It was early one morning in that grey, cool period of late August that the first picture of a pheasant feeder with its lid knocked to the floor popped up as a message on my phone. Sent by the keeper, most likely while on his dawn patrol, the accompanying caption was short: “Greedy muntjac.”
I wasn’t surprised; it marked a familiar point in my stalking year when certain areas of the estate become more difficult to approach — or even out of bounds — and others become a priority. For me, the required change of tack spells autumn much like falling leaves, blackberry crumbles and ghastly premature Christmas displays.
Dreams vs reality
With the first days of the season not far away and birds roaming free from their pens, the luxury of entertaining the desire for that unforgettable stalk must sit on ice for a few months. A mile’s hike across rough terrain with a leopard-crawl finish is dreamy stuff, but the reality is mostly a little more vanilla, particularly when the ground in question is home to a game shoot.
Culling becomes more focused. Spots that can be reached without disturbing too much game move to the top of the hit list. It’s a balancing act between keeping numbers of feeder-bothering, drive-emptying deer at an acceptable level where it counts, and making sure I’m not persuading pheasants and partridges that they’d be better off finding someplace quieter to live. Get it right, though, and it’s an opportunity to remind the keeper how much of an asset you can be.
Diese Geschichte stammt aus der September 22, 2021-Ausgabe von Shooting Times & Country.
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Diese Geschichte stammt aus der September 22, 2021-Ausgabe von Shooting Times & Country.
Starten Sie Ihre 7-tägige kostenlose Testversion von Magzter GOLD, um auf Tausende kuratierte Premium-Storys sowie über 8.000 Zeitschriften und Zeitungen zuzugreifen.
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