H&C

25
Sep
2009

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Red stags and rain

A red deer

"During my few days in Scotland I also had the chance of doing some stalking with Ronnie Buchan. Ronnie works as a professional deer stalker in the Highlands on estates such as Glen Affric. This is a much larger Moor that Nairnside, and parts of the moor are at very high altitudes.

Here a species of grouse called a Ptarmigan live - they are pure white with black eyes, and the males have a bright red watteling. Ptarmigan live on the snow line high up in mountain where the snow seldom melts. It is a bird that is hardly ever seen on any menu because to find them you will have to walk miles over hard ground going vertically most of the time.

Nick Havenmart arranged for Ronnie to take me out to see some red deer stags and to stalk one. I was looking forward to this, as stalking on a moor is very different to the woodland stalking I am used to. On the moor you are far more exposed and stand out like a sore thumb against the heather unless to wear the appropriate clothing and even then there are techniques to follow.

On the first morning I ventured out on to the moor by myself. After seeing the lay of the land the day before, I knew where I wanted to be just as the morning broke.
I left the house at four am jumping into the Land Rover and making my way up to the hill. It was a wet misty morning and visibility was not good as I climbed higher on to the moor, but I carried on ever optimistic that the weather would clear. I got to the spot I had ear marked the day before. The morning had not broken and gauging by the weather, the sun up would be later than normal so I set my mobile alarm and settled down for a snooze while dawn broke. When I awoke the sun was just coming up - not that I could see it, as the weather was terrible.

The mist was quite thick and I could just about see the stream at the bottom of the ravine. But this did not stop me, being the all-weather outdoor mad country man that I am, and I ventured out to see how far I could go. The first clue I had that this was going to be a fruitless day was when I used my range finder to get an idea of the distance between me and the bottom of the ravine. Range finders work in layman’s terms by bouncing a beam of light or a laser off of a target and then back to the finder which then displays the distance. I pressed the range button to find out that it gave me a reading of four yards, I the looked at a tree ten yards away and it was also four yards. It seems that range finders do not work well in mist - funny they didn’t say that on the box or in the shop where I bought it. I continued to work my way along the lip of the ravine for about a mile but the weather seemed to be getting worse not better. In the end I made my wet way back to the Land Rover and was back at home making breakfast for everyone by eight o’clock.

That evening and the following morning Ronnie and I went out looking for deer but it rained non stop for three whole days. On the my last evening Ronnie could not come with me so I decided to go it alone again, but this time to the other end of the moor where there was a large area of tree fell. Here the ground was hard going and it was quite a way from the initial places I had been to. I drove on to the moor taking a different track which did not climb like the other did, instead it followed a line of forestry.

Pretty much straight away I started to see deer. A good roe buck crossed my path and ran off into the woods followed by a roe doe a few hundred yards further on. This doe ran up on to the hill then stopped and looked back at me as I passed. This was looking good; it had stopped raining and the sun had come out. There was even a rainbow.

A couple of days earlier I had come to this very place with Ronnie. Now I consider myself to be fairly fit - some people complain when out Hawking with me that I walk too fast - but Ronnie beats me hands down. The guy is part goat and to quote a favourite Top Gear phrase “some say he was born on the hill under some Heather”. Ronnie is one of a special breed of people that I have had the pleasure and honour to meet in my work with the game and the food world. He is passionate and very skilled at what he does, he also has compassion and a high respect for the deer and wildlife around him as well as a very strict code about which animals need to be culled and which will continue the herd with strong blood lines.

As with Julian down at Houghton Hall, Ronnie is very mindful of good deer management. Ronnie’s knowledge of the moors, wind conditions, and the habit of the deer are a vital asset when stalking on the hill. The deer here are wild and very sensitive to noise, smells, and movement. The Moor can be a fantastically beautiful place but it can also be a dangerous one and you need to be very aware of this when out there.

As I Crested the hill I was climbing the evening sun was fully out and sinking slowly towards the horizon I estimated that I had around two hours of shooting time left.
Ronnie had told me to look out for two or three roe bucks that had territories set up here. I continued along walking slowly and keeping low but also stopping every now and again to scan the area with my binoculars and listen. It’s incredible how quiet it is out here with only the sounds of small birds and the odd 'laugh' of a grouse breaking the silence.

My aim was to make across this area to a pile of tree roots a mile from where I crested the hill as it was a good place to get some height and scan the surrounding area. I got to about 150 yards from the pile when I spotted some movement. I laid down and looked through the scope of my gun to see four red deer hinds (females) move out of the wood onto the moor. They where far too far from me to be in range and anyway hinds are not in season until November. Normally there are adult stags or young stags that follow groups like this so I kept still and watched them move across the hill.

I took stock of the ground around me and my position. A little way ahead of me I saw that the ground rose to a small patch of heather this would be a good place to be if any thing followed the hinds out of the forest. I crawled on my belly keeping low so that the deer would not see me. The wind was blowing into my face so they had no idea I was there. Just as I reached the place I was making for I caught sight of some more movement through the small trees just to my right. I looked through the scope and saw a young stag appear. He moved out following the hinds. The rangefinder told me he was 250 yards away - not a problem with a rifle I was used to but this was my first time with this rifle so I preferred to get closer.

I moved forward slowly another 100 yards keeping low, crawling through wet heather and sliding over the fallen trees. Now the Hinds had moved further out on to the moor the stag had pretty much stayed where he was. I took aim and waited for him to turn side on for the ideal shot that would kill him out right. I waited for what seemed like an age before everything was right and I had not only a safe shot but a shot that was not going to just injure the animal. If the shot is not right, do not take it. Safety and the welfare of the animal is paramount when stalking deer - the animals must be dispatched quickly and cleanly just as our domestic livestock is dispatched in an abattoirs.

I breathed in and out and took the shot. The hinds further along looked up as the stag fell, but did not run. As far as they where concerned they had heard something but could see no danger. I waited five minutes and then got up to make my way to the carcas and as I rose out of the Heather the hinds ran off along the hill. Once I got to the stag I could see it was around 18 months old with antlers about a foot long. He must have weighted around the 125 kg mark. This was a good animal to take as he was one of the younger animals from this herd that Ronnie had told me needed to go. At one year to 18 months old this was also prime eating venison. Once garloched (gutted) I felt every kilo of the 125 as I dragged it two miles back to the Land Rover and headed home for supper."