Hunting in the good old days.

ivanthehunter

Post your stories of hunting in the old days here lads, you have to admit that the older lads among us can teach the younger ones a thing or two and to be fair the auld yarns are a nice read.;)

Re-loading in the good old days:cool:
I meet an old fellow recently in south county tipp...got talking about shooting he told me about the old days when he and his 24 brothers:eek: would often go hungry. He was going on about the price that his old dad had to pay for shotgun shells and he went on to tell me how his old dad re-loaded his own..:eek:
Yes he did...
Basically he would pop the cap out and tap it out to its original shape, then a few matches would be sourced. the match heads were scraped of with a razor blade and the scrapings were then rolled in to a powder with a milk bottle or similar..This powder was used to prime the cap. He claimed that back in the old days it was easy to get sulpher and salt peter at the chemist.. the best charcoal was pinched from the local priest as he used it for incense in the Catholic ceremonies.. . so with the primer and the powder sorted, he only had the lead shot to worry about.. That was easily sourced from the local builder, the lead was melted in a ladle and the molten lead was poured through a sieve and this formed the shot albeit a bit rough on the barrel.. He claimed that only one out of four would miss-fire..:cool:

Does anybody know any other stories of hunting in the old days or where you can buy old style matches:rolleyes:

meathstevie

Should have held on to the blunderbus I found in the rafters

It wasn't me!

meathstevie wrote: »

Should have held on to the blunderbus I found in the rafters

You didn't?! now that's a poor decision. It'd be like a punt gun for rabbits.

thehair

meathstevie wrote: »

Should have held on to the blunderbus I found in the rafters

hi meathsteve is that rifle on the RESTRICTED LIST
from steve:rolleyes: ps is there a long stand for that rifle:D

ivanthehunter

i met an fellow down in kilkenny a while back, he told me how he shoot rats in the shed with out causing damage to the corrigated iron. The plan was easy, he would open up a shot-gun round and remove the lead shot. The lead shot was replaced with barely or corn, this made short work of the rats by giving them a belly full of corn:D..

meathstevie

All joking and messing aside now, what I wouldn't mind seeing reintroduced is the paper cartridges. A lot more environmentally friendly than plastic ones. And if anyway possible reintroduce cork wadding as well.

flanum

meathstevie wrote: »

All joking and messing aside now, what I wouldn't mind seeing reintroduced is the paper cartridges. A lot more environmentally friendly than plastic ones. And if anyway possible reintroduce cork wadding as well.

can this be done during re-loading? (does anybody reload there own 12g cartriges anymore?)

Mellor

ivanthehunter wrote: »

the lead was melted in a ladle and the molten lead was poured through a sieve and this formed the shot albeit a bit rough on the barrel..

I think he might of been pulling you leg. I don't think a sieve would make lead shot, the lead would likely merge as it passed through, the sieve would also clog. It would of been easier to use a lead ishing weights, or drop the lead into water from the top of the church roof.

thehair wrote: »

hi meathsteve is that rifle on the RESTRICTED LIST
from steve:rolleyes: ps is there a long stand for that rifle:D

Work away, its not a rifle but a smoothbore shotgun, and it would have none of the features of a restricted shotgun, but alas ammo wouldn't be found.:D

foxshooter243

I think he might of been pulling you leg. I don't think a sieve would make lead shot, the lead would likely merge as it passed through, the sieve would also clog. It would of been easier to use a lead ishing weights, or drop the lead into water from the top of the church roof.

In the bristol shot towers the lead was poured through a sieve into the quench bath below so its plausible.

