Shooting over the floods

AEB Johnson finds some good sport on a small, waterlogged meadow

In this modern age of better drainage and mechanical efficiency on the farms, good rough meadows that become marshy and waterlogged following the first prolonged rainfall of the autumn are becoming increasingly scarce. In fact, in many districts, such a thing is now a rarity.

Where once duck and snipe could find plenty of first-class feeding grounds, today they are very much more restricted. So, too, are the inland fowlers and rough shooters who relied upon small areas of autumn and winter floodwater for much of their sport. Anyone who has not had the opportunity of shooting over such ground may not realise what really excellent sport even a tiny patch of winter floodwater may show. In recent years, I have been fortunate in having permission to shoot on a small farm that has just such a spot, and I have been well pleased by the variety of sport that it has provided.

This rough meadow lies in a valley-bottom beside a narrow, meandering brook. Tall willows line the banks of the stream for much of the length of the meadow while, towards the narrow end, clumps of thick blackthorn fringe the water.

The meadow is drained by a wide ditch, whose marshy verges are a mass of pink willowherb in summer. Tall, tussocky grasses, sedges and rushes grow in profusion and the meadowland hereabouts is always moist. Here and there along the brook tall stands of teasels flourish, beloved by twittering charms of goldfinches in winter, while clumps of thistles and docks colonise the drier areas.

Thick vegetation

In its normal state, the meadow is a wonderful place to find a pheasant or two. They love to rest among the thick vegetation after having fed on nearby arable fields and stubbles. At dusk, they frequently prefer to juk down among the grassy tussocks rather than fly up to roost in the greater safety of the trees. Between outbreaks of myxomatosis, strong, healthy rabbits are to be found lying out in the tussocks, with sometimes a tell-tale hole giving away their position. If one is really close, one may see a rabbit’s bright eye as it sits snugly in its seat.

These rabbits offer very sporting shots as they bolt across the rough pasture for the safety of the hedgerow bank. Often it is a matter of snap shooting as the quarry dashes between two thistle patches, and quite often one is not certain whether one has registered a hit or a miss. On occasions a hare may turn up or a covey of partridges, for this wild little meadow is a magnet for any game in the immediate vicinity.

For me, however, it is not until the first floods of autumn that it really comes into its own. Then the narrow brook becomes a rushing torrent of muddy brown water and the flow in the central ditch is promptly put into reverse. Gradually, the coloured water spreads out over the meadow, and within hours the whole area resembles a shallow lake with only the tops of rushes and grasses showing.

Almost as if by magic there are mallard flighting in at dusk. The rapidity with which the birds find such a flood always amazes me.

They seem to know precisely when conditions are right, even though the majority of them must flight some considerable distance to reach the place. Occasionally an odd spring of teal may turn up, but it is the mallard that predominate. A little judicious feeding with barley and miscellaneous barn sweepings to augment the natural food in the form of grass and dock seeds ensures that the mallard keep flighting in regularly at dusk while the water remains. In most years the floodwater may last until the end of the season, for once the meadow is really waterlogged it remains in this state for weeks on end, often being replenished by further floods.

In addition to the duck, there are always plenty of snipe. It is not unusual to flush anything up to

50 or more in small wisps, pairs and singletons. Their normal routine is to lie up among the waterlogged vegetation by day and to flight out to feed at dusk, before it is dark enough for duck to move, returning again at dawn. When flushed during the day, a proportion of these snipe will usually drop back among the grasses within a few minutes of being disturbed.

Drop is certainly the operative word for, while in the midst of normal flight and frequently from quite a height in the air, they will nonchalantly fold their wings and plummet down towards the water, braking at the last moment with outstretched wings before alighting gently among the grasses.

On one larger flood that I have sometimes visited for evening flight, I have been crouching down among a patch of rushes at the edge of the water waiting for duck and

“The rapidity with which the birds find such a flood always amazes me”

had snipe after snipe plop down around me. They would come in with that characteristic swift rushing sound, followed by a light plop as they landed in the shallow water. Frequently I would see nothing of them because of the low background of trees and the poor light. Provided that I kept still, these birds would begin to feed. Once I moved, however, they would rise quickly, scaaping away into the dusk.

Attractive surroundings

With the exception of a wigeon flight under the moon when conditions are just right, I think that I enjoy an evening flight over shallow floodwater as much as any other form of duck shooting. Even on a calm evening with little or no wind one can usually expect some sport, and the whole atmosphere of such a waterlogged world is always attractive. Waiting for those first chattering quacks that herald an approaching flight of mallard or for that sudden, thrilling, alternating rush of wings as a pair of duck come swerving down to the water at speed never ceases to thrill.

Often, that last half-hour or so as the winter light gradually fades can afford more sport than one has experienced during the previous part of the day. Even to have a shot, or perhaps two, and watch a plump mallard fold up and fall headlong into the shallow water in that seemingly slow-motion manner that falling duck have in the twilight, is well worth the wait. Sometimes, when wind and weather conditions are ideal, one may do much better. Whatever the results, however, one will enjoy that satisfaction that derives, simply, from being out in such wild surroundings.

This article was first published in the 9 December 1965 issue of Shooting Times.

“The meadow is a wonderful place to find a pheasant or two; they rest among the vegetation”

“I enjoy an evening flight over shallow floodwater as much as any other form of duck shooting”

“If one is really close, one may see a rabbit’s bright eye as it sits snugly in its seat”