The Hunters Chronicles - Tuesday 30th October 2012

Keen and eager to utilise the bodies of the fallen magpies (my research tells me they are edible, though "fishy chicken" is not an appetizing proposition for me) I was up this morning before dawn.

Daybreak is surely the most magical time of day.
The peace, the clarity, the promise.
Saddled up and fuelled by the mandatory caffeine I tramped down the old bridle path to the grounds upon which I would test the wits and cunning of my sky dwelling brothers.

Whilst there is some remaining semblance of natural cover and concealment from the bushes and trees still sporting leaves, I do my utmost to harness it to my advantage. This essentially means finding a gap big enough to squeeze my backside in and doesn't leave my feet poking out.

An old tractor harrow, gripped in a thorny embrace seemed ideal. The support it offered would have been useful too. Things looked most promising when, within minutes, a crow swooped in to investigate and landed on a branch to the right of my position. I took my time, lined up the crosshairs and thud. I succeeded in burying the pellet in the slimmest of branches and promptly away the guardian of Valhalla flew.

Still, it was early, the day had yet to unfold.
But I don't think it ever did.
I tried all magpies.

I tried just the one magpie.

I moved positions.

I went home.

Whilst slurping on a cup of joe I read up on crow decoying and found an entry on how a chap had had good results by plucking some of the feathers from a dead magpies breast to suggest the crow was tucking in. This, upon my hasty return, I did.

This got the attention I craved, and yet so long I sat there with the same routine occurring out of sight above my head, I fancied I learnt the language of the crow.

You'd get the lone one lazily flapping along his way, then he'd exclaim "Oh dear god! What are you doing man!" This would turn to an indignant "Errrr who are you? ANSWER ME!"
Now a bunch would join in the circular flight pattern.
"Yeah" "Yeah" "Answer" "Maniac".
Some would swoop almost threatening to land then pull away. More than once this caused me to toss my phone into the hedge mid text thinking 'this is it!' Only to find they were jerking my chain and at the arrival of a magpie chatter, would melt into the horizon with "He's not with us!""We tried to tell him"...
This set piece twice drew in offended and horrified magpies. First shot I missed and pulled right due to holding the rifle too tight.  The second ducked just at the last minute as he clacked his disapproval at my stoic and silent bird.

A while later, a third mag pie materialised. God only knows what happened with that shot. I fired and watched through the scope. He almost seemed to lean back. I heard the pellet impact, but I guess it was the ground behind.

Its hard to be certain, but I think that magpie may well have 'Matrix'd my pellet!

He flew off seemingly unharmed, I checked the trees and tracked in the direction he flew with no sign of feathers nor dead maggie. Most perplexing.
I'm out of ideas and my backside ran out of blood.
I've ordered an owl. That should do it!

I sloped off to the 'feed room' to collect my bounty,

and now await....The Raptor!

The Hunters Chronicles - Saturday 27th October 2012

As anticipated, the grey wet that has lingered over the valley and been woven among the trees, passed. With it went the warm it trapped.

In spite of the chill, the sunshine that was cast was most welcome indeed. The light lifts the mood and aids my motivation, though any plans I had made for the day evaporated with the clouds.

Around 10:37 I received a call. It was the owner of my permission and neighbour. Exasperated by the thievery of magpies, she put out a contract. I accepted it with enthusiasm. My efforts of late have reaped little reward, so the offer appeared akin to shooting fish in a barrel. A sup of coffee, and I was eagerly marching to the location.

Though the camera fails to do them justice, the contrasting mix of colours in the ferns is most pleasing to the eye.

As I neared the house, three of the miscreants were seen fleeing the scene of the crime. I circled the house after identifying the bird table that had been robbed of its offerings. The landowner was not home, so I carried on with my assessment, reconnoitre and setting up.
The bird table was in a poor position for safe shooting. Its proximity to the house narrowed options down considerably, to shoot from the direction of the house made unsafe by the farmyard and stables below and beyond it with no safe backstops.
But, there was a much much much better spot for my 'pest control'.