ivanthehunter

I suppose it must be a good few years ago since an honest man got paid a prize bounty for the bushy tail of a fox at the local Garda station.. I'm not sure of the year or the amount of money paid but it was all in old money and prob took place in Black and White;).. I seem to remember being told a 'half crown' was the rate or thats how the story went.
I met a wise old man when i was but a boy and he taught me a thing or two about snares and such like. He was the type of man who would drown kittens in a bag and shoot cats on the spot.. He was no stranger to hunting with the auld gin trap and he had caught them all!! whether they crawled, walked, ran or flew it made no difference to him. He snared fox, badger, rabbits to boot and cats if he could. He took the time to tell me the they things had to be done and i listened intensely to every word as a young boy would..
It was he who told me of a particular scam he often pulled on the local cops:rolleyes:
He was well known by the Garda, for claiming reward money on fox tails!! He used to get the few bob for pints, so i'd imagine that he was in the Garda stn as much as he was in the local:p:p
Well He and a few other smart bucko's figured out that longer they kept the tails and the more the allowed them to rot the stronger the smell would become and the quicker the cops would put them out in the bin rather than keep them in the stn for counting.. He would nip in around that back of the Garda Station and promptly recover his smelly tail:D
and off to the next Garda Station with his tail between his legs for another 'Half Crown';):cool:

Mellor

foxshooter243 wrote: »

In the bristol shot towers the lead was poured through a sieve into the quench bath below so its plausible.

Yes a sieve, but not a domestic one. and they also had to drop 100-300ft
Short drop into hot water would of been easier

chem

The story about match heads makes some sence. potassium chlorate and red phosphorus were used for match heads. Potassium chlorate been strike and friction sensitive. The red phosphorus (red matches)was later replaced because it was found to cause jaw rot. A condition caused by inhailing the fumes from burning phosphorus. The chemists yoused to stock salt peter (potassium nitrate) and sulpher can still be bought in Vets. Word to the wise;) if you ever do have potassium clorate NEVER EVER mix it with sulpher. It becomes super sensitive to friction and has a habbit of going off all by its self.

So using it as your primer for a shotgun shell with black powder is a very bad idea:eek::o

foxshooter243

Mellor wrote: »

Yes a sieve, but not a domestic one. and they also had to drop 100-300ft
Short drop into hot water would of been easier

early shot makers made lead shot by pouring molten lead through a sieve over a barrel of water, the sieve being defined as a mesh with the correct size hole .it wasnt till 1783 that william watts of bristol patented the idea
of the shot tower in order to produce perfectly spherical shot that shot was dropped from height so its plausible it may not have been the best shot ever produced but quality control may not have been high on his agenda:rolleyes:

Mellor

Read my last post again, yes a sieve was used, defined as a mesh, but not a domestic sieve, the mesh required is much larger and a domestic one would clog.

ivanthehunter

Mellor wrote: »

Read my last post again, yes a sieve was used, defined as a mesh, but not a domestic sieve, the mesh required is much larger and a domestic one would clog.

i never said what type of sieve and the old bloke never told me what type of sieve,, so thats that.:D

foxshooter243

Mellor wrote: »

Read my last post again, yes a sieve was used, defined as a mesh, but not a domestic sieve, the mesh required is much larger and a domestic one would clog.

ivan has just settled that matter hasnt he:eek:

Mellor

Apparently so,
It must of been quite handy to have a large sieve for making shot, especially when he was stuck with using matches, milkbottles, charcoal from mthe church for the rest. Shame he wasn't up to speed as the sieve was no longer used to lead shot for over 100 years now. Less than an inch drop into boiling water and an inclined plane was deamed better.


I heard a funny story about a lad who "repair" his S/S stock when a large chip broke off the side of the grip, exposing the end of the reciever. When he went to use it though, his work wasn't up to scratch. Most likely due to what ever way the gas blew back into the reciever (old gun wear around pin etc) the piece blew off on the first shot, resulting in a scorched lip and a black mark.
He bit the bullet and replaced the gun after that.

foxshooter243

Mellor wrote: »

Apparently so,
It must of been quite handy to have a large sieve for making shot, especially when he was stuck with using matches, milkbottles, charcoal from mthe church for the rest. Shame he wasn't up to speed as the sieve was no longer used to lead shot for over 100 years now. Less than an inch drop into boiling water and an inclined plane was deamed better.


I heard a funny story about a lad who "repair" his S/S stock when a large chip broke off the side of the grip, exposing the end of the reciever. When he went to use it though, his work wasn't up to scratch. Most likely due to what ever way the gas blew back into the reciever (old gun wear around pin etc) the piece blew off on the first shot, resulting in a scorched lip and a black mark.
He bit the bullet and replaced the gun after that.

