Wildfowling Past & Present - An Anthology

Description

Wildfowling is the most romantic, exciting and challenging of all the field sports. All wildfowlers have a little poetry in their souls. The majority of fowlers are thoroughgoing individualists. A typical wildfowler is a true hunter, bred and born - a lone wolf pitting his wits and knowledge against the wiles of some of the wariest and fastest birds on earth. Taking all this into account it is no surprise that wildfowling has fascinated a great many well known writers as well as inspiring many lesser known and even amateur writers to write with brilliance and passion about their sport. In this book I have attempted to select a number of gems and rarities of fowling literature from famous writers as well as including notes, articles and snippets from less well known, but nevertheless, enthusiastic scribes. This anthology will, I hope, help preserve some of the more obscure wildfowling tales for gunners of the future.
Several of the post war wildfowling stories include those of writers who contributed to now defunct sporting periodicals of that era. Their stories I consider masterpieces of the genre and have been included for the benefit of future generations. In some cases it has been impossible to communicate with them or their relatives, who may contact the publishers if they so wish.

Sujets

• Sport
• Autres sports
• Tir
• Hunting
• Recreation
• Sports

Informations

• Publié par: Read Books Ltd.
• Date de parution: 31 mai 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781473388260
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 3 Mo

Extrait

WILDFOWLING PAST PRESENT
AN ANTHOLOGY
EDITED BY TONY READ
Read Country Books 2007 This book is copyright and may not be reproduced or copied in any way without the express permission of the publisher in writing
British Library Cataloguing-in-publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Contents
Shooting Curlews
Shore Shooting
Geese
Wildfowler s Company
Wild Ducks for Sport
Duck
Shooting Geese From Pits and Two Shots at Bernacle Geese
Morning Flight
Some Old Methods of Wildfowling
A Punt Gun Shot at Wild Swans
Chance of a Lifetime
In Quest of the Pink-Footed Goose
Fourteen Rules for Punt-Gunners
An Early Wigeon Flight
Stanchion Gun Barrels and Their Makers
Some Forgotten Edible Birds
Grey Goose Shooting Afloat
Geese in the Great Frost of 47
The Magic of Goose Shooting
Wildfowl Shooting From Tubs
A Solway Fowler
Falkland Island Geese
It Could Happen to You
First Morning Flight
First Right and Left
A Wildfowler s Luck
Cripple Stopping
Glorious Mud
The Mud Trap
Duck Shooting From the Avon Gazes
Some Goose Talk
Wild Fowl Shooting at Holy Island
A Night of Wild Fowling in the North Kent Marshes
Thoughts on Flighting
Wildfowling Afloat
The Sporting Coot
A Snipe Century
This Wildfowling Fever
Wildfowling is the most romantic, exciting and challenging of all the field sports. All wildfowlers have a little poetry in their souls. The majority of fowlers are thoroughgoing individualists. Atypical wildfowler is a true hunter, bred and born-a lone wolf pitting his wits and knowledge against the wiles of some of the wariest and fastest birds on earth. Taking all this into account it is no surprise that wildfowling has fascinated a great many well known writers as well as inspiring many lesser known and even amateur writers to write with brilliance and passion about their sport. In this book I have attempted to select a number of gems and rarities of fowling literature from famous writers as well as including notes, articles and snippets from less well known, but nevertheless, enthusiastic scribes. This anthology will, I hope, help preserve some of the more obscure wildfowling tales for gunners of the future.
Several of the post war wildfowling stories include those of writers who contributed to now defunct sporting periodicals of that era. Their stories I consider masterpieces of the genre and have been included for the benefit of future generations. In some cases it has been impossible to communicate with them or their relatives, who may contact the publishers if they so wish.

