Covering every inch

Shooting rabbits over spaniels is exciting but efficiency is key, says Nick Ridley

- Nick Ridley

I have a favourite quote that comes from a book called The Old Man and the Boy by Robert Ruark. It is about a grandfather who introduces his grandson to the pleasures of hunting with a dog and the quote sums up my philosophy on spending time in the shooting field. “Hunting ain’t a competition, you ain’t trying to win any prizes. Hunting is watching your dog work, and taking it easy, and shooting just enough, walking slow, and enjoying the day…”

The last four words of that quote really sum up my all-too-infrequent trips up to the Cumbrian fells to do battle with one of the most successful mammalian invaders to inhabit our shores — the rabbit.

Over the years I have written many thousands of words on the thrill of hunting spaniels through the heather and white grass of the northlands. Yet despite countless miles travelled and endless hours on the M6, the anticipation and excitement is as great as it was the very first time I raised my AYA No 4 to the fleeing scut of a rabbit that had just been evicted from its seat by the inquisitive nose of a hard-hunting spaniel.

The Cumbrian fells are a true dichotomy; on the one hand they are a place of stunning beauty, acres of managed heather moorland, miles of hand-built stone walls, sheer cliff faces and high mountain peaks. On a fine day you can see for miles and the purity of the air and the clarity of the light is a thing to behold.

Yet within minutes it can turn into a bleak, inhospitable and downright dangerous place. Howling winds and lashing rain can come from nowhere and it is very easy to get disorientated. You realise the landscape is full of hidden perilous bogs, gullies and the dreaded peat hags. Beware of any bright green areas of the fells; these will swallow an unwary leg right up to the thigh. This happened to me on more than one occasion.

Almost perfect