I dont think ivans friend was familiar with the bleimeister method of making lead shot and the home made manufacture of a sieve is hardly rocket science, and lead shot is not dropped into boiling water as the temp of the water is controlled according to the cooling rate,which depends upon the size of the shot as well as the purity of the lead. once again its very plausible, mountain men in the old west used to roll it in frying pans using sand and ashes as a rolling medium ..needs must

Sikamick

ivanthehunter good thread, interesting stuff.

I have a very old book on drop traps , snares , gin traps and long netting, I must have a look for it and PM you the name.

Nice to see something other than politics.

Try and keep it going, I'm sure that there is a lot more old stories out there.

cavan shooter

My Father and his brothers where all keen shooters from an early age. Back in the late fortys and early fifties, you shot food for the table and went after the bounty on the foxes to suppliment your income, it was a bit more than a Hobby. My dad had a number of Dogs but two that he always talks about was a black lab called Sam and a red setter called hazel.

He was brought up in and around Baldoyle, Baldoyle, Balgriffin and Portmarknock are in North Dublin and even when I was growing up the nearest decent sized village was coolock or Raheny. It was all countryside (How things have changed):(

One night he was after geese in Baldoyle and he dropped one as it was getting dark. Sam went after the goose and after a good half hour calling the dog never came back. He went home very upset thinking he lost the dog. He was sitting down drinking tea before he went to bed when he heard whimpering at the back door. He opened the door and standing there was Sam with Goose.......

As a child during the war he tells some great tales about liberating pheasants and partridge from lands not welcoming of shooters:D as their was still a couple of estates in that neck of the woods

meathstevie

It's really gas Cavan Shooter, what you're telling reminds me of a couple of friends of my dad's who were a good bit older than him telling stories about hunting ( legal and illegal ) on the outskirts of Brussels in the 30's and 40's. All the places they talked about are exactly the same as Baldoyle, Portmarnock, Raheny, Swords,...now.

ivanthehunter

:eek:That seems like a fair price!!
It was a morning like any other, the type of morning which had be witnessed in these parts a thousand times before. The only sounds to be heard were the noises of nature and perhaps the hollow grinding sound that the cart wheels made on the dew soaked gravel as the farmers sons and a few local lads went out to gather the harvest.
I am speaking of a time long ago, a time back in the days before the irritating smell of tractor engines, a time during the era of the 3 packs of woodbine's with their 3 free matches. It was a time when brothers worked together and men were paired up by build and size for their use on the crosscut (two man saw). It was an age ago:( a time governed by the rise and fall of the tide and the setting of the sun. Work was planned in relation to the weather sign and men knew their stuff when they made a call on mother nature.
NO TIME FOR THAT NOW!!
The brothers(farmers sons) were boisterous and brash but above all the were brothers, and in a funny way they always had a touch of devilment about them.. This particular harvest season they had spotted a pheasant sitting on the high end of the Field only a stones throw from the track, they had clapped eyes on him(cock) every day for the last 3 or so days and now this cock pheasant was tempting faith;) They being boys of an adventurous nature and no strangers to the odd bet;) swore there and then a prize to the man who bagged the pheasant.;)
I suppose all manner of attack was discussed and they talked about the use of this implement and that contraption and after a few drinks had been taken and the talking was over the candles were quenched it was the hour for bed. All were soon asleep except for one!!:eek: a mouse down raiding the larder, the two legged type, it was a young man called bobby the eldest of the brothers, and he had a plan and he was determined to win the prize and rub his brothers noses in it!
Soon it was morning and with the horses all harnessed up and fed and watered, the brothers sat down for there own breakfast. Not a word was spoken about the prize or the quarry as the father was sat with them and he would not entertain any such betting of foolery. The father had his ways and that was that if you didnt like it you could speak to the belt;)
Plates were licked clean and jackets put were on, a crust of bread thrust in one pocket and a bottle of milk in the other and 1 or 2 woodbine hid in the trouser leg turn-up, bobby was ready for action! and he had been up the Track before the rest were even out of their beds:rolleyes: and his plan was running smoothly. They stuck nose bags on the horses while the hitched up the hay rake to one and the Cart to the other. Nose bags off and and a tip of a stick on the horses rear and off they went.. They were all chatting about the pheasant and arguing as to who was the smartest boyo in the bunch and who'd claim the victory, as they drew closer to the brazing birds haunt. There stood the pheasant in all its glory for all to see. Bobby let a call at the horse to stop and he and one brother walked over to wards the pheasant. The pheasant was having none of it and made a dash for the cover of the briar's. But these were the days when a pheasant was wild and smart, they ran around the bushes a few times but any time they got close the pheasant he would run out another hole and spot them coming and go the other way.
They weren't long about giving up there tiring chase. The morning went fast, as did the work. The Cart had made a dozen trips to the haggard by midday and they,d get a few more in by dinner time.
There was a call from the house- it was the call to food. The last of the nose bag was tied on and the lads made the trip to the house on foot, as they rounded the corner low and behold there was the pheasant taunting them. Bobby told the lads to stand back that he would outsmart this cocky cock. The brothers laughed at bobby and told him he had no chance. "Well then lads well see about that" said bobby as he walked up to the greedy pheasant. the pheasant mad a dash for it but wasn't too clever when it ran into the hedge and missed the hole, it tried running the other way but simply fell over, all the time bobby was closing in for the kill, the pheasant made a last ditch attempt at flying over the hedge but failed to even get off the ground by more than a foot. bobby's weathered hand was soon on its throat and the whole thing was over.;) The brother were going wild and they couldn't believe what they had just seen.. They told bobby that catching a sick pheasant didn't count and that all bets were off.. Bobby replied - "this birds not sick and i caught it fair and square and to prove I'll give you one of these little boyo's" from his pocket he pulled out a few raisins and asked the brothers to have a good sniff:eek:. They did, and the said they could smell whiskey:eek:. Bobby went on to tell'em how he had dried the raisins on the range and had stole a glass of whiskey from the fathers supply and soaked the raisins over night and put them out as bait early in the morning, while the other clowns were sleeping.... Bobby was the king cause the pheasant was drunk HALE KING BOOBY:D;):p

