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A bit of foxing
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07-04-2010 3:29pm#1Sunday March 14th
It's been a fair while since I was out lamping. The stork will be dropping lambs beside my ewes in about ten days time so it's time to see what's going bump in the night. What a change there has been since last I was out. I dressed for the cold, thermals etc. That was so not the right move.
The plan of action for tonight is to drive up the little road across from my farm and have a shine across the valley, it's a tactic that's often given nice rewards. Someone has been extravagant in their use of matches back the way, as there's a veil of smoke in the valley reducing the quality of my recon. Even though they're not supposed to burn now as the birds will be nesting there's been a rash of gorse fires. Ray was asking me the last day whether there was a big fire up this way as all he could see was smoke from down his area, I was out on my course yesterday and another member mentioned my area was completely on fire (no harm, place needs a good clean out - not of vegetation mind). I call this time of year "Silly Season", as anything that's dry ends up lit. I've taken to carrying a home made beater in the car now.
Seeing not a glint of an eye from my lookout point I headed down to the farm entrance to park up. From there on in I'm on foot, this is where the excess layers start to take effect as it's all uphill! Sweating bullets I reached the top of the hill from where I can see a fair bit of my farm and almost 360° of the surrounding land. About forty minutes pass, during which I use the rabbit distress twice, as soon as I arrive and again about fifteen minutes later.
Way downhill near the sea shore I heard a bird call out, like it's been disturbed or frightened by something. Directly after that I hear three clear fox barks! Shining towards all the commotion I can't see anything, I try the rabbit call and again, no eyes. Well feck this I think I'll give the vixen call a whirl, and like magic two sets of bright amber eyes look my way! Crikey, we're in business, the only thing is I've a bit of a hike to get from where I am to where they are.
Did I mention how absolutely still the conditions are down near the sea? And me rambling downhill through muck, brambles, rushes, tussocks of old grass and all kinds of assorted obstacles and natural tripwires. Sod this, place needs a good dose of Agent Orange! Finally I am nearing where I want to be, slightly concerned that my pair of Charlies will have moved some distance from when I set out. To my great surprise I catch an eye of one not more than one hundred yards across the small gully.
My only option now is to head uphill to a small bank where I can lay down with the Remington. I see both pair of eyes, one immediately turns away from me and I loose sight of it behind a large rock. The other has moved off and is sitting the wrong side of a small hillock and I can only see the top of it's head! As we know I'm not one who favours head shots. These foxes really aren't responding to the rabbit distress call, again my sultry vixen works her magic and the big dark dog fox stands up from the withered bracken and trots up to the top of the hillock, 140 yards, buh-bye-BANG!
A quick reload and the Gods decide to let my wonky ejector work for a change as I catch sight of the other fox high tailing it out of Dodge. It's heading directly away from me in a large patch of flattened bracken. As they are prone to doing it stops a short distance before a wall which would have put a hex on my efforts for a look back at all the action. A snap shot at 165 yards results in a very dead vixen. A nice pair for all of an hours work.
Thursday, March 18th.
I'm kicking myself right now. I got caught up doing things in the city and when I got home the meeting I was supposed to be at (which I actually really wanted to go to!) this evening had completely slipped my mind. Oh well, I got to go shooting instead! My mate John came over and we headed out about as local as we can get.
We walked out an old track onto the hill and pretty much hung around in a gale of wind to see nothing for forty minutes or so. Decided then to head back towards the car, not sure were we heading home or moving to greener fields to be honest. We crested a hill that afforded us a view of a number of fields, most are occupied by rushes with the odd sheep or horse to keep the rushes company.
From a rock I spied a foxes eye in the distance, in my own field as it happens. An couple of odd incidences had happened there in the recent past. I've a larsen trap there and the two hooded crows had been "interfered" with. One had his leg amputated below the knee and had to be killed, the other had died as an entire leg had been ripped out of its body! Strange goings on indeed.
Anyway, back to our fox. We decided to take the high road, so to speak, and circle around the fox by walking along the front of the hill, maybe a third of the way up. By doing this we could always see down into the fields, rather than going by the track and having to look up and probably not see a fox hidden in rushes.
This took a bit of time and I wasn't sure if the fox would stay where we saw it. We got nearer and a squeal from the caller returned a pair of eyes from the rushes. I don't know why, but it seemed like the time I should be doing something about this fox. I found the best spot in my immediate area, which wasn't good at all.
Settling best as I could I discovered I hadn't the best view through the scope either, there was a fair bit of moisture in the air. Rangefinder told me 156 yards, though looking after the shot I'm convinced now I ranged something completely different. I picked out the fox, gave a shout and squeezed the trigger.
And we have a runner. Up it heads towards the hill, across a wet flat area, up a small rise and then we both lose sight of the fox as a tree in another field obstructed our view. For a few minutes we stayed put, keeping an eye on the perimeter fence of my field and the adjoining areas for a glimpse of amber. Nothing showed so we continued to walk across the front of the hill and towards my field. I was not a happy camper, but John had said I definitely hit the fox as he heard the thump clearly.
I headed down the field to the green area I had shot at the fox, looking for a blood trail. What I found was completely unexpected. A little fox, cleanly shot in two! John took a look, "Well, that's the smallest fox you'll ever shoot!".
