I found this tale by John Carver at the most entertaining www.sabotagetimes.com
...The reason we were meeting was to shoot some wild boar.
There are more wild boar where I live (in East Sussex) than anywhere else in England. Thousands of the buggers and they’re all at it like rabbits. As a result there’ll be thousands more before you can say “Pint of Harvey’s”. I squeezed into the double cab, having spotted a space that wasn’t occupied by a chainsaw or a roll of barbed wire and we drove across the field to the edge of the woods. We parked and I walked behind as Al carried a motherfucker of a something bore rifle and I carried a torch. He told me I was gonna be his “light-man”.
As we made our way along a track the evening was drawing in. It was getting darker by the minute. Up another track, down a further track. Across deep undergrowth. After a few moments me and Al found ourselves at the base of a dark green, metal ladder permanently attached the side of a tall tree. You’ll be forgiven for asking yourself what a ladder was doing in the middle of a forest. Don’t worry. The same thought ran through my mind.
Here’s the clever bit. Boar are bloody good at sniffing. Go after them and the last thing you can wear is Brut or Old Spice. They’ll smell fear or fags a mile off. However if you position yourself high up in a tree any aroma you might emit will waft its way high over the heads of your quarry. These country folk are a canny bunch.
Twenty feet up the tree was a “seat”. This is what they call it out here. A metal platform with a metal bench built into it. Not comfortable. Just practical. Al and I climbed up the ladder to the seat. I had his torch. He had his gun. We sat down and settled in behind a wall of camouflage netting.
Al told me not to talk. Not to move. Just to sit. And wait. There’s a lot of waiting in the country.
Al lifted his shooter and looked through the site at an open area. A clearing about 80 yards from our hideout. This is where Al reckoned the Wild Boar might roam as night drew in
Al lifted his shooter and looked through the site at an open area. A clearing about 80 yards from our hideout. This is where Al reckoned the Wild Boar might roam as night drew in. By now it was about 6.10pm. In the last 15 minutes we’d walked and climbed and sat. Now we were ready for action. Quite often people sit and wait and wait and wait. Then go home empty handed. There’s no guarantees. It could all be a waste of everyone’s time. Failing is all part of the fun. Tonight we were in luck. MORE HERE
Off to East Sussex myself - a full report on my return
SBW
Picture credit goes to Beastwatch