ivanthehunter

"chatting" was not done proir to 1914. chatting was the removal of lice from the human body during world war 1??????

ivanthehunter

There are several methods of catching pheasant, most are not practiced anymore and most people would say good riddance to the old way and they would justify their belief in the efficiency of the modern gun: that said there was a time when cartridges were none too cheap and all methods of attack on game were justified by the need for food! that said this was another little trick that i picked up on my travels around old Ireland, when a man has no gun and no access to whiskey and raisins:rolleyes: there exists one or two more methods to catch and outsmart the old cock pheasant. An old fellow who lived in a house in meath told me this one, he was truly from another era, he lived in a house with muck floors and had all his money saved.. Anyway ill get to the point, he would sus out the location of pheasants and with this he would gather the necessary equipment, a few horse hairs(long as possible) and a few peas in the pod, in the quite evening before the birth of the 'box' and in the flicker of the flame light and with the blessing of good eye sight he would start to thread the horse hairs through the peas, the hairs were pulled through the peas until the pea appeared to be in the middle of the hair, I'm not sure of the amounts involved here but i,d think he had no time to be on the boards:D. With that an early morning stroll was in order, and just before dawn he would set of for ground zero,,,, with his organic ammo;) When he landed at the desired spot he would proceed to bait the ground with a few handfuls of peas with the odd one laced with the horse hair, There he would lie in waiting till a greedy pheasant would start gobbling up the peas like they were on the endangered list;).. this frenzy of feeding would continue till the poor cock ate one with a horse hair,, the pheasant would start to panic thinking that it was choking on the hair. It would use one leg at a time to try and draw the obstruction from its crop.. in the commotion the auld fellow would be sneaking up on the QT.. The poor old pheasant would be too busy fighting for life with the killer hair. The auld farmer would kindly introduce Mr pheasant to a stick called the priest:D:D:D:D:D
I really need some time off work;)

ivanthehunter

Sikamick wrote: »

ivanthehunter good thread, interesting stuff.

I have a very old book on drop traps , snares , gin traps and long netting, I must have a look for it and PM you the name.

Nice to see something other than politics.

