Shooting Times & Country Magazine
Upland keeper
If bird flu is to blame for lower numbers of raptors seen this summer, it could be a worrying sign that the disease is spreading more widely
It will have varied a bit from region to region — most things in nature do — but one thing numerous country people have told me is they have seen fewer raptors in the skies this summer, particularly buzzards. A list of said birds crossed my computer a while ago and the one thing that struck me was the sheer number of birds and species it contained.
These were all birds that had been sent into government laboratories to be tested for bird flu and had tested positive. There was pretty much every species you could think of, and one or two you may not. Harriers are a prime example, and why not. After all, they will target other birds to eat and will pick the one that is in poor health from perhaps hundreds of others.
That is the hunter’s eye – to pick the weakest from the mass. It is, for example, noticeable just how often two Guns, when faced with multiple birds to shoot, pick the same one. Why? Because it is the most obvious one to kill, and raptors are no different. In fact, they are probably better at it than we are.
Buzzards, if you believe the Packham brand of birdwatching, are scavengers. This is a myth as buzzards will kill pretty much anything they can get their talons into and if a bird of any description is sitting there feeling grotty and not paying attention, then it’s high on the hit list.
It will also explain, other than the fact it is our most common raptor these days, why the buzzard outnumbered all the others on the list by several times.
Serious damage
This current dose of bird flu originated in the Far East, where COVID-19 came from, but unlike our version, it did not hop on a passenger jet to circumnavigate the globe, but used the worldwide web of migratory bird flightlines to reach our shores. It has done serious damage to bird populations, especially those that live in high densities, such as breeding seabird colonies.
Last winter, it hit some populations of migratory geese hard and it is very likely that, during this period, some of the large raptors were infected, eagles and sea eagles, which would either kill infected birds or simply be eating dead ones. From what I have read, the real worry is that the current strain of bird flu is now endemic in so many species that we may have it for many years. It has, for example, persisted in the seabirds on the east coast of northern
“Bird flu is now endemic in so many species that we may have it for years”
England pretty much all summer and it won’t be long before the big skeins of overwintering geese and huge numbers of wading birds arrive once more to set off the train of events all over again.
If I were a current working grouse keeper I would be concerned about leaving large stocks in these troubled times as bird flu is more prone to afflicting highdensity populations. When the migrants are crossing and returning to the moors next spring, there is a risk that it might be transferred into the grouse. If bird flu does arrive it may not be carried by wading birds, it might be the lowly pipit or similar, as they also congregate in large numbers during the winter months, very often at the coast, where they can be infected by other coastal visitors. Let’s hope that scenario does not materialise as we have enough problems to deal with without that one.
Ilove this time of the year. To be out at sunrise, wandering the Ayrshire forest with its spectacular colours, contrasted as they have been recently by blood red skies as the sun peeps over the horizon, has been simply magical. Mornings, now with a distinct autumnal chill, are signalling that it will soon be time for the ‘roar’, when the focus of my stalking turns to the woodland stags in the forests close to home. Although much less vocal than their hill cousins, at up to a third bigger in body, they are a truly magnificent beast.
Thicket search
But this morning it was Zosia taking the lead. We had a lost stag. Last night, one of the clients had shot a young stag from a small bachelor group browsing the edge of a conifer plantation. The shot had sounded good, the stag jumped from its front end and dashed forward into cover.
All the signs indicated a solid engineroom hit. All the group had disappeared in an instant, but could be heard crashing through the trees. The guys had paused to take stock and held off before moving slowly forwards, expecting to find the beast within 30 to 40 yards.
But, after a thorough search, there was no sign. They were severely hampered by very thick vegetation — the conifers here are at the thicket stage, so it is a belly crawl to get underneath them and, once under the canopy, it was almost dark. Head torches are next to useless here, the beams are simply reflected at you. They withdrew in full darkness, dejected. No one likes to lose a deer, but much worse is the nagging doubt that the beast may be injured and suffering. It is not a nice feeling.
At first light, I was back and, having found the shot site, I examined the group of sticks in the form of an arrow left for me to indicate the direction the stag had run. I fitted the tracking harness to Zosia, her signal to go to work.
She was keen and, with nose down, she was quickly inspecting a small piece of lung, confirming to me that the shot had been a good one. The stag should not be far, but sitka spruce at this stage of its growth is a nightmare to get under with no room below the lowest branches.
Zosia twice tried to head off in the wrong direction. Miffed, I pulled her back, directing her along the line indicated to me by the stick markers. She duly obeyed and dragged me around after her for some time, but we found no stag. By now, I had pine needles where they should not have been.
I was puzzled. She should have found this deer easily. It could not have gone far. We backtracked to the shot site and started again. As soon as I got back, she pulled me strongly in the opposite direction again. How many times have I said to folk working a line to trust the dog, so I let her go and, within no more than 70 yards, I was standing over a stag.
I have had many conversations about working tracking dogs over the years and have always counselled others to trust the dog. I should follow my own advice. My phone call to a relieved client confirmed the stag was recovered and the shot placement was perfect. For my own part, it was mission accomplished, but a timely reminder once again to “always trust the dog”.
“I have always counselled to trust the dog. I should follow my own advice”
Chris Dalton is the founder of South Ayrshire Stalking. Visit ayrstalk.co.uk