My eyes opened just before 4 o'clock and realising I was wide awake I checked my iPhone to see if the weather report had improved since the evening news last night. Nope - a pretty rotten day was forecast, but not as bad as it would be on Sunday, so I slipped quietly out of bed and gathered my winter woolies, hat, coat, etc. As I sit here typing at midday my wife is telling me I woke her up, but I don't think so sweetie - I heard soft and steady snoring. It must have been when I dropped my boots in the dark a few minutes later that you woke up. You were asleep again when I turned back home to collect my forgotten gloves.
As I was driving to this morning's farm I saw a familiar vehicle with a dog cage on the tray-back. It was still completely dark when the driver of that vehicle and I stopped at the roadside and shared notes on where we'd seen the freshest sign of pigs lately. His dogs were always top performers at finding them; I would be relying on my eyes, or perhaps my ears if I was close.
About halfway along the nine kilometres I walked I saw the first fox of the morning, looking healthy and well fluffed up against the cold and drizzly dawn. The wind was in my favour and the light was still dim; it wasn't aware of me. It had been standing still for a while, no hurry at all, so I concluded I would have time to move up to a craggy old fence post, put my earmuffs on and take a rested shot. The Zeiss scope helped me find him again in the half-light and with it set at 4 power the cross-hair was steady. I'd already adjusted the ASV+ turret to 100 metres. The fox was way beyond that but I knew the shot would be high. I pushed the cocking-lever across to the right, feathering the locking tab to keep it quiet, then felt for the trigger with my gloved finger. I would use the trigger in its normal weight, not the set-trigger. Yep, he's still there. Aim. Bang. Down.
'Good shot', I said to myself quietly, followed by, 'Good rifle'.
There was much less light than the photo suggests. After I'd put the phone back in my pocket I saw through the mist a shape that looked like another fox, sitting and facing me, next to a bracken patch at 150 metres. The Zeiss confirmed this. My movements didn't frighten it off as I expected; rather, it started trotting towards me. Or perhaps it was following the first fox. It soon stopped, then ran off a bit, stopped again, sat and watched for a few seconds, then ran off into the bracken. I didn't fire. It was too far for an off-hand shot. I also didn't want to give any pigs in the area another clue as to which way to run. I saw a third fox later during my walk but it also got away. A flock of sheep were behind it when it stopped to look at me. Clever fox.
The misty drizzle was getting heavier and was covering my glasses and the Zeiss lenses with a fine layer of micro-drops. The pigs would have snuck into heavy cover by now. Time to head for the car, have a warm drink and drive home, where I would dry off and lubricate my Mauser M03.
