The burnished body of a pheasant cleared a yonder tree line, its wings beating strongly in the radiant sunlight of a morning not far spent. Once clear of the branches, the bird settled into a long glide, carrying it from the timbered ridge top to a lighting place on the far side of a deep ravine. A ravine in which I stood with a shouldered shotgun.
“I’m supposed to shoot that?” I muttered to a gentleman on my left elbow. His face broadened in a smile.
“Get on with it.”
Encouragement hinted in the command of the Englishman. Twin tubes of steel swung skyward, their trajectory lustfully following the long tail feathers of the bird high above. I fired, then fired again, each shot woefully behind the rooster in what seemed a futile attempt at a too distant target. I glanced skyward to behold another soaring pheasant, this one slightly higher than the first. Thirty paces to my left, the shotgun of another hunter arced smoothly. A single muffled report sounded in my “ear defenders,” and the hen’s flight halted like the dash of a pointer pup reaching the end of a check cord. Ian’s smartly downed bird re-arranged my notions of the improbable and possible. I fired on the next target with some modicum of confidence.
The region of Exmoor in the south of England is a giant, geological catch basin from which flows the river Exe. Tributaries branch from this broad stream into the countryside, welcoming rainfall from the lush pastures and hedgerows and finding more permanent sustenance from seeps and springs. Cleaving the contours of this quintessential countryside in Devonshire are numerous deep ravines. Streams wind through their bowels, dashing over limestone and pooling quietly along narrow green meadows. Towering oak, beech and evergreen trees thrust from their canted sides, creating hideaways for red stags and roe deer.
Denne historien er fra Spring 2020-utgaven av The Upland Almanac.
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Denne historien er fra Spring 2020-utgaven av The Upland Almanac.
Start din 7-dagers gratis prøveperiode på Magzter GOLD for å få tilgang til tusenvis av utvalgte premiumhistorier og 9000+ magasiner og aviser.
Allerede abonnent? Logg på
Tailfeathers
The essence of fly fishing, I think I've decided, is time.
Ten Questions with Tim Flagler, Fly Tyer/Cook Extraordinaire
Culinary Creations from Gordon Hamersley
GREY on the Wing
Hands clutching the wheel of a large, lumbering vehicle whose vintage and purpose partially prompted the invention of \"powering steering,\" disengaged the clutch and applied the brakes, bringing it to a stop.
James Purdey & Sons Ltd.One of London's "Best"
At the conclusion of a recent breakfast meeting of the Shrewsbury Men's Club of Massachusetts, I was packing up my show-and-tell aids after giving a presentation.
WAWAWAI
I don't chase chukars anymore, but from the time I was 16, chukar hunting had been my favorite bird hunting endeavor.
A FAIR EXCHANGE
Among the concerns faced by many small community gun clubs here in the Northeast is our inability to attract and maintain new and younger shooters.
Coming to Heel
I'n the world of gun dogs, it's not unusual that retrievers are taught to heel.
Bird Dogs - Health Matters
Avoiding Medical Mishaps on the Road
MATT HART
Matt Hart, owner, designer and artist of Hartist Metals, is a highly skilled metal sculptor based in the picturesque Catskill Mountains of New York.
Luigi Franchi Imperial Monte Carlo Extra: One of Italy's "Best" SxS Doubles
As on London’s gun-maker’s row, Italians had skilled craftsmen who made “Best” guns of superb quality