Sport in the Fields and Woods by Richard Jefferies

Sport in the Fields and Woods by Richard Jefferies

Author:Richard Jefferies [Richard Jefferies]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781913159153
Publisher: Merlin Unwin Books
Published: 2019-03-15T00:00:00+00:00


from Pall Mall Gazette, 1878

Wild Fowl Shooting

Drifting in the darkness in a shallow skiff, with the mercury many degrees below the freezing point – with a blustering wind driving icy particles in the sportsman’s face and rocking him on tumbling water that occasionally breaks over him in spray – does not sound specially enjoyable to the uninitiated, nor is a combination of these untoward conditions indispensable to the sport of the wild fowl shooter, yet he infinitely prefers them to such weather as we have lately been experiencing. In a persistently open winter his occupation is well nigh gone, and the wild fowl, with all their senses about them, have it very much their own way. They are shy and wary, diving or rising out of sight or shot; for it takes hard weather to tame them and dull the keenness of their instincts. So the wild fowl shooter ought to be an enthusiast, afraid neither of exposure nor of severe work.

Of course he must be blessed with a sound constitution, or his will speedily be a case for the doctors; and enthusiast as he is, he must have coolness as well as nerve, otherwise excitement will spoil his chances and possibly run him into serious risks. He should have what corresponds in sport to ‘the five o’clock in the morning’ courage of war. For the long-expected opportunity may come to him when he is stiff and sleepy; he must decide on his tactics on the spur of the moment, and take a deadly aim from a rocking gun carriage. Nor independently of the chances of coughs and chest complaints would a prudent life office insure him on such easy terms as his friends whom he has left reposing on their feather beds. For every now and again, whether he is beating the swamps along the shore or retrieving his game on a mud bank, he may stumble on to some quicksand that is laying hold of his legs, and threatening him with the fate of the Master of Ravenswood; while if his ardour makes him forgetful of hydrographic observations, he may find himself fleeing for his life from a tide that flows like the Solway, with the odds in favour of the swift-running waves.

But in spite of all that, there are men with whom the sport becomes a passion, and we cannot say we are surprised at it, for assuming an average English season, with a fair admixture of cold and storms, the wild fowler may always count upon excitement in one form or another. If he does not come across the flight of swans or geese, if ducks and divers are scarce or shy, he may fall back on the humbler species of waders, such as sandpipers, oxbirds, redshanks, or greenshanks. They offer him the charm of infinite variety, and he never knows what he may next bring to bag. He may be floating silently in the doubtful light, when he becomes aware of a black patch on the water, that perhaps has drawn his attention by a tremulous movement of winds.



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