Shooting Times & Country Magazine
Upland keeper
It is very sad that a northern councillor thinks villages are unsuitable places for farms; luckily, grouse moor managers are far more sensible
Isometimes wonder when something new will turn up to remind me that, no matter how much we have witnessed during our working lives, we never know it all. These past few weeks have been a case in point as I saw a small stoat — in relation to its chosen prey item — trying to kill one of my rather large hens. I have only known one other case of stoats killing hens in my life, though I am aware of a few instances when they have been the end of quite a few domestic ducks.
The only mistake the most recent one made was it tried to do the deed when I was close to hand so will not get another chance. My hen is recovering well; but this came close behind the demise of another of my poultry flock at the mouth of a dog from the footpath that runs close to my house. No amount of signage seems to have any impact on some of the urban dwellers who like to take the country air accompanied by their beloved dogs, which, of course, would not hurt a fly.
Sights and smells
This event brings me on to my Victor Meldrew moment of the month when
I read a report from North Yorkshire in which a councillor, when commenting on a planning proposal, stated that villages were no place for farming enterprises and they should all be moved out. His reasoning was simple. The people who are coming to live in these quaint country villages do not want the sights, sounds and smells of farming life, including animals.
I did wonder what he was going to be told next time he happened to meet one of the farming community, especially if he had just lost an item of livestock or broken his most expensive implement.
The point is — and it is a sad one — many people have lost sight of just what the countryside does. It produces food for those who live in the rest of the country, including those who have chosen to live in the villages. If you chose to live in it, do not be surprised if the farmer revs up a machine at six on a Sunday morning if he has animals to tend and feed. Or if the livestock are making a noise because they know they are about to be fed.
Those of us who own dogs are well aware that they know feeding or exercise time as well as any clock.
Grouse stocks
On the moors, it appears that at least some owners and keepers are taking the dearth of grouse with some semblance of sense and are not leaving a large stock of birds to get back to mega bags. At least a few have been picking away at the surplus they have in an effort to redress the numbers and get back to what not too long ago would have been a reasonable stock.
Before medicated grit, that would have been about a pair of grouse to four or five acres. The maths is quite simple. On 1,000 acres of moor, a stock of 200 pairs equates to a very reasonable pair to five acres. An equally reasonable breeding season could see that stock average six or more birds per covey. Sometimes quite a lot more, even up to double figures. Even at six, it gives you a cropable surplus of 600 brace, and every couple of chicks more per brood and you can add an extra 200 brace on to the tally.
On a modestly sized 3,000-acre moor the fortunate owner or tenant can look forward to reaping nearly 2,000 brace of grouse for their season. At the current going rates for driven grouse shooting, that is more than capable of paying for a gamekeeper or two, unless of course they are now being paid far more than I recall just a few years ago.
The point of this whole back-of-anenvelope calculation is that you simply do not need vast numbers of grouse to pay the bills. This year Mother Nature has sent in her own bill just to remind everyone that, at the end of the day, she is in control, not us.
“Many people have lost sight of just what the countryside does — it produces food”