Shooting Times & Country Magazine
Elijah’s last hurrah
Graham Lorne reveals that patience is a virtue for eastern counties countryman Elijah James as he wins a lifelong battle with Reynard
To see a fox nowadays is a common occurrence, as the species has adapted equally to life in town as well as country. However, in the first seven decades of the 20th century, the sighting of a fox in many districts of the eastern counties was almost cause for hysteria. Despite carrying a gun by day and night for much of his adult life, Elijah James had never shot a fox, his few sightings being limited to fleeting nocturnal meetings as both hunters went furtively about their business.
Lijah always considered himself unlucky not to have shot a fox in the early 1940s. He had been completing some work at Lilac Farm, rounding up sugar beet stored in a hale (clamp) near Chandler’s Lane. As always,
Lijah had his double-barrelled Darlow magnum hammergun tied to the crossbar of his cycle.
On reaching the hale, he had taken a quiet look around to see if any game was within range of his gun. No game was, but Lijah was soon frantically untying his gun when he saw a fox was steadily trotting along the hedge leading to the hale. He was about to slip a 3in Eley cartridge into the breech when Sid, who had been sent to assist Lijah, arrived on his cycle. Lijah quietly advised Sid to keep still as a fox was heading their way. The sight of a fox in the area, especially in broad daylight, was unheard of and
Sid, not noted for his intellect, began to ridicule Lijah. “A fox? A fox? There ent no foxes in this village.”
Unfortunately, Sid hadn’t said this quietly and when Lijah next looked, the fox had altered its course away from the clamp as it headed towards Lilac Farm. Lijah never suffered fools gladly and for many years after the fox incident, he cited this as all the evidence he needed for nominating Sid for the position of village idiot.
Word quickly got around that
Lijah James had seen a fox in the parish. Every pothunter, smallholder, shepherd, poultry keeper and shooting man in the district was now
“There are still a few locals who recall his glee as he showed them the sack’s contents”
on his guard for that fox, for to shoot or snare it would have given them great kudos in the community. When Charlie’s demise came about, it was by a most unexpected means.
Jesse Daines owned Poppylot Farm. When not farming, he was