Ferreting In The Dales 2
The last few months had seen both of my old hob ferrets die and this was down to a combination of old age and from being worn out by the new females I’d got from my mate Phil. I genuinely don’t think they had enough life in them to survive the rough housing they received and within a matter of weeks, both of the old boys passed away during the night. They were both buried in the garden close to their court and where they’d spent many a happy time eating to their hearts content and playing around with each other. This of course left me with a bit of a problem as I’d got two jills left and no hobs, so the search was on for some replacements.
With two weeks off work and the season well under way, I’d phoned a couple of good mates up North and we’d arranged for me to bring my lurcher bitch up for the weekend for a spot of hunting and they also mentioned that they might have a couple of spare hobs for me, which was a real bonus! These lads are the ones I got my bitch from a few years back so I would be hunting with relatives of hers or if not, very similarly bred dogs.
The Friday morning saw me hurtling up the motorway on the way back home to the North, with a lurcher in the boot and an empty ferret box on the back seat. The traffic was appalling due to a crash on the opposite side of the motorway to us; although this didn’t stop the people on our side slowing down to have a good look at the carnage on the other side. This had the effect of slowing our progress up considerably but we made good use of the quiet periods and we arrived about 3 o’clock in the afternoon. 7pm found me around Matt’s house with a dog and lamp in tow, waiting for Carl to arrive in the Land Rover 90. We’d planned a little jaunt out on the lamp on some new land these boys had just got and with my previous lamping forays in the preceding two weeks; my dog was reasonably fit and raring to go.
A short drive up over the hill found us at our first field and Matt had his bitch Dee with him, who was actually the mother of my bitch and I was as keen to see her on the lamp as I was my own dog. A quick hop over a metal gate saw us on the short crop and Matt’s red filtered lamp quickly picked up some rabbits on the far side of the field to us. As we made our way around to position ourselves between the hedge and the rabbits, I kept my lamp off as I don’t use a filter and the bright white glare of mine tends to be slightly less subtle than the red filtered one. Matt kindly gave me the first run which although close, ended with the rabbit getting away through the hedge. Dee was up next and the next rabbit was highlighted with the red lamp, but as soon as the rabbit was up and on its way, the filter was taken off and the white light flooded the field, with the result that Dee snapped up her coney like the professional she is. A retrieve and a stretch of the neck by Matt and it was my bitches turn again. Matt again found a sitter with his lamp and pointed me in the right direction. Once I was around 25-30 yards away, I flicked my lamp on and the bitch followed the beam to where the rabbit sat. With the bitch a matter of feet away, the rabbit got up and made for the hedge. The pressure from my bitch panicked the bunny and it didn’t have time to find a safe way through the hedge, instead running up and down in an attempt to find an obvious safe haven. This never happened and after some very sharp turns, the rabbit finally ended up in my bitch’s jaws. The usual happened and the bitch crunched the coney with the resulting squeaks as I walked the couple of yards to pick the quarry up. There was no tug of war like you get with a terrier and she gave up her prize with good grace, which was squeezed and added to the tally. The difference between the two bitches was marked and my younger bitch really did lack the professional, no nonsense approach of her mother. She had no shortage of lung power and she needed every bit of it to pick these bunnies up. Carl described as “torturous” as she kept on the rabbits tail turn after turn. I’d noticed the last time I’d been to the dales with these lads that my bitch just hadn’t developed the strike of a more mature dog, and that was apparent here, but hopefully that will come with time.
With no more rabbits coming off that field, we climbed back into the 90 and we were off to another field on the same farm. As this farm was new, the boys didn’t know which way the rabbits were going to run and this became apparent when I was given my next run. I walked up parallel after Matt had identified the next victim and placed myself on the hedge line in an attempt to cut the rabbit off from its safety zone. With the lamp on and the dog running, the rabbit got up and ran in exactly the opposite direction to me! Just goes to show, knowledge comes with experience and I’m sure Matt and Carl will use that to their advantage the next time they lamp this farm.
