On the trail of Fantastic Mr Fox (From News Shopper)

On the trail of Fantastic Mr Fox

11:05am Tuesday 28th October 2003 in

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On a cold, wet and windy autumn morning, the last thing I felt like doing was traipsing around muddy woodland.

My fellow huntsmen and women, in contrast, seemed to be in high spirits — wet conditions are apparently ideal for hunting, as it is easier for the dogs to pick up the foxes’ scent.

The 37 hounds were released — there is always an odd number, since it is the task of the lone hound at the front of the pack to kill the fox — and we were on our way.

Joining me on foot on the hunt (and paying for the privilege) were retired builder Peter Deacon and ex-teacher Jenny Gore, who have been hunting for a combined total of 93 years.

In the 40 years she has been hunting Mrs Gore insists she has only ever witnessed six kills.

She explained: “The pleasure I get from hunting is derived from seeing and hearing the pack in full cry, following the fox’s scent.” Her sentiments were echoed by senior hunt master Ian Anderson, an engineer by trade, whose task it is to organise the day’s activities and ensure the numerous hunting rules and regulations are adhered to, and permission is granted by the farmers to use their land.

He claims there is “absolutely no logic” to the argument which says huntsmen are lawless trespassers.

He said: “The ‘antis’ happily wander where they please, but as soon as a hound lays so much as a paw on private property we are accused of trespassing. It’s utter hypocrisy.” He added he has seen a newly-born lamb “torn limb from limb” by a fox while its pregnant mother gave birth to another, which was then also swiftly devoured.

Thus, the hunters believe they play an important role in protecting the farmers’ livelihoods.

If, during the course of a hunt a fox “goes to ground” (disappears down a hole), it will only be dug out and shot on the say-so of the landowner.

On the day no foxes were caught, which is a rarity. Though the number of animals killed on a hunt varies widely, Mr Deacon assures me that “they rarely draw a blank, which is a sure sign of over-population.” The arguments put forward by the huntsmen were invariably coherent, convincing and well made.

I am glad I went on the hunt and learnt more about the blood sport, though am not in a rush to repeat the experience. One thing is for sure, the weather would have to be kinder next time.