THE OUTLOOK .
SHOOTING CURLEWS
By R.H. Ferry. (1949)
There is an old saying, When a man has shot six herons, six wild geese and six curlews he may call himself a sportsman.
Herons and geese are certainly hard to get in range, but any stalkers skill is tested to the full by the caution of curlews, and the feeling of exultation is all the greater when one has been able to outwit such excessively wary creatures by superior strategy. Those who give up stalking curlews as a bad job and a waste of time do so chiefly because they go after them casually, in places where they are quite inaccessible of approach, unless by extreme caution and with more than a slice of good luck.
When small flocks of these curved-beaked and stilt-legged birds have been driven from their short feeding grounds on to adjacent moors and dunes by high tides, they have a habit of standing for long intervals to rest and digest their last meal. At such times the experienced leave them strictly alone, unless they have a great deal of time to spare. Every individual of these resting flocks is on the alert to observe the slightest sign of danger, and where rough ground might lend itself to an unobserved stalk, or, from the bird s point of view, favour a treacherous approach, all the greater caution is taken by them.
Where clumps of broom, rocks, or undulations obstruct a direct view, sentinel birds are posted on the higher mounds, and from these places of advantage they can easily see the most distant approach of danger. If their suspicions are in any way aroused they utter the shrill querulous whistle which is such a well-known characteristic of the species. Instantly the flocked birds raise their heads and look cautiously around, responding with answering cries of attention. If there is a second and yet louder warning cry the whole herd at once flies off with hysterical cries over the crest of the nearest hill or fold in the dunes. Occasionally an old and bold bird may come back over the gun as if to have a closer look at the enemy, when a shot is possible, but this only happens on a lucky day.
The feeding instinct of curlews is really remarkable, and in shore feeding birds, only equalled by herons. With correct timing, almost to the minute, they know when the shore has been laid bare sufficiently to allow of feeding, and arriving over the favourite site they wheel round and dip rather like plovers before landing. Some longshoremen take up a position in hiding and get in a few shots as the birds come over, but in my experience it is far better to refrain from firing till the curlews are well on the feed. This requires a good deal of patience, for before they feed the birds are just as cautious as ever-the horizon all round is well scanned and a good look round taken to see that the coast is clear, then they go to it in earnest with a fussy and intent precision. It is not always possible from a distance to see the movements of the flock clearly or to tell if the birds really have started the meal, and one may best gauge this by sound. On landing the flock breaks up into little groups and into ones and twos, keeping up a frequent interchange of communicating screams, which the stalker must do his best to interpret if he is to get within range.
With curlews there are always, under any circumstances, occasional wary cries from the ever nervy old birds, and here and there birds will start up in alarm, but with a little experience one is soon able to pick out all clear notes and twitterings of content and satisfaction. At he right psychological moment (a good deal depending on its exactness) it is possible to stalk up to a position well in among the fully occupied birds as they stand stretched out and scattered along the feeding grounds. Very strangely at this time the birds neglect to post outlooks.
While I prefer to get the full satisfaction of a successful hunt operating lone handed, there is no doubt that two guns working the birds between them on prearranged signals, and with an unselfish technique, have a better chance of a big bag.
Like most birds that feed by feel rather than by sight curlews are active whenever the tide serves, by night or day. It is pleasant for a longshore sportsman and lover of wild birds to hear the weird wails of curlews on a rough night, with the murmur of waves or the roar of estuary water spilling over a sand bar, in the background.
When there is a moon there are few more fascinating sports than waiting for curlews under a tamarisk, bent over into natural hide by the prevailing gales. On the ebbing of the tide the mud flats gleam in the moonlight like a witch s mirror, and here and there the light catches one of the hundreds of runnels emptying themselves out into the estuary with chattering undertones. It is a ghostly scene, well befitting night feeding curlews. There seems always a moment or two of expectancy and lull just before all kinds of birds start pitching down. Many of the smaller birds-knots, plovers, dotterels, turnstones and mud larks -one cannot see, only the swish of wings on a still night, shrill pipings, cheeps and plaintive cries, make one aware of the presence of bird life. And then suddenly, from near at hand, a leading curlew gives an eerie whistle, and others communicate as they keep in touch in the uncertain moonlight.
It is advisable to let the leaders pass by and satisfy themselves that all is well. Before shooting one must turn towards the moon and wait until the silhouette of a curlew s beak and head shows etched against the round white target behind. Without a trained dog it becomes necessary to leave the hide to pick up the fallen birds, but in the moonlight, as with many other creatures, curlews loose a good deal of their natural caution, and liberties can be taken which could never be taken by daylight. Even so it is much better to remain at one stand than to move about in the hope of finding a better one. Everything comes to him who waits is a good slogan for curlew shooters on moonlight nights.
So many sportsmen who look upon teal, widgeon, and other birds of a feather as a gamey addition to the larder give away the curlews they shoot to their friends or enemies. In days gone by, however, as the old English rhyme shows, these birds were considered good to eat, even a delicacy:
A curlew, be she white, be she black, She carries twelve pence on her back.
Today this would be about five shillings.
The difference in colour refers to the darker hue of the old longer billed birds to that of the younger and lighter coloured individuals. A curlew is best hung by the beak till it will no longer support the weight of the bird. It must then be skinned, and backbone taken out, and an onion put inside the carcass the night before cooking. With the older birds I adopt the Highland custom of burying for a day or two-this takes any strong flavour out of the flesh.
But whether one shoots for the pot or for pleasure, there is always a subtle sensation of pleasure, mixed with vexation, as one plods heavy footed and listens to the birds that have outwitted the most careful efforts to stalk them. As soon as the back is turned the bubbling cry, half-wail, half-gurgle, comes over the air as contented curlews, in peace and safety, bore deep into the cool mud and feel the soft sea-slugs wriggling in their man