Hot Days And Hotter Nights (A Tale From The Field)

[firepower 68]

Hot days and hotter nights. Summer, the season that most look forward to, the cubs are out and are interested in everything, playing in the freshly cut fields with abandon. As a foxing man I know that this is the time to get on top and keep the numbers at an acceptable level. Problem animals will be dealt with as and when they occur. That is and indeed always has been the arrangement with the farmers that I shoot for. On the commercial side of my shooting I find that the clients idea of an acceptable number of foxes is none. Tonight was a commercial outing to deal yet again with the local school. I arrive at the school in good time, Reynard shows up at anytime from a quarter to ten in the evening. As I arrive the school gates are still open and my usual route around the security barrier is blocked with cars. I send a text message to the site manager asking what is happening and get the reply that it is the seniors leaving party. He adds that they should be gone shortly so I settle down just outside the school and wait. I decide against entering until the last car leaves and the gate is locked. My Land Rover is sign written and my arrangement with the school requires me to be as discreet as possible as some people nowadays see the fox almost as a free range pet. The headmaster and site manager are not subscribers to this new age view hence my circumspect presence during the hours of darkness. The final car to leave is the headmaster and his departure signals the nights work. I enter closing the sizeable gates behind me and head to the trail camera that I placed there the day before. Though I know when the enemy starts his patrols it never hurts to continue monitoring as the game progresses. I sit in the car and review the video footage from the previous twenty four hours. The camera has a timer function and as I scroll through the videos of cars coming and going throughout the day I resolve to sit and read how to use this particular feature. Finally the video thumbnail shows a black and grey image. I press play and watch one of the many cats in the area walk by. The walk is more of a swagger as it must know that it is safe from my attentions. The next video shows my foe tucking into the bait. I look at the time stamp and now have a morning timeframe in which to lay ambush. The bait set previously has gone so I place a mixture of sardines and dried pasta twirls in their respective places. I check the line of sight to the two areas and move the Land Rover to a position that affords a shot from either window. I set up two rifles one facing in each direction. Both hold chambered rounds with the safety catches applied. I recline the seat and settle down to wait. Summer, I decide is not my favourite season. The weather today has been oppressive, although I enjoy the summer heat most days today has been humid with little or no breeze to bring succour. The night is little different save for the swollen moon peeping from behind the clouds instead of the hazy sun that ruled the day. To my right a few feet away the street lamp glares harshly into the cab and I realise that I am visible to the bait station on my left. I improvise and use a piece of thin perforated foam from a quad bike seat that is in the foot well. With this shut in the door and hanging down I am invisible once more. The vehicle feels more closed in as the temperature starts to rise. It begins to rain and my hopes of a cooling shower die within moments as it stops as soon as it started. The sweat starts to pool on my lower back and I can feel the slick sheen on my brow begin to trickle down, irritating as it goes. I wipe my face with the sleeve of my shirt as I stare into the gloom on the edge of the lights. A ginger shape slinks into the periphery on my right hand side. Experience tells me not to move, keep looking ahead and wait for it to come into view. It is so close to the vehicle that it must be able to smell me. It has gone, too close to the side to see now, seconds pass and the cat in the video struts from under the front bumper and saunters towards the bait. My trigger finger twitches slightly along the side of the rifle. The cat sniffs the air nonchalantly and walks within feet of the pile. It wanders off into the night, obviously a well fed beast and not in need of a free meal. I shift in the seat which is starting to feel damp from my sweat. I check the time and discover that I have now been sat there for nearly three hours. The appointed time for Reynards morning stroll has come and gone. I presume that the party earlier has thrown the timing off and decide that rather than sit in a pool of perspiration any longer it is time to call it a night. I only need to be lucky once whereas Charlie needs to be lucky for the rest of his days.

[air gun ant 1,666]

Nice write up

[Ratsmasher 36]

Good to read

Could of made something up for a nice finish