The raised platform proffered many safer alternatives as well as concealment. I considered siting my position below the platform, behind the tree with the rifle rested in the vee of the two trunks.

Whilst the wall would trap any over-penetrating pellets, and the platform above conceal my presence from the air.
Still scouting and weighing up the pro's and cons, I climbed up to have a quick look.
After slotting myself snugly into the corner, I was joined by my favourite of the avian species.

 As promising as the omen was, I will spare the reader the many and foul obscenities that gushed through my mind. My rifle was still in its bag. Below me.
Of course, I attempted an agonizing super slow motion crawl to try and get behind the cover of the tree trunk, but it was inevitable that I was spotted and my sharp sighted acquaintance hurriedly took his leave. Ahh well.
Very much encouraged, I set out my crow decoy along with the two wood pigeons.

The Crow decoy was later relocated onto the wall.

This time, I had brought the two wooden eggs we use to tempt the hens to go broody, and once the landowner was back, I procured a reject egg that I split and lay at the crows feet.
The railings, I knew would be attractive to any magpie curious to wish to survey the scene.

I settled down to begin the wait. The wind was very unpredictable and icy cold. Thankfully it came from the one direction, directly behind me, though in gusts of varying (and sometimes worrying) force. I was  soon grateful for my numerous layers! The hours soon merge and the concept of time fades, but it did not seem too long before the first 'Curious George' was smacked off the railings with a fatal and precise heart and lung shot.

His addition to the pattern was most welcome, and I had only just started shivering when a second was spied hopping from branch to branch then alighted onto the rail.

In the periods of inactivity I pondered the term 'pest control' with mild amusement. What constitutes a 'Pest' is completely subjective. Any annoyance is within us and therefore not based in fact. We have numerous grounds for justification of course, but nothing is truly, fundamentally, a pest.

'Control' is a myth and completely inaccurate. By shooting and killing I am not controlling numbers, I am reducing them. My activity isn't even an effective, lasting deterent. In conclusion, this was contract killing plain and simple. A more accurate term for it may be 'Bird/Animal Reduction and Depopulation'. So why, I asked myself, was I doing it?

Brownie points. Here was someone who has something I want, land to shoot over. This person wanted me to shoot on it, not only that, but trusted me and my skill enough to allow me into the curtilage of her dwelling. This was a high honour indeed, not to be dismissed out of hand, certainly not when I wish to visit this land for as long as I am welcome. It still chaffed on the morals though that I was killing a being I could not eat.

But, Gods bless him, a pigeon came to assuage and alleviate my conflicting emotions somewhat and perched barely 15 yards away with his back to me.

I gave him a swift, clean, instant dispatch in thanks.

My third 'pest' hove into view and repeated the behaviour of his fellows. Bowled off the railing, he joined my latest victim.

By now I feared for my extremities. I had been here from 11:00 and the Sun was sloping to the horizon, 15:30. The odd crow had passed, but with activity having slackened I packed up. I knew that if I hung on I could potentially bag some more, but in honesty I had done, and had had, enough by now.
A bag that impressed the owner, with supper thanks to the woodpigeon, thrown in as payment.

The walk home got the jellified blood moving again and warmed the limbs I had feared the wind had cooled to beef chunks. Still, a day spent doing what I love, though bear it in mind chaps, you want permission? Sometimes you need to put yourself out to earn it. Oh, and dress warmly eh!

The Hunter's Chronicles - Thursday 25th October 2012

By noting the date of the first frosts, and comparing to my observations, I can say with some degree of certainty that we are approximately two to four weeks ahead of schedule this year.

Every so often, the trees seem to randomly and spontaneously shiver, dropping a shower of leaves that as they fall, make a sound similar to that of rain.

Clouds, heavy and laden with moisture, find themselves snared in the near skeletal forest, trapped until the Sun eventually burns them away or the wind manages to dissipate them.

The same clouds, though they make for a grey day, keep temperatures fairly even. So it was in preparation for their dispersal and the resultant plunge of the thermometer that the procurement of fuel took precedence over meat and food. 