He went on to find a good bit of blood on some rushes on the little rise where we last saw the fox, I found another blood stained rush above that. Then, I saw a tail sticking out of the middle of a small bunch of rushes, there was out vixen, I guess she had run on about 70 yards from when she got him. Tough little animals, I hate gut shooting them.
Tuesday April 6th.
On my rounds of part of Dads farm I've been noticing plenty of fresh fox scat. One even has a bit of rope or part of a wool sock in it. A hogget died, we think of a tick borne disease, her carcass was completely gutted and cleaned out with a few major bones well chewed. With me half way through lambing and Dad's flock just starting to drop it was time to sort this situation out.
I contacted my mate John and we agreed to head out just as it got dark. Talk about timing, I'd no sooner put the last fork of dinner in my gob when he was knocking at the door. We set off back towards the area the hogget had been eaten in. Even though she was well stripped out I thought it a good idea to stay in that field and see what turns up. It's a lovely night out, mild compared to the weather of late, starry, plenty dark and there's a nice little breeze blowing.
John started to ramble about with the shotgun, he disappeared over the top of the ridge in the field while I stayed in the bottom third of it. After a while I spied two fast moving sets of eyes running up a hillock two fields away. The eyes don't belong to sheep.
The problem is, I'm far far away from those eyes and way downhill to boot. I don't think John can see them from where he is, and they're heading in his general direction. Feck this craic, I have to run uphill to see if I can make any decent vantage point nearer the unfolding action. When I get about three quarter way up the field I see John again, no sign of the foxes now and from the way he's walking about he hasn't seen them either. Now I have to figure out did they cross below him towards the hogget carcass, or, have they gone above him and maybe winded him.
I can see most of what's below me and I don't see any eyes, so I make my decision and head up over the ridge. John is going in the complete wrong direction and I'm in two minds, have they back tracked and he's following them, or has he just not seen them and is continuing to follow his own route!
I get up the top of the ridge and straight off I see two sets of fox eyes looking back at me. One vanishes while the other mooches about in some rocks. Unfortunately for me the closest place I can shoot from is covered in a thorny creeping gorse! After getting stuck about twenty times I've the first fox in my scope. It halts beside a rock to look at me, *BANG*
Problems reloading ensue. Dodgy ejector which causes me trouble now and then, what a time for it to strike. While I'm clearing the rifle, I spy a pair of eyes moving along a fence line to my right, basically something is getting the hell out of Dodge. By the time I've the rifle back in working order the other pair of eyes is well gone. More second guessing and doubt, was that the first fox, did I just wing it, shot looked good, second fox clearing off maybe. With the confusion I've lost track of where the fox was when I fired.
Anyway, I'm up and moving towards my right. I shine about and call a couple of times but there's not an eye to be seen on hill or bog. A couple of minutes pass and heading for the hogget carcass seems a good idea. Off I go and no sooner have I crested the ridge when I'm met by a lovely pair of eyes looking back at me from the middle of the field (I use the term loosely I hasten to add). The turbo kicks in and my fox is leaving at a rate of knots out towards the hill. I've this ones card marked and I've got it in the scope already. My reliable terrier yap! halts the fox in it's tracks long enough for a Vmax to take away it's cares.
I collect the fox, a vixen and walk back up the ridge. After some searching around I find the dog fox and pick him up too. By this time John has come from the far side of Dad's land. "What's wrong, what's all the flicking of the lamp about?", "Nothing's wrong, 'cept these two are kinda heavy to haul".
He'd not heard either shot and was quite unimpressed having missed all the action. He's been out five or six nights in a row near my own farm and not seen so much as an eye out there. I tell him the tale as to what happened and we head off home around 11.30, as I still have lambs to feed and check up on. John convinces me I should take the opportunity to have a shine around my own farm once I'm heading the way, and with that thought he's away off home to his bed!
After feeding my pet lamb and sorting out a set of twins I head up my own farm with lamp and rifle. I'm roughly half way through lambing my own flock, and will be happy when they've all dropped. As is my usual run I cross over into the neighbours to make use of their height advantage.
This is frustrating, I see a pair of suspect eyes about two hundred fifty yards from me out on the hill. No sooner have I spotted them than they're gone. I clip on the lamp and get down to use the scope and I see a fox vanish over the crest of a hill. I don't need another walk tonight, but since I've seen it now...
After hopping the fenced wall I'm out and over the hillock I saw the fox on. A bit of a walk later I see it's eyes in a pile of rocks not that far from me. Down onto another creeping gorse bush and I can see eyes and foxy looking ears. I hate taking head shots so I bide my time. After what was probably only twenty or thirty seconds, but felt like ten minutes, I seize the opportunity and take a neck shot as the fox raises itself up a bit. Nighty night and the third fox of the night, and second vixen, is in the bag.
Hot from the oven, two reasons I do what I do.
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i enjoyed that post john, two quick questions.
why are you not fond of head shots?
and the fox with its entrials exposed, was that a cub that was split in two inside it?
cheers
Not sure Dicky, I can't remember now. The cub I found was outside of the fox, on the grass where she was when she got hit, split perfectly in two the little fella was.
I don't like head shots because it's a smaller target area than the heart lungs. I also don't like them because all the senses are located there, so if you fox gets a smell, sight, sound of something, that head swivels fast. Heart and lungs have a terrible hard time swiveling
Everyone to their own, I have taken them, but I only do so as a very las resort. 0 -
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