There is one disease in this overview of illnesses affecting game that is garnering a lot of attention – and, unfortunately, we probably haven’t heard the last of it: African swine fever.
12 Posts By Vincent Piednoir
Ah, the empty bag! Every hunter has come back with it, and no hunter looks forward to it! Empty, but usually with a bitter tinge of disappointment and a bitter feel; it can put you in a bad mood, even make you insufferable to friends and family…
But what would hunting be without it? What pleasure would we get from the battue, the night in the hide, or the walk-up, if the possibility of the empty bag never loomed in our mind?
The fear of leaving empty-handed
Every hunter knows this grim paradox. Waiting for the bird, looking for the hare, casting the hounds after the boar, we all hope the quarry will appear in our sights, presenting us with a shot – fairly and squarely, of course!
Yet the possibility of it not happening, of our efforts and stratagems and trusted techniques being fruitless and for nothing, adds piquancy to our excitement.
Learning patience through hunting
It has often been said that hunting provides a master class in patience, and so it does; but it also teaches us to master the possibility of failure, though without ever truly succeeding, thankfully.
For surely the most wonderful and deepest aspect of the hunt is precisely the fact that the lure of the marsh or the woods does not wane, despite, or perhaps because of, the times we come back empty-handed. In it is a touch of sublimated instinct that brings us truly to life and, in some way, keeps us from apathy.
I have never understood that hunters can be blasé, personally: for me, it’s a complete contradiction in terms, and maybe returning from the hunt empty-handed serves to protect us from a state of mind that by its nature shuts out wonderful excitement. Especially as we always do “see” something out on the hunt: we just have to open our eyes and ears…
An example, to illustrate
Picture the scene – which won’t be difficult as many of our readers have been in similar situations. I’m standing at the foot of an enormous oak tree, bang in the middle of a forest. Most of the leaves have fallen; a tenacious, cloaking mist hangs all around; I know that the easterly wind of the last few days has brought in a fair number of wood pigeons. All bodes well for the “on-the-branch” shooting I’m hoping for, wrapped snugly in my hunting jacket, gloves on hands and balaclava pulled tight…
The first few minutes see birds speeding over the treetops, followed by others, then more still. I’m sure that some among them end up roosting within range of my shotgun.
The minutes go by and turn into an hour, two hours; night is looming and I still haven’t shouldered once; my chances are fading, but I still believe. Around me I can hear whistling and flapping wings; I catch a glimpse of a shadow of these lightly “mocking” birds; some have settled further away, but too far away, and with no way to get nearer… We’ve been there before: who’s the pigeon, now? At the end of the day, Lady Luck didn’t smile on me; time to take down the lofting poles and go home.
A stronger state of mind
Disappointing, yes, because I believed. It all looked so promising… But the conundrum, the great conundrum, is that tomorrow and the day after that, a year and ten years from now, despite everything, I’ll still believe. And the day I do come away with a fine bag, maybe on a day when the conditions are conspiring against me, I’ll remember the times I left without a harvest, the countless empty bags, the fruitless waits and frustrated efforts that make the successes so meaningful.
This modest example of a fruitless pigeon hunt can be applied to every hunting discipline, of course. It merely shows that the heart of the hunt is hope permanently fed by desire. So, hurray for the empty bag!
Hunting is sometimes full of surprises. To tell the truth, the story I have decided to share with you today will seem so curious and unusual that the reader will easily understand that I hesitated a great deal before deciding to recount it.
It was last December, in the heart of my native Normandy. A week before it took place, I had received an invitation to participate in a wild boar hunt through a long-time friend, a great wild boar enthusiast and an excellent shot.
Not very big (30 to 60 cm long), not very heavy (400g to 2kg), this hunter’s companion is very efficient at flushing out rodents – and especially rabbits – from their burrows. They are enthusiastic sleepers, especially when their stomachs are full. For several decades now, ferrets have been considered as quirky pets: their appearance and behaviour are not without a certain charm.
Hunting is much more than just a sport or a hobby: it’s a true philosophy of life and we haven’t yet fully understood all the issues it raises. Since time immemorial, it has inspired the cultural world – in its widest sense – and particularly, pictorial art.
This type of hunting, which is widespread in Europe and much appreciated for the excitement it arouses, generally requires a large number of participants. Obviously, this is a good thing as it allows more than one landless hunter to fully experience and share their passion. Beyond the popular and unifying dimensions, in this most individualistic of times, the driven hunt is a standardised exercise in hunting which requires discipline, self-control and strict attention to safety regulations.
It is likely that the art of falconry first appeared on the high plateaux of Central Asia 4,000 years ago. Falconry (or hunting on the wing) is the hunting of natural game in its environment using a specially-trained bird of prey.
As with walk-up hunting, stalking large game demands patience, acute observation and absolute silence. Originating in Germany, this practice is inspired – like the majority of hunting methods let us not forget – by the ruses used by some animals of prey in their natural surroundings to find food (from polar bear to pike, including big cats and snakes).
Dr. Jean-Louis LLombart is a physician and a writer, contributing to the magazine Jours de Chasse (“Hunting Days”). He is very well versed in big game hunting in Africa, with which he fell in love some twenty years ago. In his articles, he recounts in his elegant style his adventures on this vast continent where Nature reigns supreme and Animals, by their power and splendour, seem to require a capital A.
At least based on appearances, Snowy, famous canine companion to the even more famous Tintin, was certainly one… Indeed, it’s impossible not to think of this most celebrated and adorable ambassador of the breed, faithfully recreated even down to its faults – the most obvious of which is its highly ‘tenacious’ character – when calling to mind the Fox Terrier. For if Hergé
Understanding foreign hunting permit laws will certainly help you out if you’re looking at hunting abroad – Our first feature on Sport Abroad looks at the Belgian hunting laws, whether you’re moving to Belgium or simply interested in hunting in the country, here is what you should know…