 These activities still provide windows for surveillance, an important part of hunting. An empty garden trolley rattling and bouncing along the woodland path can make for a lonely afternoon however...

The savvy hunter, certainly in this day and age, has a few modern technological aids at his disposal. A recent sell off of surplus rifles has released equity with which I have purchased a 'Trail Camera'. This sentinel may be secured via an adjustable strap to a tree or suitable anchor at likely 'hotspots'. This tool has provided useful intelligence on the intrusions and visitors to my little patch of woods. 

As one hunter sleeps, another prowls...

By analysing the time stamps, and recording the positions the photographs were taken, I am quickly building a picture of the various species and their habits. I am not the only one.
As shown above, a fellow hunter (albeit utilising a far more primitive and specialised 'aid') has been doing the same. I cannot say how his rabbit hunt is faring, but we have lost two chickens in as many days during the night following the pictures captured and a recent dip in temperatures. The raids have been expert. I have not proof a fox is to blame, though I do have my suspicions.
As I followed the trail of feathers of the ill fated cockerel, I experienced how easy it is to take the 'theft' personally. It was as though my ego delighted in there being an adversary. I had purpose, focus, an aim, an objective, a goal. It rapidly constructed plans of how to trap, capture and ultimately exterminate this new foe.
But he is not my enemy. Quite the opposite. We have much in common.
I will continue to offer the remains of my kills that are beyond my use to the 'gods'. Though my gifts may in fact attract carnivores I would wish repelled, I keep the site of the sacrifices on the extremes of our boundaries and trust they will appease and distract those who would take more than I wish to give. For let us not forget, I too take from my environment. I too maraud the countryside, raid and slaughter (of course, only where permitted!)

The information gleaned from my sentry has resulted in the fine tuning of my timings. I know better when to keep the rifle to hand and not long after, my tax was exacted and the toll for entering my domain paid.

As I plucked this errant bird, I marvelled at its plumage. I was fascinated at the multitude of subtle colours, more so by how, collectively, the pattern served to create one of the finest woodland camouflage patterns I have ever seen (or not as the case may be!)
I pondered how it may be put to use. I am certain my ancestors would have sought to put such a gift to good use, to provide that edge and advantage on the hunt. It also led me to question how much of the new is really better than the old. An interesting line of enquiry warranting further investigation, though for another day.

Funds were also put towards decoys. Twice into the grey I ventured out with them. One Crow, two Pigeons. The first thing to be attracted took me most unawares. A buzzard plummeted from above and booted my crow three to five feet across the deck. The hollow sound of talon upon plastic shell took him by surprise causing him to retreat a good metre. As he regained his composure I watched in fascination and awe. Half fearful he would make off with my decoy. I soon had camera in hand, though he took his leave just as I pressed the 'on' button. Typical.
The next species to be fooled, was again, not any of the ones being targeted. In many ways it is one of the potentially most ignorant and stupid of all those that walk the earth despite its capacity for awe inspiring intelligence. I'm not talking about the dog, I mean Humans!
A woman, her son and black lab were heard approaching from my left so I made my rifle safe as they passed. The footpath runs to the rear of my position, yet some choose to not to stick to it.
It wasn't long before the dog and boy bounded past. It looked, for an instant, like the labrador would pass my pattern and leave it unmolested. The boy stopped to catch his breath and bent over, leaning on his knees. The dog, no longer being pursued, had a chance to glance about and quickly investigated the birds that did not flee. He went straight for the crow and nosed it.
Bugger. He's going to make off with that, I though to myself.
The womans voice called out. The boy communicated his confusion. The lad stood not three yards to the front of my position. In the hope he would call off the dog, I shouted "They're DECOYS mate!" He cast his eyes about the hedgerow uncertainly. "I just heard a voice" he intoned, half to himself and evidently forgot the message, even that one had been issued.
For the next ten minutes, a back and forth ensued reminiscent of a farcical pantomime. The boy twice took to hurling stones at the plastic birds, the woman seemed unwilling, even fearful of approaching them. Over and over they would ask each other, why weren't the birds flying away, were they dead? Why would someone leave birds out in a field? What should they do? Should they enquire at the house?
As the dog had been put on the lead I kept quiet, watched and listened incredulously. I was dumbfounded. Eventually and thankfully, they returned from whence they came and I was left in peace. Very much amused, I packed up and counted what I had seen as reward enough. I smiled and chuckled to myself all the way home, not before congratulating myself on what must have been excellent concealment.