Try and keep it going, I'm sure that there is a lot more old stories out there.

maybe but no body is spilling the beans;)....

COME ON COME ON. WHERES THE STORIES LADS.. all ammo and no craic! me thinks huh??:rolleyes:

meathstevie

Similar to your pheasant and whiskey storey Ivan. One of the dad's friends/mentors used to spread dross from the local brewery in my hometown on stubble fields. Always claimed that picking woodies was a lot lighter work than picking spuds. I suppose he was talking about the 1950-60's.

whitser

cavan shooter read in your reply you hunted the fields of baldoyle etc...thats my neck of the woods. spent my youth hunting them fields with a motley crew of lads and dogs. would i know you by any chance?

Sikamick

ivanthehunter wrote: »

maybe but no body is spilling the beans;)....

COME ON COME ON. WHERES THE STORIES LADS.. all ammo and no craic! me thinks huh??:rolleyes:

_________________________________________________________________
Sorry for taking so long in getting back but here is the name of the book,

Shire Album 34 Trapping and Poaching by Arthur Ingram.

It is very good, throwing sticks, game kites , treadle deer trap, gin traps and man traps , all illegal now thank God.

ivanthehunter

It was a cold a frosty morning, truth be know it was nearer night than morning really, when bobby went up the hill to check the snares early in order to beat the old Fox on his morning prowl. Bobby was an expert rabbit man and had learned his craft here in stagstown in rathfarnham, its now called stackstown and it a golf course but back then it was part of a large farm owned by one of the richest families in the area. Bobby was born in 1908 and when working in stagstown at the age of 16 it would have been 1924. Here he meet up with an English man who worked on the estate operating a steam engine. This English man first introduced bobby to the art of how to set a snares and that was that, bobby was hooked for life.. It was probably the arthriticus that put an end to his snaring of rabbits rather than the fact that while in his thirties he had lost an eye from an infection caused by a prod from black thorn bush thorn..
Bobby was that dab hand (efficient) at setting snares that he would often catch a full quota or as many rabbits as he had snares. Well once he caught more but that another story and i’ll leave it for another day. Being so good at catching rabbits he was shocked to find most of his well set snares empty!! He was wild that the fox had got the better of him.. Anyway he continued on about his business and went home for the breakfast and a full day’s work on the farm.
Later that evening he set off with his snares and a plan to out smart the red dog(fox). He set his snares as usual and went home for a pint or some tea. Again he arose early and set off across the fields and up the hills he went, on arrival at the spot where the first snare was set he was upset to see no rabbit and no snare?? He kept going, and on checking the next snare it to was rabbitless but the snare was left, it was obvious that the snare had been opened after it had successfully caught a rabbit, he was able to tell this because of the years of experience he had.. He was still half thiking that t was the fox but there was something strange about the whole thing. He continued on and checked the rest of he snares and it was the same everywhere, they where mostly empty.. he went home puzzeled as to what the bloody hell was going on. He decided to give it a miss for a night or two and said he. Have a few pints...
Monday evening was soon upon him and he gathered up his snares around an hour before darkness consumed the land and just as jack frost was coming out to play. Off he went determined to set the best snares he had ever set and to be up the earlest he had ever been to se what was going on. He set the snares the same as always, perfectly. He went home a got a little sleep. He was soon up and on the road again, he couldn’t remember a time when he had been up so early other than calving. Anyway he was still too late to foil the thief, the bloody snares were empty.
Something strange was surely going on, and it was starting to lose the strong smell that a fox leaves.
Tuesday’s snares were set and Bobby had a sneaky suspicion that a two legged thief was involved and he had a first rate plan to prove his point without staying up all night on the side of the mountain.. Bobby went home and decided to have a short sleep in the wooden chair. He picked the wooden chair as he really wanted to wake up super early to put his plan into action. He woke up nearly as stiff as the very chair he’d slept in but was very keen to get the ball rolling. There was still a few embers on the fire and he managed to get a mug of tea together. A mug of tea and a fag was all he needed to get him going.. He took a bit of grease proof paper, he ripped it in to small pieces and wrote his full name on each on.
It was around 4am and the air was sharp, he had been trawling over his snares for the last 30 mins and was surprised to find them all full with rabbits except for a few. He dispatched three rabbits with a tip to the neck and then took a piece of paper with his name on it and using his finger he shoved it down the rabbits throat. A forth rabbit had managed to break its own neck and it also had a piece of paper placed in its throat.. bobby decided take half the rabbits with him after setting the trap.
He got his brother to cover for him while he made a trip down to rathfarnham village where he made a systematic search of all the local shops who sold rabbit. He asked the shop keepers if he could take a look at the rabbits on offer. He was well known by all the local shop keepers as a supplier of rabbit and as such they would not have had any suspicions of him having a look.
In the last of the shops he looked in, he was lucky enough to find one of his rabbits with the paper in its mouth with ’bobby’ wrote on it! He promptly called the shop keeper to alert him to his findings and having showed the shop keeper the evidence and having told him his story the shop keeper offered bobby the name of the suspect rabbit seller.
Bobby being a fair man and a big man from a big family called up to the suspect’s house and had a word in his ear.. And that was that
CAUGHT RABBIT HA HA

