Public - Air Rifle Hunting

The weekend ritual started as always with a text message to my boss on a particular part of my permission, letting him know that I was to be on site very soon. Normally this text message is not answered, and on the odd occasion I do get a reply, it’s normally along the lines of “ok” or “fine” but this time the message was more ominous. Discretion is a large part of this job, and anything that makes me stand out and draw attention to myself is generally considered a bad thing. As my boss explained to me, he wants the vermin controlled but he wants me to be as low profile as possible whilst carrying out this work. The message I received was asking me to stop off round the boss’s house as he needed a quiet word with me. My mind started racing in an attempt to think of what could have happened or gone wrong. Playing the last few weeks back in my mind there was nothing I could actually think of so I just had to wait until I got on site and all would become apparent. On arriving, I was met by my boss along with his two Labradors and after the usual greetings; we got down to brass tacks. It seemed that there had been a complaint against me for using threatening behaviour against two young girls on site. At first, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing and was speechless for a second or two and then things started to fit into place as it dawned on me what was going on. The incident took place the week before and was vastly different to what was reported which was what threw me when I first heard the “charges.”

In order to explain what happened, I will have to describe the permission to you a little. The reason that discretion is placed at such a high priority is due to the fact that there are a number of public footpaths running through the site and it’s not uncommon to see joggers, kids riding their bikes or people out for a stroll. Things are naturally quieter in the autumn and winter but this spell of hot weather we’ve had has brought the public out in droves. Being such a lovely place to hunt and shoot, I sometimes forget that the public must view it in the same light as me and get out as much as they can. As well as the main footpaths, there are a number of smaller ones running off these and although these are mainly frequented by early morning dog walkers, you do get the occasional rambler venturing along them. Now this has never been a problem in the past. Many times I have waved or even stopped for a chat with these people, who up until now have been friendly. They often ask what I am shooting, to which I reply honestly that I am controlling the squirrels and rabbits. The dog walkers seem particularly interested and due to the fact that I generally have two or three dogs with me at any given time, it’s with these people that I chat the most. A few people have seemed shocked when they first see me, which is only natural as you don’t expect to see someone in camouflage carrying a rifle with three ugly dogs in tow when you go for a stroll. Because of this I always wear my site badge prominently clipped to my jacket and make a point of greeting whoever I see just to break the ice. This has worked in the past and I had every reason that it would carry on working. But I was wrong in this assumption.

On the morning in question I was shooting rabbits and attempting to get my lurcher pup to pick them up and bring them back. Her retrieve is intermittent at best and so I try to put in as much work as I can. She is good on the dummies, dropping a little short on occasion, but when it’s the real thing you can guarantee a lap of honour and a good ragging followed by the odd nibble. It was with this in mind that I was knocking over a few rabbits for her. This was great news for everyone concerned as it suited my boss and me, provided the dog with training and the ferrets with food. After the third rabbit had been paraded out of reach by the pup, I decided to call it a day and move on to another part of the site with a bit of squirrel shooting in mind. After legging the rabbits which I hung from my belt, I walked up a line of fir trees which happened to border one of these little used footpaths with the mutts trailing behind me, noses to the ground. In the distance I could see two people walking at right angles to me and once they had spotted me, they stopped and stared. At first I thought these two men (for they were definitely men and not “young girls”) were workers from the farm, but I had gotten to know most of these over the course of having this permission and as I got closer I didn’t recognise them. There was a chap in his late forties and a younger man of around 25-30 and they were standing there staring at me. I continued walking and I didn’t take my eyes off them, meeting their stare with my own. Shouldering my rifle so as to make myself less intimidating, I got to within about 20 yards when I muttered “morning.” With no reply forthcoming, I shrugged and they walked on with the path taking them away from me now. Carrying on, I simply thought them as odd and pushed this from the back of my mind.

Pigeons had detoured me from my original intention of going after the squirrels, and I found them to hard to resist so I took about half an hour out of my schedule and bagged a few for the pot. With these safely stuffed in my smock pocket, I made my way back to where I had parked the car. Once I had entered the field where I had parked, I could see the car about 300 yards away and lo and behold, the two blokes I had seen earlier, were peering in through the windows and generally giving the car a good look over. Fearing that my motor was about to be stolen, I sent the dogs ahead on command and they ran hell for leather over to the car. There was no barking or threatening behaviour from the dogs, they simply served to bring the two snoopers attention to the fact that they had company. As soon as they realised they had been rumbled, they were away in their own car which was parked out of sight from where I was standing. Looking back I should have said something to my boss, but as far as I was aware, there was no harm done and I don’t like moaning and telling tales anyway. What didn’t occur to me was that I have a Countryside Alliance sticker in the rear window, along with a pro hunt sticker too. These two blokes would have known that this car belonged to me as you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to work that one out. There was also the tell tale feral pigeons on the back seat too, which was further proof should they have needed it.

