Night pen patrol

Winter is always the start of a productive period for foxing, as dog foxes begin to boldly stray into new territories in search of a mate. Vixens will also be out in search of potential earths, often shortlisting several well in advance of the mating season.

The start of November proved to be a busy time for me, especially around one of the shoots. This year they brought in substantially more birds than usual, following the construction of a large release pen. With pheasants, partridges and a few turkeys in and around the pen, at dusk the sound of a couple of hundred birds settling in for the night draw foxes in from everywhere.

This year it was the rather friendly (if slightly dopey) turkeys that seemed to tickle the fancy of the local foxes. Over three nights two turkeys were killed and eaten next to the pen, where they liked to gather on the top rail of the fence.

SETTING UP

At the end of a long-range training day I had with a client, the farmer asked if I would take a look. I parked my truck by the bottom of the pen just as the light began to fade. I grabbed my rifle and gear from the back and headed up the opposite bank, which would give me a good view along the bottom of the pen, both corners and the top.

I was travelling light and simply carried my Mauser M12 rifle in .243 topped with the new HikMicro Stellar 3 thermal scope, my Rekon tripod, Habrok thermal binos and a magazine full of ammo.

At the top of the hill above the pen is another large wood, which I suspected would be where the fox in question might come from. From my chosen spot on the opposite bank I would likely see it making its way down the hill to the pen. I set the tripod up so that I could use it from a sitting position, before getting comfortable on a ridge that had been trodden flat by lines of sheep passing back and forth.

FIRST CONTACT

With generally few foxes in the area I wasn’t really expecting anything to turn up, especially as I could only spare an hour or so to sit out this evening. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

With the first sweep of the thermal binos along the bottom of the pen an unusual shape caught my eye down by the pond at the far corner of the pen. As I stared, it materialised into a fox staring in my direction. At only about 150m, it had clearly spotted me on the bank but was unsure of what I was.

After a brief staring contest, the fox turned back to stalking the ducks around the pond but didn’t offer a clear shot as it drifted behind a bramble bush at the edge of the water.

CLOSING IN

With the fox out of sight I had the opportunity to get into a better shooting position. Although the tripod would have been ideal for shooting up at the top edge of the pen, it wasn’t set up for a shot down along the bank.

With a bipod already fitted on the rifle, I chose to move along the back a little and shoot from the prone position. Watching through the thermal for the first sign of the fox appearing around the edge of the bramble bush, I quickly stalked forward 20m before going prone and lining up on the bush.

I could see all around the cover, so the fox had no way to go without giving me at least a fleeting opportunity. As luck would have it, it trotted confidently away from cover onto the track at the bottom of the valley, probably intending to head up the bank to a second pen further to my left.

I gave a quick shout of the tried and tested ‘Oi!’ and the fox stopped broadside to look my way.

THE SHOT

It didn’t pause for long, but my 75gr bullet was already on its way as it stepped forward, catching it mid-body but delivering devastation just the same. It dropped in its tracks.

Confident I had shot the guilty fox, I packed up and headed home, collecting a very dead dog fox on the way.

MORE VISITORS

The farmer, ever cautious, decided he would sit out the following night, just in case there was another fox. Somewhat to my surprise he shot a small vixen close to the pen. He also set a couple of fox traps near the pen and a few mornings later was rewarded by another vixen in one of them, showing just what a draw a pen full of pheasants can be.

Another call to arms came about a week later after the farmer spotted a fox happily tucking into one of his pheasants on the steep bank a few hundred yards from the pen. Conveniently it was only about 100yd from my shooting cabin, which I have on the hill to use as a covered shooting position when coaching clients.

THE CABIN AMBUSH

It’s only an old shipping container with more holes in it than a colander and more rust than my old Hilux. It has gradually been undergoing some serious renovation since the summer, with a new roof to keep out the rain, a shooting bench and some seating, as well as the start of some timber cladding to the outside.

I couldn’t ask for a more comfortable ambush point for any fox that dared to venture out onto the bank. To increase my chances I have a bait tube set up 110m from the cabin, which I regularly top up with all sorts of foxy goodies such as pigeons and rabbit guts.

THE FINAL FOX

With further piles of pheasant feathers spotted along the bank, it was clear that a fox was helping itself to birds and choosing to feast on them out in the open on the bank. With a fox spotted twice now on the same bank at first light, it was time to wait in ambush.

Getting up early one Saturday morning I headed for the farm well before first light. I parked up behind the cabin, opened up shop and sat at the bench to wait. It was a lovely still morning and I had with me my trusty .260 rifle. I felt confident that if a fox appeared anywhere along the bank, it would be in trouble.

Eventually day began to break and the first crow took flight across the valley, calling out to all who might listen.

Despite the shelter of the cabin I sat and shivered as the mornings had become noticeably colder, and I made a mental note to put my gloves back into the pockets of my shooting jacket.

There were a couple of hundred rabbits out all along the valley and I constantly found myself thinking I’d spotted a fox every time two rabbits sat close together or a hare ran up the bank. You always seem to play this game when waiting for foxes, yet when one does appear you know straight away what it is.

That was the case this morning when I saw the unmistakable movements of a fox trotting along the top fence line, rabbits dashing in every direction.

THE FINAL SHOT

I first spotted it 400yd away, but as it was heading in my direction I decided to let it come in to a more comfortable distance. As I expected, it made its way along the top edge of the bank before dropping down about 200yd from the cabin.

It might well have turned at the track halfway down and headed up towards the bait tube, but equally it could have dropped down into the valley out of sight, so I had to make a quick decision.

I was already watching the fox through the scope, so when it stopped to investigate something in the grass I decided to take the opportunity. Drawing a bead on its chest at 180yd I sent a 143gr morning spoiler that crumpled him up before rolling him a few yards down the bank.