flanum

dont know how far ye hav to go back,... is 1981/82 early eighties too soon to be considered "old days"?

(i posted this on another thread but anyway)...


me and me dad used to make a point of going out early spring the odd sunday with muzzled ferrets, solely to net a dozen healthy rabbits, hopefully with a few pregnant does and release them in various un rabbited locations by request.
used to put them in hessian sacks (can ye still get them?) for some reason they really calmed down and didnt wriggle much once they were sacked.
we'd then drive off to designated townland and release 3 in this field, 2 another field etc, usually as close to gorse as possible, i presume theyd be freaked out for a day or two and sought the gorse shelter until they got their diggin shoes on!!!
we often went back weeks/months later to check, some places feckin thrived some didnt.
funnily enough, we never ferreted the places where we released them, even years after. suppose it was a bit of "they were caught once, no need to catch them again"!

foxshooter243

That story reminds me of my father doing the same thing way back in the 40s..he caught up rabbits and moved them much closer to home in order to have a handy reservoir of rabbits close by, cos in them days rabbit was on the menu fairly often..even today when i drive past the spot as theres a road running through it today, i always look to spot one of my oul fellas rabbits..how times have changed.

ivanthehunter

I was told of an infestation of rats in a spot in Tipp, nothing strange about that:D.
The problem was allegedly solved with a simple solution.
A barrel was placed in the problem area. A smallish hole was cut in the center of the lid and food was placed around the hole in such a fashion as to lure in the rats. Allegedly the bait was placed in such style as to resemble a steep cliff all around the hole. When a rat fell in he would be unable to escape and sooner or later he would be joined be his brother or sister but they wouldn't have been quit as hungry;) Each rat eating the next, so on and so on!!
Bit of a horror story i know!!! but all the rats would eventually disappear and the last fellow would simply starve to death...

ivanthehunter

I was in the earshot of a bloke from Barnsley a while back, he was a bit crazy but he had the type of childhood that most of us only ever dream of, days spent after deer with dogs, out nesting and eating there fair. He'd be catching black birds before the were able to fly and eating them. He told be a thing or two, one of which is in the following.
Many years back before the UK population had easy access to firearms a time existed in which people were more self reliant and they took note of the observations the witnessed in nature.
Some where back in these harder times someone noticed that seabirds who swallow food in one go where an ideal victim for a baking soda attack;)

Baking soda wrapped up in some neat delivery device(a fish skin) is thrown to the greedy blighters and its swiftly consumed.
The problem occurs when it becomes apparent that these birds have no ability to vomit like us humans.
As i was told, the gases made by the baking powder are made so fast as to literally blow the seagull up to the point where they explode.
This was classed as easy fair for the hungry locals...
Now does any one think that this is possible??