Obviously during the week that had passed from this incident to me receiving the complaint against me, these men had complained to my boss that two young girls had been threatened. Why they chose to say this when the reality couldn’t have been further from the truth was becoming apparent to me. Maybe these two guys think of themselves as “girls?” Nothing would surprise me these days. I am pretty certain that the real reason that the men became women in this instance was to add weight to a non existent complaint and to get me in trouble. I can only assume that these men had taken offence to me due to the fact that I was hunting and that this was something they disagreed with to the extent of going out of their way to complain about. As I was doing nothing wrong, they had to invent part of their argument in order for them to have a leg to stand on. They must have realised that if two grown men had phoned my boss and said that they took exception to my hunting on his land, they would be told it was none of their business (or words to that effect) so time for a little spin on the truth. Doesn’t it sound much worse when people threaten children, especially female children? Well they knew this and they used it to make a point. If they had been any sort of real men, they would have fronted me when they had their chance. Instead they sneak about, lying and conniving to make matters worse, attempting to show a law abiding bloke controlling vermin on permission as some sort of bully, with unpleasant undertones in there for good measure. Obviously this pair are spineless or they would have said something.

After explaining all of this to my boss, the air was cleared and he understood completely as he trusts me and a good working relationship is based on this. Leaving his place, I carried on with my normal routine and went shooting but all the while I still had a bitter taste in my mouth about this incident. I hope to God that I bump into these men again as I would like a word with them. I won’t threaten them or assault them, but I would like to talk to them. Somehow I just don’t think that is going to happen though.

A week later I was on the same bit of permission, with all three dogs with me, just mooching about on the off chance of a bit of sport. The weather was really hot and it wasn’t even 10.00am yet. Because the corn had been cut recently, the air was very dusty and the dogs were parched. Their tongues were hanging out and we hadn’t been out for long. Fortunately there are a lot of streams and lakes on another part of the site, so my intention was to have a little shoot over this side and then move over to the wetlands to give the dogs a good soaking. The cornfields are bounded by thick hedges which afford lots of cover now the corn had been cut. As we were walking along the hedges I was thinking of the evening ahead as I had my mate Graham coming down to have a run on the foxes with his Saluki crosses and I was hoping for a good few courses as this land holds a fair amount of the redskins. Just as I was verging on a good old day dream, the pup exploded from beside me and she was tearing after a fox that had popped up from the hedgerow. She’s run a few foxes before, but won’t connect so I thought here we go again! Jinking from one side of the hedge to another, the fox was making a monkey out of the pup and it was very difficult for me to follow the course. By the time I was through the hedge, they’d moved back to the original side. Being a lot smaller than the pup, the other two dogs were at a distinct disadvantage as they were unable to see the fox for the long grass and weeds. This didn’t stop them charging around trying to pick up the scent though and soon all three dogs were on the chase. Taking us the length of two large fields, the fox would fleetingly give the terriers a glimpse of its brush when it ran the stubble. This encouragement served to frustrate the dogs as they soon lost it again once it had entered the hedgerow. Deciding upon running the length of the fields on one side of the hedge, I noticed that the dogs seemed to have lost Charlie, only for him to resurface, running slowly and silently towards me. Turning the fox back, the lurcher had soon spotted him again and the course was back on. Talking a chance, the fox broke cover and headed off across the stubble which seemed an odd decision, but then that’s what pressure does for you. Turning him as he broke, the lurcher pushed him into a large bramble bed by the fir trees I mentioned earlier. Despite the brambles being silent, the little black bitch never hesitated on entering the cover and she soon had her quarry judging from the sound of things. Leaning my rifle against one of the trees, I tentatively walked into the brambles, ignoring their ripping against my legs, pushing forwards to where the bitch and the fox where. No sooner had a picked up the fox (which turned out to be a vixen) by the back leg, I looked up to notice a bloke on the footpath about 10 yards away! My initial thoughts were “not again!” and as the bloke walked towards me, I could tell he was going to say something. Dropping the fox on the ground and hoping and praying the dogs wouldn’t rag the carcass too much, I met this bloke’s gaze and prepared for the worst. I needn’t have bothered worrying as it happened, as the first thing this bloke said was “Had much luck?” Breathing a sigh of relief, I told him that I was the resident pest controller and that the foxes were vermin but all he was interested in was the dogs who were now ragging as if this was the last fox on earth! My nerves were still jangling a bit, but this fella seemed keen on hunting and proceeded to tell me his boy had an air rifle. After some small talk, we said goodbye and he went on his way. As soon as he was out of earshot, I phoned my boss to let him know what had happened. Still not really believing my luck, I told my boss to expect another complaint about me and I gave him the full story as a pre-emptive strike. It’s cynical of me to expect the worst from people, but you never can tell and due to the actions of the two men the week before, I wasn’t taking any chances. My faith in human nature was somewhat restored when no complaint came in and this of course, meant that the bloke must have been genuine.

In the space of two weeks I had experienced two hugely different ranges of the social spectrum as far as hunting is concerned: those who would use lies and deceit to further their cause and those who have a genuine interest and passion for hunting and our way of life. I’d always been cautious before, but these incidents have made me even more so now. It’s heartening to know that the antis have to resort to deception to make a case for themselves but it can be a little disconcerting when you are on the receiving end. We should all realise that we are all, every one of us, on the frontline in this war, making us ambassadors for hunting and our way of life and we should never give anyone any ammunition to use against us. Dealing with people is a constant exercise in public relations for us hunters and whilst I am not too comfortable with this, it has to be done.

Roll on the dark nights and nasty weather!

Written By Richard Christian