By sheer coincidence last night just as I was getting out of the car to set up for foxing the young lad who I have been mentoring came past in a tractor big enough to make Jeremy Clarkson jealous, saw me and pulled in, leaving all the lights on including two enormous spinning orange dervishes which swept the surrounding clearly now foxless countryside like two mad lighthouses!
Once I got over the shock of seeing him dismounting and the idea of all sixteen years of him driving such a beast (and pulling a slurry trailer - combined weight likely well over 10 tons) I was actually really pleased to see him as exams have really got in the way the last month or more. So there we stood chatting away for 20 minutes and eventually and obviously reluctantly off he and his leviathan went leaving me once again in pitch black.
Soooo, what to do now? Obviously anything living would have been alerted to our Sounds and Lights Show but it was a lovely warm, dark night and the half moon was still below the horizon so I thought giving it a go was a better option than home and tv.
I lifted the rifle and sticks, walked 10 yards from the car (NB - no Jimny), opened the lane gate and closed it silently then did a quick Axion sweep of the field which I swear still had an orange tinge from the tractor’s lights and just in from the far hedge saw a small heat signature. Too small to be anything of interest thinks yer man so walked another 10 yards and started the hand squeak. Swept the fields again and the small signature was still there but appeared to be slightly closer than previously. Odd, no rabbits here, too small for a badger so slightly puzzled I kept squeaking and watching the signature through the thermal (who said men can’t multi-task?) - no obvious movement but still something there, then up popped it’s ears!
It reacted to the squeak by slinking slowly forward, belly to the ground (apparently on rollers) and clearly very focussed on the source of the squeak. Up with the rifle, on with the Sirius and (for a change) a press of the Pard’s right buttons in the right order and there it was - a fox doing a very slow commando crawl towards me but still maybe 150 yards off! Now I have seen foxes do this before over the last few close-range yards but never from so very far away, how odd!
Back to the thermal and as I was watching, for reasons unknown it suddenly sat up and it’s demeanour changed from silent stalker to one of passing interest, looking all around and only very occasionally my way, but now going nowhere - especially my way.
I now had a real problem, the shot was certainly possible but as can hopefully be seen above, in the near distance was a large bungalow which pretty much filled the Axion screen so I really had to move to make safe the shot. As luck would have it I was standing on a loose-stoned lane where every move would rattle off into the distance alerting one and all to my presence but I had no option. Sooo, lifting the entire ensemble of rifle as deployed on B&Q’s finest and doing a very good impression of Tom in a Tom and Jerry cartoon where he slips sideways on his toes (toes resembling a pianist’s fingers in full symphony) off Iclattered slipped, pausing a few times to check the fox and angles.
To my surprise the fox was still in situ and after a good thirty yard segue the angle was now good for the safe shot. As is so often the case the coup de fox was a bit of an anti-climax, sticks steady, cross-hairs on centre chest, breathing relaxed and a gentle squeeze of the Remmy‘s trigger and away went 50gns of Hornady’s finest - a solid “whumppp” confirmed what I saw in the Pard’s screen and down he went. Job done - don’t you just love the triple deuce?
Now ordinarily I would be quite pleased with myself with that outcome but I couldn’t help feel a bit disappointed for the young fella who is really keen to get out at night and see or even shoot a fox but exams and revision precluded this. Had we known we could have left the tractor and got a shot not 40 yards and only minutes from where it was parked up for I am certain by it’s belly crawl and demeanour that the fox had been watching us all along - they really are amazing creatures. Thanks to technology I had been able to see an apex predator in full stealth mode and heading straight for me; then presumably decide that maybe this rattling eejit was not a food item after all but rather a bit of a puzzle (correct) which merited only passing interest - what an absolute privilege to witness.
Even more annoyingly the lad had been looking through the thermal before he went but only on the other side of the road so events really conspired against us.
Shame really but there will be other times and other foxes….
Once I got over the shock of seeing him dismounting and the idea of all sixteen years of him driving such a beast (and pulling a slurry trailer - combined weight likely well over 10 tons) I was actually really pleased to see him as exams have really got in the way the last month or more. So there we stood chatting away for 20 minutes and eventually and obviously reluctantly off he and his leviathan went leaving me once again in pitch black.
Soooo, what to do now? Obviously anything living would have been alerted to our Sounds and Lights Show but it was a lovely warm, dark night and the half moon was still below the horizon so I thought giving it a go was a better option than home and tv.
I lifted the rifle and sticks, walked 10 yards from the car (NB - no Jimny), opened the lane gate and closed it silently then did a quick Axion sweep of the field which I swear still had an orange tinge from the tractor’s lights and just in from the far hedge saw a small heat signature. Too small to be anything of interest thinks yer man so walked another 10 yards and started the hand squeak. Swept the fields again and the small signature was still there but appeared to be slightly closer than previously. Odd, no rabbits here, too small for a badger so slightly puzzled I kept squeaking and watching the signature through the thermal (who said men can’t multi-task?) - no obvious movement but still something there, then up popped it’s ears!
It reacted to the squeak by slinking slowly forward, belly to the ground (apparently on rollers) and clearly very focussed on the source of the squeak. Up with the rifle, on with the Sirius and (for a change) a press of the Pard’s right buttons in the right order and there it was - a fox doing a very slow commando crawl towards me but still maybe 150 yards off! Now I have seen foxes do this before over the last few close-range yards but never from so very far away, how odd!
Back to the thermal and as I was watching, for reasons unknown it suddenly sat up and it’s demeanour changed from silent stalker to one of passing interest, looking all around and only very occasionally my way, but now going nowhere - especially my way.
I now had a real problem, the shot was certainly possible but as can hopefully be seen above, in the near distance was a large bungalow which pretty much filled the Axion screen so I really had to move to make safe the shot. As luck would have it I was standing on a loose-stoned lane where every move would rattle off into the distance alerting one and all to my presence but I had no option. Sooo, lifting the entire ensemble of rifle as deployed on B&Q’s finest and doing a very good impression of Tom in a Tom and Jerry cartoon where he slips sideways on his toes (toes resembling a pianist’s fingers in full symphony) off I
To my surprise the fox was still in situ and after a good thirty yard segue the angle was now good for the safe shot. As is so often the case the coup de fox was a bit of an anti-climax, sticks steady, cross-hairs on centre chest, breathing relaxed and a gentle squeeze of the Remmy‘s trigger and away went 50gns of Hornady’s finest - a solid “whumppp” confirmed what I saw in the Pard’s screen and down he went. Job done - don’t you just love the triple deuce?
Now ordinarily I would be quite pleased with myself with that outcome but I couldn’t help feel a bit disappointed for the young fella who is really keen to get out at night and see or even shoot a fox but exams and revision precluded this. Had we known we could have left the tractor and got a shot not 40 yards and only minutes from where it was parked up for I am certain by it’s belly crawl and demeanour that the fox had been watching us all along - they really are amazing creatures. Thanks to technology I had been able to see an apex predator in full stealth mode and heading straight for me; then presumably decide that maybe this rattling eejit was not a food item after all but rather a bit of a puzzle (correct) which merited only passing interest - what an absolute privilege to witness.
Even more annoyingly the lad had been looking through the thermal before he went but only on the other side of the road so events really conspired against us.
Shame really but there will be other times and other foxes….
