Bean there, done that

Pigeons love beans, an easily spotted target that they can clean up in no time at all — which is when they’ll look for their next meal, says Fenman

You have to be quick. If you spot a pigeon feeding on a field freshly drilled with beans, go now, for tomorrow it will be too late. The pigeon is not a digger for seeds like a rook: it prefers to scoop up the grains left lying on, rather than under, the crumbs of soil. A flock of pigeons on a drill might well cast some doubt on the ability of the farm worker who put in the seed, or upon the amount of preparation of the seed bed, upon the frost the land had received, or upon the heaviness of the ground.

Light soils are easier to drill well than heavier land; on the latter the crumbs might well be the size of walnuts. When a field in this state is drilled, the pigeons swoop on to it, rejoicing. Frost breaks up the soil and helps the farmer create a fine tilth in which the grain is easily concealed from greedy eyes. A badly set drill and a careless operator are friends of the pigeon and, even with modern sophisticated machinery, the human element remains the vital factor.

Identifiable

The trouble with beans is that the seed is large; Ssg-sized pellets of ‘tic’ or horse beans, coloured golden brown, make an easily identifiable target for a feeding pigeon. Grains of wheat may be overlooked first time over and the field requires more application on the part of the birds to find their food.

Beans they can clear quickly. I have seen a large flock of pigeons working a bean drill upwind at a smart walking pace. Every so often a squad at the rear of the flock would lift and fly over their guzzling brethren and jump the queue because nothing had been left behind for them to glean.

I walked on to the field the next day and was unable to find a single seed exposed to view. Some farmers aver that the pigeon does no harm at this time, as seeds left on the surface will not germinate and are therefore wasted anyway. This is short-sighted as those same birds will be back to punish the laid corn in high summer, or to strip the brassicas in the snow.

On Saturday I drove my family round the local village for a little outing. My wife was admiring the stately homes, the children spotting

tractors and I was pigeon searching. It was on the way home while driving down a country lane, past a thick pine belt — pheasant cover and windbreak combined — that I saw them. A newly drilled field was blue with pigeons; here and there was a rook. As we screeched to a halt, a trickle of birds could be seen dribbling in confidently to join those already down. It seemed a likely place and, delaying no more, I hurried home to a snatched lunch and a quick phone call to the farmer.

Flightline

I was back within the hour. The birds were still there, though they seemed more thinly spread than

I had remembered. Archie Coats rightly says that time spent on reconnaissance is seldom wasted and I soon identified a strong flightline coming from the far side of the field directly opposite the pine trees. This line and the stiff, chilly breeze obliged me to choose that side on which to place my hide. There was nary a bush or friendly clump of weed near the place of my choice, only a line of sheep netting. Usually, I would have sought better cover, but rarely have

I been on such an unfriendly field in that respect. My voluminous stocking hide was soon unrolled and blended with the background as well as could be expected.

I set out my decoys. How well they looked on a flat, featureless field after the previous weeks of rape and clover shooting, when it can be tricky to show decoys to advantage. As I tramped about I kicked up a single horse bean. This came as a slight surprise as the field had been drilled with spring wheat.

I hurried back to the hide and cleared the decks for action. The birds clattered off at my arrival and I was ready for them to come trickling back, eager to continue the feast. The wind was bitter and cut through the clothes that, in my haste to set off, were somewhat inadequate. However, the early spring sun shone brightly and fluffy clouds floated overhead.

Three hares came lolloping down the field, running in circles, suddenly hopping up or stopping to brush their whiskers with a forepaw. Overheard a skylark trilled, a tiny speck in the blue, appearing to be held in the sky by an invisible thread. He was laying an early claim to his nesting territory.

Just as one swallow does not make a summer, one skylark does not make a spring. March can seem a long month and can hold some reminders that winter is still not far behind.

The first pigeon gave me plenty of warning. He circled high overhead with a craning neck, but seemed reluctant to commit himself. A hide in such an exposed place is always a tricky proposition and the occupant must sit stock-still in order not to be observed. Eventually he made up his mind, swooped down, wavered, hovered and collapsed like a burst bag at my shot. After a decent interval I hurried out and set him on a wire.

Recently drilled

A dead pigeon is better than an artificial decoy and, in the early stages of a shoot, the sooner you can show some dead birds set up, the better. At my shot a great cloud of pigeons rose from the field on the far side of the firs and I realised then that this too had been recently drilled. What was worse, it slowly dawned on me that I was sitting on one of a number of fields that had recently been drilled. My early hopes of a good bag took another firm backward step.

I stuck it out and was perturbed to see a number of pigeons flying high over the field without showing much interest in my small patch. There was clearly a lot of rich feeding in the district. I did manage to get one high one that came spinning down, before I finally admitted defeat.

Cold and disappointed I lugged all my gear back to the car with only two birds to show for the afternoon. Pigeon shooting is becoming an increasingly chancy game. Some of the guidelines seem to apply less frequently. As I said — that’s the trouble with beans; pigeons can clear them too quickly.

“In the early stages of a shoot, the sooner you can show some dead birds, the better”

This article was first published in the 7 April 1976 issue of Shooting Times.

“The same birds eating the seeds will be back to punish the laid corn in high summer”

“Beans are large so make an easy target for pigeons — and they can clear a field of them very quickly”

“A great cloud of pigeons rose from the field on the far side of the firs”