Foxglove April 8 2009

Letting the weight of the implement do the work, he made a figure timeless and rural, swinging in long regular sweeps through the brash. I was completing the more modern task of checking transmitter collars and receiver boxes prior to collaring-up the ferrets, which job is far easier with two of us.

Today he would be shooting over the buries and I would be Ferretmeister. No dog today, for she was getting over a minor sprain sustained a few days previously while chasing a rabbit. This meant we could tackle those buries which were not suitable for nets and dog.

Having done sufficient clearing, we moved across to the woods, which were dotted with small buries covered in bracken and fallen branches. They would be a nightmare to net, and a danger to a dog, but ideal for shooting over. Moreover, there were no nettles in here, which was pleasanter for the ferrets, who don't like nettle stings any more than we do.

It always seems odd that rabbits, with their soft fur, can slide through any amount of nettle growth without being stung. While the hedgerow buries recovered from the noise of being cleared, the woodland buries provided one or two rabbits each as we worked our way along the track. Some rolled over to the gun, some ran and were there for another day, jinking between the trees to safety. We emerged at the top end, carrying our catch, and discussing our plan for the hedgerow.

It is not an easy place. Fallen trees block some of the bury, which is one continuous earthworks running most of the length of the old hedge. There is part of a fence half-buried through the middle, dried old nettle growth from last year refreshed by the odd patch of bramble, and new nettle growth which has doubled in size in a few days.

I think this may well be our last ferreting trip this year, with the cover coming up so rapidly. Rabbits usually run back towards another hedge running crosswise at one end, or forward to a small copse at the other, which makes the shooting challenging. You need enough ferret power to keep them on the move, or else the rabbits refuse to bolt, hopping out of one hole and down the next instead.

My friend took up position, and I stood out of the way, watching for ferrets. The rabbits bolted obligingly, one at a time, some running, and some denying the chance of a shot by ducking back underground. The ferrets stuck to their task despite the nettles and the stubbornness of the rabbits, and I was kept busy going up and down the bury to field the odd ferret that had worked its way back instead of forward.

I quite lost count of the tally because I was concentrating on the ferrets, and when at last the far end of the hedgerow was reached and I could start picking up the ferrets and returning them to their carrying boxes, I was surprised at how many more rabbits we had accumulated.

We gathered them up, and my colleague set about paunching them while I took the collars off the ferrets and rubbed their necks to make them comfortable again. The end of the ferreting season comes round too quickly, but rabbits are breeding now and we will have to keep on top of the numbers by other means, for they are very hard to bolt once they have young. #

To each season its own type of hunting, and we will be back here before long.