Shooting Times & Country Magazine
A hunter’s paradise
It’s a case of putting business before pleasure out on the hills of Galloway as Patrick Laurie checks in on some new woodland plantings
GALLOWAY IS A deerstalker’s paradise. Famous herds of red deer patrol across the high ground, while goats trek busily through the scree and heather below. Pockets of fallow deer add a spice of variety here and there, and roe run rampant through the whole county from Dumfries to Stranraer.
South-west Scotland is a broad and diverse piece of countryside and roe can be found everywhere from the richest riverside meadow to the steepest moorland plantations at every altitude. It’s no surprise that people come from across the country to stalk in Galloway and we deserve to be proud of our deer.
While our red deer stags often top the list as the biggest and best hill beasts in Britain, you don’t often see Galloway roebucks enjoying similar celebrity. As a general rule, our bucks are moderately sized. It’s unusual to find monster animals in this part of the world and, in a Scottish context, the medals tend to be found further east in Fife or Angus.
I have never been particularly fussed about points or trophy sizes and the scale of Galloway antlers is fairly unimportant to me when measured against the sheer quantity and diversity of stalking on offer. Besides, every head is subtly different from the last. Bigger is not always better and I am fascinated by the endless variety of style, structure and colour when it comes to roe antlers.
Rough ground
Having dabbled with roe stalking in Galloway almost 20 years ago, I took the plunge and joined a small syndicate with some friends in 2011. This ground is extremely rough and challenging, but it offers some
beautiful views out to sea on a clear day. The Isle of Man looms over the horizon and when the snow is down in the dark days of winter, it’s a pleasure to peer across to the Lake District. Some of the lower ground was planted up with hardwood trees
“It becomes clear that if a deer wants to cross a fence, it will find a way to do so”
in 2012 and, while our syndicate puts an emphasis on recreational stalking, we are also responsible for keeping the enclosures clear of deer.
Perhaps naively, I always thought that a deer fence was enough to keep deer out altogether. The reality is that fences merely reduce a deer’s ability to access an area and they still need to be policed. It does not help that parts of these fences run across some extremely rough areas of granite and scree, and several sections are forced to follow a very uneven line.
Adding to the logistical challenges of fencing, badgers have scraped hollows under the wire and a growing number of wild boar have begun to shove through the weakest areas. By ducking and weaving, the deer sneak through the gaps and it’s a constant struggle to keep on top of them.
Seven roe deer were trapped inside a 30-hectare enclosure when it was built and I helped to catch up with them. However, I am always amazed to find that deer continue to turn up as if from nowhere. I have seen one buck jumping the wire at a low point and
I once managed to capture trail camera footage of a doe wriggling under a hole like an otter. It becomes clear that if a deer wants to cross a fence, it will find some way to do so.
Culling rules
I look around these new woodland plantings once a month, but late March is a quiet time of year for stalking on this piece of ground. Given that most of our deer are culled for sport and venison, we are more active in the summer and early autumn.
When it comes to recreational stalking, I get a little squeamish about shooting does in March. It can be hard to draw up rules about which animals to kill and when. I usually work on a case-by-case basis after looking at a range of factors.
At this time of year, young followers are usually pretty independent of their mothers, but mature does can be well advanced with new pregnancies. When you are culling animals for your own freezer, it feels wasteful to kill an unborn youngster alongside its mother.
As I headed out for a walk with the rifle, I was aware that my search would probably be confined to young does. A delicious prospect in the oven, but a chancy quarry to find with any measure of success.
It’s a simple walk up through the open pasture to the high ground. Some rolling contours provide a good vantage point to lie up and spy the new woodlands with binoculars, and this is always the first step in a stalking outing. Business comes before pleasure. Any attempt at a roe for the freezer would be postponed or cancelled by the discovery of deer munching at the new trees.
I am always astonished by how well camouflaged deer can be in this kind of grassy, heathery terrain. They seem to be able to vanish. Conversely, deer can appear as if from nowhere and it always pays to look long and hard before setting out. The plantations appeared empty of deer. I had the green light to proceed on to the hill.
Abandonment
It was a dull day and cloud lay low over the steeper faces. Perhaps as a consequence of lockdowns, it has been interesting to see a rise in the number of visitors across Galloway. This used to be a very quiet piece of the country, verging almost on a sense of abandonment.
As I spied across the hill, it was clear that human beings had gone ahead of me. Sheep were bunched and curious, and the place felt oddly jangled. Sure enough, a glimpse of jackets and rucksacks in the mist seemed to bear out this suspicion and I realised that hikers and walkers are quickly becoming part of the landscape. I can hardly complain but, in a busy world, part of me regrets losing that sense of solitude and isolation in the countryside.
A fine fox emerged through the bracken on the final approach to the hill, but he had wisely chosen to make his presence felt on land where I have no entitlement to shoot. Twenty yards over the dyke and he would have been laid out like a rag doll, but instead he ambled away into the bracken and made himself scarce.
The cloud sank still lower and soon I was halfway up a steep bank of granite boulders and bracken. Deer tracks criss-crossed the dark soil and I found a place to sit and spy for an hour towards evening in a likely spot.
There is always something to see, but the hillwalkers seemed to have deflated the magic from the day. Ravens clocked and tutted above me, but the place felt eerily still. The most noticeable sound was the drab dribbling of water from a hill burn.
Patrick Laurie manages a conservation programme to promote farming and conservation with a particular focus on wading birds and black grouse, and he runs a farm in Galloway
I sat still and waited as a single roebuck emerged to pick through the short grass almost half a mile away. This would be the only animal to show itself during the course of the vigil and he was very aware that his season would not open for another fortnight.
I felt for those farms and estates visited by walkers during busy periods for deer management. It must be maddeningly frustrating to have your plans constantly overturned by visitors who may have no idea what a problem they have caused.
A cold wind drew me down from the hill, but the sight of a wheatear bouncing around the stones nearby served as a nice reminder of changing seasons. These birds symbolise the coming of spring in Galloway and, for all I had failed to come home with some venison, it was heartening to think of the summer to come.
This is a grand place to find bucks in July and autumnal expeditions for a doe in October have provided some of my happiest stalking memories.
“I sat still and waited as a roebuck emerged to pick through short grass half a mile away”