My next door neighbour Steve had known for quite some time about my interest in shooting and although he was alright about it, never really expressed an interest himself.
Through my work I acquired some excellent shooting on a very big acreage with mixed crops with quarry options of rabbit, hare, pigeon & skemmy pigeon (town) plus if I asked, the odd game bird - no not the farmer's wife! Steve had heard me returning back home on several occasions and started asking me how I done, what I shot etc. So planning to go the following weekend I asked Steve along and to my surprise he agreed.
I need to make you aware of Steve's profile, he is the King Edward of couch potatoes - so in order for him to come shooting he had to borrow all manner of apparel from friends & relatives. His collection of miscellaneous items made him look like a Rumanian charity shop reject - we were going to have to avoid the style police.
The day before we planned to shoot Lesley the farmer's wife rang, I thought there was going to be a problem however it turned out that she and several other people had seen something unusual - a big cat. Now I have heard these sorts of stories many times and 99.99% are rubbish. I questioned Lesley about this "thing" which she had already decided was a Puma. Even my sarcastic comments about there not being many ginger pumas answering to Mr Tibbles in our part of the world would not dissuade her.
I didn't mention this to Steve (there is only so much an Eastern Block Asylum Seeker look-a-like can take) until we were on our way midnight the next day. The conversation about Middlesbrough football team was swiftly curtailed when I said Lesley had phoned me the previous day and as I related her words to him I could see his very concerned expression picked out by the car's instrument lights.
So when we arrived about twenty minutes later Steve's usual dialogue of football, women & films had given way to silence, no bad thing I thought. I asked him if he was OK and in a hushed voice he said he was. I assembled the two guns I had brought: the superb Theoben Rapid 7 and A Stainless Steel Ruger rim fire both 0.22 and both Section 1.
I had briefed Steve earlier in the day about safety but I ran through it again adding I didn't want any of my tackle shot off! Steve gave a half-hearted nervous snigger and we set off for a stubble field where I had shot stacks of Coney in the past. There was a half moon out which was covered by thin wisps of cloud just enough silver light to pick out landscape details. There is something about being in a vast expanse of land in the stillness of the night with the sounds and smells so different to the town - I think it's wonderful - Steve however had other things on his mind because he was keeping very close. I remember thinking I was glad he was married otherwise I would have been worried!
We scoured the field's perimeter but saw virtually no rabbits which was very unusual. We walked back to the farm house and across the road to a field planted with a potatoes crop. I walked in a tractor's tracks with Steve a cigarette paper's width close behind. The wind had just sprung up and it gently swayed the 18" tall crop. I arced the gun mounted red light beam across the field to the right of where we were stood, nothing, no wait! what was that? The initial sweep revealed nothing however on the return sweep I though I saw two eyes picked out by the light. "Did you see that"? I asked Steve, he just nodded manically as if to over emphasize the point. I swung the light back and at about 100yds out, two eyes returned a bright reflection.
A predators eyes are at the front of the head whereas a prey species are more on the sides for obvious reasons; this was definitely a predator! Curious I thought since the "eyes" were not at ground level, they were hedge top height - Lesley's puma story was beginning to haunt me!. The thoughts were still going through my head when the "eyes" dropped into the field travelling towards the middle and the tracks where we were stood, every few paces it looked across the top of the crops to us the light giving away it's brisk progress. I think at this point Steve would have run for his life if male pride and terror hadn’t rooted him to the spot. I turned to reassure him but my words (in hindsight) probably made matters worse. "I'm not sure what this is but I think I'm going to have to shoot it" I whispered.
I knew all of the domestic animals the farmer kept were locked up, I had already checked the out buildings and verified that - it also stops the dogs barking. The eyes were now advancing towards us in a slight up and down motion - whatever it was it was determined. I swear I could hear Steve's heart but I concentrated as I raised the Ruger's telescopic sight to my eye. I aimed and held from two seconds before releasing the bullet. The eyes dropped "I've got it" I said, Steve exhaled down the back of my neck. "we had better check it out, it may not be dead" the last part of my sentence changed Steve's enthusiastic steps to a more cautious amble as quickly as I had said it.
As we approached the creature I could see it was fairly large it was also fairly dead. It was a very big dog fox - the biggest I have ever seen, the bullet had penetrated directly between the eyes with geometric precision. Steve was mighty impressed and much more chirpy now. We stayed another hour or so and shot maybe a dozen rabbits, Steve missing everything he aimed at.
The drive home was interesting in that he managed to convince himself that he was ready to take a shot if I had missed and he wasn't the least bit frightened etc etc...
I told the farmer what had happened the next day, he was well chuffed, the fox had been taking geese like there was no tomorrow. Steve did shoot with me again and did eventually bag his first rabbit - but that's another story.
Now before you reach for your mouse to hit the reply button, please note:
1/ I had shot foxes here before but disclosing that would have blown the story - which is absolutely true.
2/ I was 99% sure the said beast was a fox, yellow eyes at the front of head, height of eyes, rapid gait etc and 100% sure it wasn't a child.
