Ferreting In The Dales 3
With Christmas and all of the associated celebrations out of the way, it was time to think about heading north for a few days for a spot of ferreting. I’d originally been heading north anyway as my sister was getting spliced but as is so often the case, the wedding had been called off which meant that I’d cancelled the terriers kennelling I’d booked over the holiday period. This had been booked well in advance to avoid my usual routine of running around like a blue arsed fly trying to find lodgings for the tykes, but despite my early preparations, I was in exactly the same position as I always am – trying to find kennels at the last minute. I actually had a stroke of luck and hit upon a fairly local operation that had just started up and consequently they had a couple of places left and they were relatively cheap to boot. With that particular problem sorted I was free to concentrate on the trip ahead.
As the trip was concerned with ferreting, the only dog I was taking was my brindle collie cross bitch who at two and half years old was really coming into her own of late. She’s been taken up north on a regular basis as I don’t have that kind of work for her where I am so she knew the score when it came to load her into the boot of the estate. An uneventful journey in which the dog stood all the way (an unusual habit of hers since a pup) found us at our destination six hours later. The threat of snow from the media seemed to have held off except for a heavy downfall going through Nottinghamshire but that didn’t last long.
The hunting I was to be doing was with my good friends Matt and Carl who live for the business of catching rabbits with ferrets and dogs, to the exclusion of all else! Having brought my lamp in the hope of a quick dazzle over the fields once I’d arrived, I was disappointed to find a blanket of snow covering my home town, making it too light for a shine. With this minor set back, I settled myself round Matt’s house with a few cans (and more than a generous helping of whisky!) and we talked about what the plan of attack was the next day.
Arriving at 8am, the Land Rover pulled up outside my house and no sooner had the lads jumped out of the vehicle than I was out of the door, kit in hand, ready for the journey down to the dales. The journey down is always spectacular if uneventful. Spectacular due to the scenery and the breathtaking views which make you want to move there, however bleak and harsh the winters might be.
A short climb up what appeared to me to be a fairly steep slope, but to Carl and the Land Rover was simply food and drink, we fell out of the jeep and started getting our gear together, helped with a few pulls of Jameson’s from Matt’s hipflask. The whisky warmed us up a treat and with all of our gear in order and the dogs stretching their legs, we headed off through an old gate, up onto where we’d be working. We kept to the tradition which we’d developed over the last few years, with Matt going one way and Carl and I heading off in the other direction. Carl hadn’t brought either of his bitches this time as he felt that they were hindering my bitch the last time we were out, as my bitch seemed to defer to the older dog when it came to picking up the rabbits. I think it’s a case of Carl’s bitch being such a great ferreting dog that my bitch was a bit overawed and simply let the older girl do her thing, which would be fine if it was a case of taking numbers off the hill, but Carl kindly decided to let my bitch work on her own and see how she got on. We honestly didn’t know how she’d do so it was a case of watching closely and anything that resembled a mark would be honoured with a ferret down.
We needn’t have worried as it happened as the first mark we got the dog was proved right. I was slightly nervous in this instance as I really didn’t know what would happen but in went the ferret and out came the rabbit. As it happened, this time the bitch was unsighted, so we had nothing in the bag but were happy that we’d had a positive mark. In cases like this, something Carl said to me rang very true. Due to the number of rabbits and holes on the dales, it’s very reassuring to see your dog NOT marking holes as it shows that she’s using her brain and her nose and not just pointing to every hole she comes across. I don’t doubt that you could have occasions where you could ferret every bury you come across and get a result, and who’s to know that the ones that the dog didn’t mark didn’t actually hold, but at least this way, you are ferreting the ones the dogs is telling you there’s something home and you are working in tandem with your dog.
The bag started to fill mainly due to digging to Carl’s hob and jill but the first bolt and catch was a revelation to me. This bitch of mine always likes to give the rabbit a good head start (obviously a good sense of fair play!) and this bolt was no different. With ground that looks flat to the naked eye, the rabbit was disappearing behind the many hidden dips and tufts of grass and reed with the bitch on its tail after the initial slow start. After a couple of turns the distinctive squeek of the rabbit reached our ears and told us that it was another for the game carrier. Now I fully expected a walk over to the bitch to pick this rabbit up, but a hunch told me to wait and the wait paid off. I won’t lie and tell you she did a textbook retrieve, but retrieve it she did and I was very pleased with her. With the rabbit stretched and the dog’s head patted, we moved onwards and upwards, watching the dog for the tell tale sign of a mark. She hasn’t got the distinctive mark of say either Matt’s or Carl’s dogs, hers is more subtle as she’s still learning the game. She generally lifts a leg, pointer style, but a look or shift of the head indicated to us that something was home.
