We love a first
We are looking down at the lodge from the rifle range....with the river Findhorn just below the lodge, winding its way through the Glen. Every now and then the silence is broken by the roar of a majestic red Stag far above us on one of the many steep scree faces. You know you're in the Highlands, it's October and the rut is on!
"Three shots at the target please" - I asked our stalking guest who had made the trip to Invernesshire, Scotland with his partner, a lovely couple who are both passionate rifle shooters.
David, the Estate stalker settled our guest onto the grassy knoll which was the firing point for the range. Our guest chambered a round and we all spied down towards the target board - first shot, perfect and the two that followed were the same and could easily have covered a fifty pence piece.
David took his binoculars down, re-lit his half smoked roll up, looked at our guest and said "Aye, that will do, let's head out the hill and have a spy!"
Driving out through the glen and into the hills with steep sides, the river flowing between the hills all mixed with autumn colours is a spectacular - a sight that can't be beaten. We stop every once in a while to spy for Stags holding Hinds - some tucked away on the heathery face or looking down on us from ledges above the rocky burns.
It's always quiet on the drive out, even with guests who have stalked with us for many seasons, everyone is in their own world just absorbing the grandeur of the Glen.
We gained our height and it was time to set out on foot, Indian file, with David leading the way, then our guests, and myself at the back as chief lunch carrier and official photographer. It was a lot windier as we walked out than in the bottom of the Glen and a few black clouds were looming. You can expect four seasons in a day on the hill in Scotland but thankfully everyone had come prepared.
The pace was good, steadying away and carefully spying the landscape. David suddenly dropped to his knees and we all followed suit, not moving as he did his thousand yard stare - he moved onto all fours and did a complete U-turn - without uttering a word we all did the same. I was the last to drop and roll into one the many peat runners that provide fantastic cover when stalking on the hill. Now we were all safely out of sight in the peat runner David explained that he had seen a large group of hinds but hadn't seen the Stag - but he was confident that there would be one with them. Our guest and David needed to crawl in to see if there was a mature shootable Stag holding the hinds.
David had carefully taken the rifle from the slip and was running through the plan with our guest, his final words to him were "Keep on my heels and follow me in, as flat as you can, leave anything from your pockets here or you'll lose them on the crawl in". A sharp nod to me from David and last thing I saw was the yellow Vibram tag on the bottom of our guests boots as they both slithered out of the peat runner.
Well.... we sat in that peat runner for I really don't know how long, but in that time the clouds had gathered and the wind had picked up with that fine sideways rain that gets you very wet very quickly!
A faint "Peeeesh" sound in the wind ..... was that a shot ? I'm sure I heard something I said to our guests partner - we held our ground and sat tight.
Two wet figures appeared shortly after and jumped down into the peat runner. I immediately looked at them both and put my thumb up.....unfortunately a miss David said. "Clean miss?" I said.. "Aye" replied David. I could see the absolute disappointment in our guests face as he went over to chat to his partner. This was our guests first time stalking Red stags on hill ground and as everyone who hunts knows a lot of time, thought preparation and money goes into organizing a hunting trip - both myself and David felt for him!
We had no time to try for another Stag that day as the weather had come in and we were losing the light so we headed back to the vehicle with a very silent drive back to the lodge.
A few drams, a bath for our guests and then we settled down to a wonderful evening meal. The topic of conversation was the days stalking and of course the ifs and buts.... I felt our guest needed another chance and knowing he had only booked one day I persuaded him to stay and try for a Stag in the morning.... "Thank you I would love to" was his answer!
The next morning the weather had changed in our favour and we had made an early start. The wind was perfect as we all belly crawled down a small burn in the attempt to get near a Stag holding hinds on a steep face. As we did the day before, we watched them slide away, down and around a bend in the Burn and out of our sight. This time we both heard the strike, a solid thud. Our guests partner knew that definitive sound and just whispered "Yes".
I looked to my right to see hinds running out and I checked through my binoculars - no Stag - result! So I wriggled to the top of the burn and looked across to see David beckoning us over to were they had taken the shot. We arrived at a very different sight to the day before, hand shaking and back slapping and what a beautiful mature eleven point Stag he was and everyone so happy for our guest.
As tradition dictates in the Scottish Highlands you must be blooded on your first Stag and I can assure you all that David is very traditional.....he inserted his knife and the blood flowed from the Stag - removing our guests cap, he then bent down and cupped his hands under the steady flow and in one swift move was up and smearing our guests face. Followed by a solid handshake David said " We love a first, congratulations".