OK now you can reply if you feel like it.
Through my work I acquired some excellent shooting on a very big acreage with mixed crops with quarry options of rabbit, hare, pigeon & skemmy pigeon (town) plus if I asked, the odd game bird - no not the farmer's wife! Steve had heard me returning back home on several occasions and started asking me how I done, what I shot etc. So planning to go the following weekend I asked Steve along and to my surprise he agreed.
I need to make you aware of Steve's profile, he is the King Edward of couch potatoes - so in order for him to come shooting he had to borrow all manner of apparel from friends & relatives. His collection of miscellaneous items made him look like a Rumanian charity shop reject - we were going to have to avoid the style police.
The day before we planned to shoot Lesley the farmer's wife rang, I thought there was going to be a problem however it turned out that she and several other people had seen something unusual - a big cat. Now I have heard these sorts of stories many times and 99.99% are rubbish. I questioned Lesley about this "thing" which she had already decided was a Puma. Even my sarcastic comments about there not being many ginger pumas answering to Mr Tibbles in our part of the world would not dissuade her.
I didn't mention this to Steve (there is only so much an Eastern Block Asylum Seeker look-a-like can take) until we were on our way midnight the next day. The conversation about Middlesbrough football team was swiftly curtailed when I said Lesley had phoned me the previous day and as I related her words to him I could see his very concerned expression picked out by the car's instrument lights.
So when we arrived about twenty minutes later Steve's usual dialogue of football, women & films had given way to silence, no bad thing I thought. I asked him if he was OK and in a hushed voice he said he was. I assembled the two guns I had brought: the superb Theoben Rapid 7 and A Stainless Steel Ruger rim fire both 0.22 and both Section 1.
I had briefed Steve earlier in the day about safety but I ran through it again adding I didn't want any of my tackle shot off! Steve gave a half-hearted nervous snigger and we set off for a stubble field where I had shot stacks of Coney in the past. There was a half moon out which was covered by thin wisps of cloud just enough silver light to pick out landscape details. There is something about being in a vast expanse of land in the stillness of the night with the sounds and smells so different to the town - I think it's wonderful - Steve however had other things on his mind because he was keeping very close. I remember thinking I was glad he was married otherwise I would have been worried!
We scoured the field's perimeter but saw virtually no rabbits which was very unusual. We walked back to the farm house and across the road to a field planted with a potatoes crop. I walked in a tractor's tracks with Steve a cigarette paper's width close behind. The wind had just sprung up and it gently swayed the 18" tall crop. I arced the gun mounted red light beam across the field to the right of where we were stood, nothing, no wait! what was that? The initial sweep revealed nothing however on the return sweep I though I saw two eyes picked out by the light. "Did you see that"? I asked Steve, he just nodded manically as if to over emphasize the point. I swung the light back and at about 100yds out, two eyes returned a bright reflection.
A predators eyes are at the front of the head whereas a prey species are more on the sides for obvious reasons; this was definitely a predator! Curious I thought since the "eyes" were not at ground level, they were hedge top height - Lesley's puma story was beginning to haunt me!. The thoughts were still going through my head when the "eyes" dropped into the field travelling towards the middle and the tracks where we were stood, every few paces it looked across the top of the crops to us the light giving away it's brisk progress. I think at this point Steve would have run for his life if male pride and terror hadn’t rooted him to the spot. I turned to reassure him but my words (in hindsight) probably made matters worse. "I'm not sure what this is but I think I'm going to have to shoot it" I whispered.
I knew all of the domestic animals the farmer kept were locked up, I had already checked the out buildings and verified that - it also stops the dogs barking. The eyes were now advancing towards us in a slight up and down motion - whatever it was it was determined. I swear I could hear Steve's heart but I concentrated as I raised the Ruger's telescopic sight to my eye. I aimed and held from two seconds before releasing the bullet. The eyes dropped "I've got it" I said, Steve exhaled down the back of my neck. "we had better check it out, it may not be dead" the last part of my sentence changed Steve's enthusiastic steps to a more cautious amble as quickly as I had said it.
As we approached the creature I could see it was fairly large it was also fairly dead. It was a very big dog fox - the biggest I have ever seen, the bullet had penetrated directly between the eyes with geometric precision. Steve was mighty impressed and much more chirpy now. We stayed another hour or so and shot maybe a dozen rabbits, Steve missing everything he aimed at.
The drive home was interesting in that he managed to convince himself that he was ready to take a shot if I had missed and he wasn't the least bit frightened etc etc...
I told the farmer what had happened the next day, he was well chuffed, the fox had been taking geese like there was no tomorrow. Steve did shoot with me again and did eventually bag his first rabbit - but that's another story.
Now before you reach for your mouse to hit the reply button, please note:
1/ I had shot foxes here before but disclosing that would have blown the story - which is absolutely true.
2/ I was 99% sure the said beast was a fox, yellow eyes at the front of head, height of eyes, rapid gait etc and 100% sure it wasn't a child.
OK now you can reply if you feel like it.