Another field saw Dee make another excellent catch and we had a good few runs with my bitch taking another two to take the haul to five. We did have more runs after that and came close on a number of occasions but five was to be our total for the evening. The difference between my methods of hunting and Matt and Carls was highlighted when my bitch had ran and missed a rabbit. With the rabbit making good its escape I switched the lamp off, expecting the bitch to return, which she’d been doing better and better all evening. The trouble arose because, as I’d been lighting up the course, I’d also highlighted a flooded part of the field. As soon as the rabbit was lost and the lamp went off, the bitch had raced over to the standing water where she’s scented more quarry! The noise of the ducks getting up was mingled with Matt’s laughter and I had to join in with him as the bitch was only doing what I’d taught her to do on home soil! She didn’t know any better and to her these ducks were legitimate quarry! Bless her! One course did stand out in my mind from that night and this was one that Dee had where the rabbit raced away down a very steep hillside. Excellent sport!
As we got back to the 90, Carl gutted the rabbits behind the hedge and we all agreed on a 9am start for the dales in the morning. My dog had got her tongue back in by this time, and I hoped she’d have a good sleep as she was going to have a busy day in the morning. One thing that was highlighted to me was that I need to show the bitch some more fences to jump. She has no bother getting in and out of the Land Rover but she did struggle with the wire topped fences we encountered that evening.
The following morning, after a couple of bacon sandwiches and a slurp of strong coffee, I was out the front of my house at 9.00am greeting Matt and Carl again. My bitch jumped up in the back of the 90 and settled down next to her brother Diver and Carl’s excellent bitch, Scarlet. I’d hunted with Scarlet before and she really is something to see. She’s a reverse ¾ bred collie/greyhound but you wouldn’t think it to look at her and she’s certainly no slouch when it comes to running either. Most people assume she’s a bedlington/greyhound and I don’t blame them as that’s the first thing I said when I saw her.
A couple of hours later and we were on top of the dales. The Land Rover was parked out of the way and as Carl and I gathered our dogs and headed off in one direction, Matt took Diver and headed the opposite way. Carl had brought a small albino jill and a polecat marked strong hob with him and it wasn’t very long before they were called into action. Scarlet was marking straight off; whilst my bitch seemed content just to look for rabbits sitting out, much as she does when I have her out at home. The lack of ferreting ground I have access to takes its toll on a dog and they only do what has been expected of them in the past. With the older bitch taking charge, my girl was running around on the scent so I just left her to it. A few rabbits bolted and she was after them as they scurried away, whilst Scarlet maintained her vigil at the business end of things. The number of rabbits soon began to grow with bolters and ones we’d had to dig to all counting to the total. Scarlet was picking up bolters before they’d even got a yard from the sett and she was very impressive to watch. As soon as we’d dug one rabbit, she’d move to the next hole and we were on again!
As we moved to higher ground, Carl suggested that I take a ferret and go and try a few setts away from Scarlet. We didn’t use any nets so it really was just a question of picking up the little jill and walking about 30-40 yards to the next kicked out place. As it happened, this was where my bitch switched on a bit more and instead of running the tops or sitting off the bury, she paid far more attention. The absence of the older bitch focused her far more and it was good to see her, head to the side, leg up, anticipating the bolt. We did have some good runs and a couple where both dogs were involved, and on one occasion although my bitch caught, she deferred to the older dog and let her take the rabbit from her mouth! Carl apologised with a big grin on his face, but there was absolutely nothing to apologise for! I told him I’d rather this happened than a tug of war or worse! I remember what happened when my bitch tried to take a goose of my wheaten cross!
As the day drew to a close, Matt came down the hill from where he’d been working and he had a decent haul of bunnies too. The last few digs were fairly easy with the very last one being just a scoop under the surface. I’d stuck both of the ferrets in quite a big place as a final try and although I bolted five, none were caught, which was a shame as one was a bright ginger rabbit and I’d have loved to have bagged that one.
All in all we took 30 rabbits of the tops for a few hours work and it could have been much more, but the sport was excellent and dogs had done a grand job, so we took our lot and headed for home. As Carl packed up the 90, Matt and I walked down off the hill to see if we could put some rabbits up out of the tussocks. A couple of good chases later we were down by the gate which opened out on to the road and our way home.
I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Matt and Carl for a superb weekends sport and great hospitality. It’s always great to get up and see these lads and to see the dogs all get a run together. I’d also like to especially thank Carl as he gave me two cracking polecat hobs who have settled in great with my two little jills! Nice one mate, they seem to like me much better than they liked Matt!
All the best