If You Went Down To The Woods Last Night - Monday 22/10/2012

After a couple of no shows, and following the recommendation of another trail cam owner to utilise the burst mode, I got Mr Fox on camera!

What intrigues me most is the timing of his incursion. Last time it was 20:18 with the rabbit photographed at 01:02.

The time stamp puts this latest one at 01:40. Very close to the time his prey was about.
My musing is this, was Mr Fox able to determine an approximate time to expect his meal from the rabbit faeces?

Most pleasing were these snaps;

Delicious.

Guess where my 'old faithful' TX200 and I will be lurking approximately 15:11 tomorrow!

The Hunters Chronicles - Friday 7th September 2012

Whilst my passion for, and enjoyment of, airgunning and shooting remains, I have not been out hunting for quite a while now.

Opportunities have come and gone without regret nor mourning. I have recognised them as such and have allowed them to pass and analysed my thoughts and feelings upon each occurrence.

Whilst I had designs for the Hazelnuts that grow here and intentions to harvest them, I can see that my fears of them being completely devoured by the Squirrels with none left for me are unfounded. There are plenty to go around for us both. Times when a squirrel has shaken a branch above me, even though I have had my rifle in my hands, he has continued unmolested in his foraging. I cannot justify his death solely on the grounds of perceived 'burglary' nor can I really find motivation to honour his body fully by preparing it for consumption. Which leads me to my next realisation;

I have had a much lowered desire and hunger for meat whilst the temperatures have been mild. I recall in Winter and Early Spring a hunger and lust bordering on something almost vampirical in its magnitude.

When I compare then to now, I am reminded of Henry David Thoreau's - Walden; Or Life In The Woods. In it he made reference to hunting animals and decided that he disliked the 'mess' it caused in its processing in comparison to the other foodstuffs he had available such as beans and fish. I feel that at this time of year when I have so many vegetables, fruits and nuts available to me, I can relate to his logic, albeit temporarily.

The local rabbit population has decreased dramatically on the land I had permission to shoot over and now I have been asked to end my visits until the Pheasant season ends on the 1st of February. On the one hand, this news saddens me as the fields I have roamed for nearly nine months now have become familiar and though I may not always be successful in my hunting, I do value my time spent wandering and watching. The gains will be harvested, I hope, come February when healthy, recovered, and abundant rabbit numbers greet me. The meat will be most welcome during and after the 'hungry gap'.

Recently, Blackberries and Elderberries have been a very welcome addition to my diet. I have long awaited the arrival of the Elderberries, to the point of foregoing the delicious Elderflowers, as I intend to make cordials and tonics to combat the coughs and colds of Winter.


For now, the Armoury will undergo further tweaks and changes. My .177 HW95k and TX200 rifles are now crowned with new scopes that have vastly improved my shooting. A fair number of pellets have been sent downrange zeroing and learning the half mildot reticle and aimpoints.
The .22 SMK TH208 is the next to benefit from my attentions. This requires yet more paper punching due to the different behaviour of the calibre and sharper drop off of the pellet. I hope to utilise the hard hitting medium range capabilities of this rifle in Autumn and Winter when meat returns to being a regular on the menu.  Perhaps another reason I have abstained from gunning down the squirrels, a subconscious restraint. 

I do hope those of you who have looked forward to more regular entries are not too disappointed. It would appear that this may be a rhythm of the seasons for me. I will say that Autumn is most certainly here and I expect that my avian brothers and sisters will be as eager as I am to gather all those berries that too briefly hang from the branches. I would be most grateful if the Pigeons were to take an interest!

The neighbours seeking respite from the ravenous midges, mosquitos and horseflies. An August absent Summer.