Vermin
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Beagles Passing Through
The Chayne is a hopeless spot for hunting. Surrounded on three sides by forestry, any likely looking fox immediately high tails it to the nearest cover, easily shaking off the hounds in the dense cover of the trees. The Dumfries and Stewartry gunpack has tried and failed to draw the land on several occasions. In Continue reading
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Crows and my part in their downfall
Until I really gave it some thought, I couldn’t truly pinpoint why I hate crows. It is a hatred that seems to permeate every corner of my existence, and working out the specifics was a hard task. Carrion crows truly are some of the foulest and most poisionously vicious animals in the world. I love Continue reading
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Little Meg
It was time I had a big rifle. Over the past sixteen years, I have owned two valueless rimfire contraptions; a rusty BSA .22 with an unpredictable safety catch and an exceptionally long barreled Brno. Those two guns killed thousands of rabbits, hundreds of crows and precisely two foxes, but they were immediately overshadowed by Continue reading
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The life and death of John McClane
We started to get to know the foxes on the Chayne. Sometimes our acquaintances lasted longer than others, but two or three individuals started to stand out as being particularly noteworthy characters. To date, “Pale Pete” and “Flashman” are still at large, but the story of John McClane is one that is worth telling. On Continue reading
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Red Offenders – The gauntlet is thrown down
I knew that there were foxes on the Chayne. I had fired at one on the 12th of August and the local hunt always turned up one or two, but nothing prepared me for my first night’s lamping there. I asked Richard, a friend with a reputation for rifle accuracy to come with me, and Continue reading
About
“Shout on, Morgan. You’ll be nothing tomorrow”
Swn y galon fach yn torri, 1952
Also at: https://andtheyellowale.substack.com
Bog Myrtle & Peat 