Sparks

I've heard such tales from my father from when he was a kid. They've allways horrified me though, up there with cutting the legs off songbirds and letting them fly off. Pure and utter cruelty. If you're going to kill a thing for food, kill it quickly and as painlessly as possible. Torturing an animal like that, it's just plain sick in the head.

thehair

Sparks wrote: »

I've heard such tales from my father from when he was a kid. They've allways horrified me though, up there with cutting the legs off songbirds and letting them fly off. Pure and utter cruelty. If you're going to kill a thing for food, kill it quickly and as painlessly as possible. Torturing an animal like that, it's just plain sick in the head.

spot on sparks 100%:Dsteve

BryanL

it becomes apparent that these birds have no ability to vomit like us humans



If birds couldn't vomit on demand they couldn't feed their young. FFS lads don't believe every story you hear,espically from old story tellers.
Eating blackbirds?:D:D:D how big was the man? as big as a magpie?:rolleyes:

ivanthehunter

I agree with the ethical killing quick approach but this is a thread about hunting in the old days and i am only the messenger. Personal i wouldn't try this one:D but I'm only filling in the thread olden stories of hunting methods in all their golry..:eek:

If you don't believe it then, thats cool as thats what i have asked posters. Do you believe this one or not?;)

Sparks

ivanthehunter wrote: »

I agree with the ethical killing quick approach but this is a thread about hunting in the old days and i am only the messenger.

In the old days, the same ethics applied. They aren't new, they're very, very old.
And as to "only the messanger", re-read your first line in the first post of this thread.

ivanthehunter

Sparks wrote: »

In the old days, the same ethics applied. They aren't new, they're very, very old.
And as to "only the messanger", re-read your first line in the first post of this thread.

Get a grip man, there was no such ethics in the olden days, The only old ethic that rings true in any of the old cultures was not to kill for fun and so called sport, but murder by any means was only a means to a end.

Vegeta

ivanthehunter wrote: »

Get a grip man, there was no such ethics in the olden days, The only old ethic that rings true in any of the old cultures was not to kill for fun and so called sport, but murder by any means was only a means to a end.

Are you trying to say ethics are a new, modern day invention?

Also the old (how old we talking here, the guy you are talking about is still alive so he cant be that old) cultures did hunt for sport and fun, especially in England. That's where the word "sporting" comes from.

Either way that story is complete sh1te for several reasons.

ivanthehunter

Vegeta wrote: »

Are you trying to say ethics are a new, modern day invention?

Also the old (how old we talking here, the guy you are talking about is still alive so he cant be that old) cultures did hunt for sport and fun, especially in England. That's where the word "sporting" comes from.

Either way that story is complete sh1te for several reasons.

I never said the story was true! infact i asked for opinions of posters as to whether they believed it or not.

A point on ethics:
Remember that hunting ethics is the preserve of those who are not hungry!
yes there are examples of ethical hunters through out the world but they are out weighed by other less ethical methods.

Your are correct to question the period of history in which i suggested a lack of ethics, but to be fair i was answering a vague question posted by sparks, in which he made reference to "old, very old"
I will say this: that in England while one select group of people enjoyed hunting and relaxation and luxury it is most probable that there was another group who were not so fortunate and they never gave a second thought to ethics......

Remember that the business of hunting is a grizzly task when it comes to the final blows. IMO there seems to be undertone within the hunting community that at some stage, history portrayed hunting in a romantic light.
It is obvious to all that there is little romance in feedings ones family.


I'm not trying to encourage such irresponsible behavior-terms and conditions apply.

Sparks

There is a difference, Ivan, between killing something quickly (even if it's a grisly sight) for food; and leaving fishhooks in bread to catch seagulls for sport. The latter (and the other stories like it) are just plain sick.

ivanthehunter

Sparks wrote: »

There is a difference, Ivan, between killing something quickly (even if it's a grisly sight) for food; and leaving fishhooks in bread to catch seagulls for sport. The latter (and the other stories like it) are just plain sick.

What other stories do you make reference to? Who mentioned using fish hooks to catch seagulls? I think you should have another cup of coffee.....before you start your daily work as critic a la boards.

Being realistic and to the point this is only a story and i,m making it know that i am unhappy with the direction of the comments and their nature.

cheer up sparks, Cork will never be beaten again:p

Sparks

ivanthehunter wrote: »

What other stories do you make reference to?

See my first post on this thread.

know that i am unhappy with the direction of the comments and their nature.

I'll make a note of it :rolleyes:

cheer up sparks, Cork will never be beaten again

Until we play them again anyway.