As we got further up the hill, Carl mentioned that there was a flat bit over a rise which was where we were headed. The rise itself was fairly shallow but the dip on the other side was very steep and made entirely of scree and boulders. Making our way down using the wall to steady us, we made the bottom without incident to find the dog pawing at a hole at the bottom of the scree, giving us the most positive mark of the day. As we didn’t really want a bolt here but we did want to honour the mark, we entered the harder jill ferret and stamped the ground above the small sett in order to persuade the rabbit to sit still for a dig. With another bunny in the bag, we made our way along a short distance to another mark from the bitch at the foot of the rise, which was in what looked like to be a slightly bigger bury. With the rock face in front of us, I think we both assumed any bolter would head along the flat, giving the dog a good chance of catching. Needless to say, the rabbit bolted and headed straight up the scree, much to the amazement of both Carl and I. With open mouths we both watched the rabbit “climb” up the rock face, followed in what appeared to be slow motion, by the lurcher. Carl had the camera around his neck and was so gobsmacked that he totally forgot to take any pictures and I don’t blame him. We both winced as the rabbit and dog picked their way up through the rocks, praying that no injury befell her as she disappeared over the rise. With some quick thinking and no small part of wishful thinking, Carl had the camera ready should the bitch have made the catch. As her head crested the rise into view, to my astonishment she did have the rabbit in her mouth and then proceeded to pick her way back down the rock face to retrieve a strong, healthy rabbit. I couldn’t actually believe this was the bitch I’d fed and housed for two and a half years! I’m not sure if I was showing it on the outside, but inside I was as pleased as I’d ever been! The day was just getting better and better.
Time seemed to have flown by and as we’d had a later than usual start, it was time to think about making our way back to meet Matt and see how he’d done. From what we’d seen of him earlier on, him and his bitch (my bitches mother) had been doing exceptionally well. The last Carl and I saw of him, he was ferreting a vast bury and every time I turned round his bitch seemed to be snapping up another rabbit. What came across to me was the different styles in catching the two dogs had. Whereas my bitch would give them a head start, Matt’s bitch would be snapping them up not far from the holes. I suppose this is experience and if my bitch ever turns out half as good as her mother I will be one happy man.
As we met up with Matt and his bitch, we’d both had a good do, with Matt carrying slightly more rabbits than we had by the looks of things. After comparing the two dog’s performances, we were off back down the hill with both dogs still packed full of energy. These creatures never cease to amaze me. They work in some pretty atrocious conditions, in this case snow, hard ground and rock, and yet they generally come off the tops completely unscathed.
The journey home saw us arrange another outing for the next day for slightly further out than we’d done today.
The next mornings forecast was for more snow and wind and the weathermen weren’t wrong this time. The Land Rover saw us to the foot of the hill again and the farmer had told us that this was the first morning the gritter had been seen, which due to the remoteness of the area, shouldn’t really have surprised us. We spotted the gritter coming down the hill we were planning on travelling up, so we waited for it to pass. Not everyone is fortunate enough to own a Land Rover though as we passed a man in a Jaguar, wheel spinning about a third of the way up the slope. God alone knows how he thought he was going to get that car to the top of the hill!
Once parked up, we again split up with Matt and the brother to my bitch heading off at right angles to us, as Carl and I made our way up the hill. What was immediately apparent was that the wind was up more than the previous day and that really did cut through us. Whilst we were walking it wasn’t too bad, but once we stopped, you really felt the cold. This was especially the case when digging in the snow and frosty earth. At one point I thought my finger nails were going to split they were that cold.
The land we were working wasn’t as fruitful as the previous days and the dogs were having to work harder to find the bunnies. The holes weren’t as apparent but once you’d got a mark, what you thought was a couple of holes soon turned into double figures and sometimes dozens. With some of the warrens being so big, the rabbits were giving the ferrets the run around and bolts were not forthcoming. But come they did and the dog worked hard for no return on this occasion. We did bolt one who ran uphill and dropped in another sett, with the dog on its tail all the way. She was just a shade too slow for the catch, so we put a ferret in and dug the coney out for the dog.
With the cold really biting hard now, we made our way back to the jeep and found Matt already there, sampling his whisky laced coffee. Although small, the final tally of seven had been hard won and capped a cracking day out in great company. Over the last few days I’d seen my dog shape up into the makings of something that might be useful when out ferreting and had the privilege of seeing lads and dogs showing me how it should be done. I like to say yet another thank you to Matt and Carl for their excellent hospitality, without which I just wouldn’t have the opportunity to expose my dog to the work she was bred for.
All the best