Posted: Sun Jan 01, 2012 11:23 am Post subject: A walk on the wild side.
I thought I would put down a few words about my experience in traditional ‘keepering.
Many of the younger generation of keepers have never had the experience of traditional methods of game keeping nor had the time to spend studying the natural history and ways of wildlife.
Grouse keepers still enjoy this aspect of the job as their focus is on the protection and development of a truly wild bird. With the pressures of modern low ground shoots, especially those who rear large numbers in house, many younger ‘keepers miss out as their time is taken up in other areas.
I was very fortunate to begin my involvement with gamekeeping through a huge estate on the Northeast coast. The estate was run by a farmers syndicate who pooled their resources and land to form a vast shoot run on very traditional lines. The shoot was located on the edge of North Tyneside as it is now known with huge urban developments encroaching all the time and a very “busy” place for trespass and poaching. The ‘keepering staff totalled 19 with a full time salaried Head gamekeeper and 18 volunteer beatkeepers working in pairs over 9 beats. There were 6 partridge beats and 3 pheasant beats. Each beat was shot twice a season, perhaps a third time in a very good year. The beat ‘keepers were mostly miners or industrial workers on shifts who could patrol the ground, run traps and snares and keep on top of the massive poaching problem. Their reward came from pride in their beat and competition to have the best counts and the opportunity to enjoy two days as a standing Gun when one of the other beats was shot. In addition great use was made of the numerous local kids who had been apprehended on the land. Some got fired off and taken home to face the music in front of their parents by the shoot captain, a fearsome man, who instilled great respect and terror in most people. Others were adopted as extra eyes and ears about the place if they looked like they might be worth the bother. Thankfully I got adopted as a “watcher”. Our role was to be about and report any dubious activity directly to the Headkeeper. We were issued with a few coins for the telephone call boxes and a strict instruction to keep out of the way when things kicked off.
I spent most evenings walking my spaniel on the old railway line which cut through from North to South or cycling the road which ran east to west. It was never a dull moment and there was scarcely a week without some form of trespass.
Dog men were a regular menace as hares were quite common and from harvest to the spring crops getting too tall there were frequent visits. These were hard men and not afraid to fight their way out of a corner. All of the keepers were well up to the job and the Police were disinterested so things got quite rough at times.
We also had some activities which many modern keepers may never have experienced. One evening I saw an elderly gentleman cruising the lanes and recognised him from the Head keepers description as someone to keep an eye on. Sure enough I later spotted his car parked up behind a derelict coalmine. The derelict pithead building and winding gear were still in place in those days, as was the still smouldering pitheap. It has a manicured garden surrounding a modern bungalow and is a livery yard and riding stables now. The gentleman was quietly wandering around the rushy meadow poking about with his walking stick. Every now and then he stopped and bent down placing something inside his coat each time. I cycled to the nearest village and phoned the Head keepers house and thankfully he was in. No mobile phones in these days. He came trundling around in his Land Rover and marched straight up to the old man and confronted him. After a short discussion and a frank and honest exchange of opinions the old man was grabbed roughly and searched against his will. Inside his jacket was a large pocket with a thick felt lining containing over a dozen Peewit eggs.
Green Plover eggs were a delicacy and very common in those days. They nested on the bare ground where the grass was shortest, either grazed off by rabbits or where it struggled to grow through a patch of pit spoil. The old boy know the spots after decades of pilfering them. Each nest would have four mottled eggs well camouflaged and lying like a cross small ends in the centre. The nest itself was barely a dip in the ground and hard to spot until you knew what you were looking for, which wasn’t much.
A much more serious crime was nest robbing along the hedgerows. The primary species on most of the shoot was the wild Grey Partridge. These were still very numerous but with the constant pressure from trespassers, dogs and cats spreading from the surrounding housing estates they needed all of the help they could get. Many people had small shoots of their own or just enjoyed the game of egging and protecting the partridge nests from animal and human interest was a big job.
A wild partridge pair forms in the New Year after the winter coveys disperse and the pair settle on a home range. By mid-March they will be spending lots of time around the hedge banks. A good wild partridge keeper would be looking to see which bit of bank they were favouring . As he walks his ground, perhaps looking traps or trail feeding a little trail of grain to boost the feed available in a territory, the keeper would look for the first signs of a nest. The partridges often formed several little scrapes, each the size of a fist and one of these would finally become the nest. There are many theories as to why they have a few options. Perhaps testing the drainage, the soil may be too hard, stony or they may just not like the spot. Whatever the reason they abandon most scrapes and favour one which is lined with local vegetation. Often when egg laying began they failed to cover the first two or three eggs properly. I sometimes wondered if this was testing the neighbourhood. If the eggs survived then perhaps this showed it was a safe enough place to bring up a family. Sometimes you would see a pair every day but the nest was impossible to spot. Then it was a waiting and watching game. This was fine in a late spring when the cover was slow forming on the banks and by watching the hen you could narrow the search but in deeper cover the hen would disappear and you were little the wiser. You had to be careful as overdoing it would cause the pair to abandon the spot. A long hazel stick, 6 foot or so long, allowed you to part the grass carefully to find the nest without getting close enough to trample the cover down revealing the nest to prying eyes, both human and animal. The location of the nest was written in a book and then the map was marked so that you knew as many as possible and so did the Headkeeper. He would check and it had better be right. It was very unwise to physically mark a nest as others may spot the marker and save themselves the trouble you went to in finding it. It was several season before I was allowed to go nesting and be trusted to know the sites. Once the nests were known they were checked discreetly every few days and the egg numbers noted. Any predation, disturbance or theft was carefully noted. It was also vital to be very discreet when nesting as you could be watched from the public roads and footpaths. Just as we watched the partridges, so others watched us to discover the location of nests. _________________ CPSA Qualified Level 1 Instructor
CPSA Qualified Level 2 Coach-ESP
Very Good read!
He who walks slowly see's many things!
Something that is lacking in modern ways and people. _________________ Polmaise Gundogs
One Shooter One Spaniel One Retriever
You cannot post new topics in this forum You cannot reply to topics in this forum You cannot edit your posts in this forum You cannot delete your posts in this forum You cannot vote in polls in this forum
FAQ
Search
Memberlist
Usergroups
Join! (free) 
Profile
Log in to check your private messages
Log in
