BORCH'S FALCONRY - english
This weekend was my last chance to get out grouse hawking before the end of the season on dec 10th. So early saturday morning we loaded up the car with all the necessary paraphernalia (Not forgetting the birds!) and set off for a moor in SW Scotland, about 1 1/2 hours drive away. It was a glorious morning, hardly a cloud in the sky and for the time of year surprisingly warm.
We had with us a peregrine tiercel, a gyr/saker falcon, two Harris Hawks and my dear old ferruginous... We were going to catch something!
Anyway, we got up to the moor about 0900 and blocked out the birds to cast and acclimatise and set about preparing our equipment whilst breakfast was being cooked in the bothy. (A small stone shelter on the moor)
After a liesurely feast on bacon and eggs with wild mushrooms and fried bread (drool!) we picked up the pere and the hybrid and started off up the hill. It really was beautiful. We had got about a mile from the bothy when we got our first point. Rock steady and backed by my father's old dog. (We have always used English Pointers). My dear Papa unhooded the tiercel and after a rouse cast him off into the wind. Now, instead of getting his pitch over the dogs, he sloped off downwind toward some forestry and its resident flock of woodpigeons. Panic? Never! Much glove waving later and thankfully the dogs holding their point, my puffing father has got the tiercel overhead at about 700 ft. I think its what you US guys call specking out!! The flush... Four grouse... A split second whilst the tiercel picks his target... Then powers down... Folds... A short tail chase and down in the heather some 600 yards away... Father is running again!
One grouse down and one very happy old man, smiling from ear to ear, we wander on after the dogs. The next point will be mine and I'm hoping the hybrid will behave today. I don't mind admitting that I have had problems getting her to wait on at a decent pitch, she has a tendency to cruise around at 3 ft!!
Half an hour later and we are nearing the top of the moor and the NE wind is whipping over the summit, perhaps the hybrid will get some lift off that. Father's dog has a point... So off with the hood... And away... Downhill... and away!
I set off in pursuit, reaching for my tracker... you b***h... whistle, lure... exhausted and lungs burning... I've got her... you b***h...
Looking back through the glasses I see Father making in on his tiercel... Cheeky sod's got another one... By the time I catch up with him, you wouldn't believe the smile!!
We carry on over the summit, the wind now full in our faces and the dogs working well ahead of us... Another point... My turn again... (curse and swear deleted!) The trouble with this game is that you cant unhood a bird and cast it off with you fingers crossed so I try to cross my toes instead as I cast the hybrid into the strengthening wind - with a quick word to the almighty... This time she powers up over the dogs and as she gets to about 200 ft the grouse flush and she motors in... Too slow... Missed... She's now a good half mile off... Oh for a baggy... I'm running down the moor when she turns back towards me and as we meet I flush a lone grouse right under her... Bang! No mistake this time... Oh you beautiful bird!
Father and I set off to get back to the bothy for some lunch. Later that afternoon we had two more (one each!) and having settled the birds in for the night retired for a well earned rest.
Well... Father was so pleased with himself that we destroyed the best part of a bottle of fine malt whisky before staggering up to our beds!
However, being made of stern stuff we rose early on the Sunday morning and fighting off the hangover devoured a gargantuan breakfast before setting off for the moor at 0930. We (Father and I) have always had a policy of not hunting "game" on a Sunday. Hence the Harris Hawks and the Ferrug.
We were after bunnies and Hill Hares and I have been flying the H's in a cast for about a month. I took them off their parents on Oct 16th. Well you've all had a lot of fun with H's so I won't bore you with their exploits, save to say that we took four early morning bunnies before going back for the ferrug.
As I mentioned, Saturday's weather was glorious, Sunday was to become quite a different thing!!
Father and I took an early lunch in the bothy and set out looking for hares at about 1330, it is dark here now by 5 p.m., so we didn't have a lot of time. No dogs with us today, we made our way up the moor to where my hybrid had her first grouse yesterday, we had put up a hare on the way across and were hoping it might still be around... It was... But, by now the wind was blowing gale force and damn cold with a lot of wet snowy shit.
As we approached the summit I cast off the ferrug and she went straight up to 1000 ft, just soaring on the wind and cutting into it effortlessly. This particular bird is a real sweetie at home but she knows when there's business to be done. Anyway she's waiting on over us... Expectantly... As we start brushing down the side of the hill... Up jumps 'puss' and away they go... Into the gale... Wow that bird has some awesome power... She courses the hare for over a mile... All in sight, and I trust her... We just sit and watch... Our hares tend to run in big circles ending up nearly where they started from... We have lost sight of the hare but the bird is still on her, and turning back towards us... Then suddenly ferrug's powers down and dives into the heather... I start running towards her, as I approach I can hear the last dying wails of the hare and I make in on my bird with caution.
It was truly a fantastic flight, and I didn't have to eviscerate the hare, the remains of which I salvaged and the very nice chef at the hotel cooked it for our dinner... Another bottle of Scotch was demolished!
© 1996 Jeremy Masters All rights reserved
BORCH'S FALCONRY - english