbling across the field. The pheasant got on its wings and flew into the forest while the hawk sat on the ground and recovered a bit before slowly raising its wings and calmly flying on its way. This performance was a great experience for me, and I can't help feeling a little sorry for the poor hawk that didn't get its prey, but on the other hand also happy for the pheasant that was so lucky. However, the gamekeeper didn't have much left over for the experience, he’s only words was just "bloody Hawks".
This morning also ended, and when Pedersen came back to the tower with Tom, they had not fired a shot either. A couple of times they had watched wildly along with no real chances to deliver sensible shots. Tom was also very reasonable and gave a discount on the price agreed for hunting with him this last morning in England.
When we had driven our rental car to Tom, we set off directly on the drive to Stanstead Airport, where the car had to be handed over. On the drive we thus saw the last muntjac in this round, unfortunately a traffic kill that was on the edge of the motorway. After the flight with Ryanair to Billund, the trip thus ended with a couple of tired Danes driving the last distance home to small cozy Østbirk.
Evaluation of this trip:
For me, the area was the epitome of English nature, with hilly fields where there is room for larger trees in the middle of the fields, and small forest areas with ravines and slightly scattered rocks. For a Dane, it is a beautiful and varied hunting terrain that can offer physically demanding days, but also offers opportunities for sensible hunting for those who are not in the best shape.
The guides on this trip were, for us, first and foremost Connor and William. The two young people are in a class of their own, and I must say that I have rarely met such eager and dedicated guides. Have hunted in many places in Europe and on several occasions in Africa but can say it is quite unusual that the guides do so much to ensure that we have a good experience as these two dedicated, energetic young people. Thus, I can only give them my highest recommendation.
Then comes the eternal question of the price for a couple of Danes hunting in England. It largely depends on what one expect from accommodation, rented vehicle and food/drinks. If one are a luxury animal, the final price will also be based on that. We had arranged the whole thing ourselves from home, which I had no problems with, in the internet world we live in. This obviously means that one save a little money compared to buying a ready-made tour from a Danish based hunting agency, but it is not a large amount. All in all, we could have bought an almost identical trip to England from one of the Danish hunting travel companies for approx. 15-20% more than we have given.
One don't know if the experience would have been the same, in any case we had a really good trip and it probably won't be the last time we visit Connor and his beautiful hunting area.
To all you English:
You have a great country, and we meet some hardworking good people in it, please take care good care of what you have.
We hope we will be welcome on a hunting trip again some time.
Sonny
