Ed Ley-Wilson’s book sees him kayaking from Gourock to Kinlochbervie, including the east coast of Skye and down the east of the Western Isles from Tarbert on Harris to Castlebay on Barra. It is a fascinating account of a 56-day journey beset by the vagaries of Scottish weather, with many days of torrential rain, an almost incessant wind, seas that on some days were simply too dangerous to venture out and broken tent poles due to the wind. On one part of the trip, crossing from Luskentyre on Harris towards Lochmaddy on North Uist, he encounters treacherous seas and writes, ‘Out here you’re fully exposed, committed, and in my case, today, right on the edge of what I’m capable of and I feel very, very uncomfortable.’
I like how the author writes daily in a series of journals. This, and the descriptive writing, means that readers may feel as if they were part and parcel of the trip. Many of the chapters describe the wide variety of seabirds and mammals that are encountered, often at very close quarters. This includes two otters that were engaged in a dispute close to the kayak and appear to take no notice of the human on board. He is also visited by a female otter and her cub playing alongside the boat and, while crossing the Sound of Barra, a white-tailed eagle flies very low over his head.
The author either camps overnight or on some occasions manages to sleep in a bothy. Even then wildlife abounds, and he watches a pod of six Risso’s dolphins off Skye, watches and listens to playful seals and startles a herd of red deer hinds as he emerges from a bothy in the morning.
There are fascinating discussions in some chapters about subjects as diverse as the author’s view on hunting, the management in some cases of the Scottish uplands, how gannets know there are fish in the sea where they are diving, how they can see the fish underwater, and even ants and midges. He discusses holiday homes and second homes in the Highlands and Islands, how the buyers are pricing locals out of the market and how Scotland’s midges and fickle weather might be helping to limit this trend.
There are dozens of lovely colour photographs of the trip and they are almost an advert for VisitScotland. The daily weather is summarised in table form at the end, as is the author’s method of forecasting the weather and likely sea conditions.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading Ed Ley-Wilson’s adventures and can heartily recommend reading the book, though maybe not participating in a similar dangerous albeit exciting journey.
Kayaking the Sea Roads, Exploring the Scottish Highlands by Ed Ley-Wilson. Whittles Publishing, Dunbeath, Caithness, KW66EG. £16.99
Bruce Kendrick travels down through the Western Isles, visiting Lewis, Harris, North Uist, Benbecula, South Uist, Eriskay, Barra, Vatersay plus some of the smaller islands. Indeed, for good measure, he throws in visits to St Kilda. The author has intimate knowledge of these islands in the Atlantic as he has been a regular visitor for over 50 years. Since I have also visited most of these islands (regrettably not St Kilda) I could see that this was going to be a very interesting read. My initial thoughts were that the nature aspect would be very interesting but I wasn’t quite so sure about the art.
The Western Isles has a huge diversity of wildlife, especially of seabirds and waders. Many are seen, described and photographed by the author, including a vivid description of a merlin catching killing and eating a meadow pipit plus a potted natural history of one of the islands’ rarest birds, the red-necked phalarope. The author also watches whimbrel en route to the Arctic tundra to breed, raven, snipe, great skua, Arctic skua, golden eagle, corn bunting, puffins and many more.
Kendrick’s chapter on St Kilda is detailed, descriptive and fascinating, so much so that I almost feel I no longer need to visit and that I have a clear picture of this amazing group of giant rocks that have erupted from the ocean.
Considering I was sceptical that I would enjoy the art element, the way that art was introduced into the book was fascinating. The author visited and chatted to the various islanders who were producing ceramics, paintings, writing poetry and even building boats. The discussions were always delightful and interesting. He also visited the Museum and Arts Centre, Taigh Chearsabhagh in Lochmaddy, North Uist, a place I have visited often, not only for their displays of arts but for the delightful food they serve.
Bruce Kendrick is clearly an accomplished photographer and there are over 100 photos in the book depicting both the wildlife and the arts to be found on the Western Isles.
For those who have visited the Outer Hebrides this book will fondly remind them of their visit, and for those who have yet to visit, the authors descriptions and photographs will have you booking ferry tickets. Art and Nature in the Outer Hebrides is a lovely, relaxing read and I have no hesitation in recommending it.
Art and Nature in the Outer Hebrides by Bruce Kendrick. Whittles Publishing, Dunbeath, Caithness, KW66EG. £18.99
I have just read of a conviction by Hampshire Police of five men involved in hare coursing. The conviction was under new legislation, the Police, Crime, Sentencing and Courts Act 2022, which has created the new offences in England and Wales of trespass with intent to search for or to pursue hares with dogs, and being equipped for searching for or pursuing hares with dogs.
While in Scotland the Protection of Wild Mammals (Scotland) Act 2002 was far from easy to enforce due to its complexity, at least it had a sensible and workable definition of the term ‘hunt,’ which is to ‘search for or course.’ As far back as 2007 we put the term ‘to search for’ to the test in court. Here is an excerpt from my book, A Lone Furrow.
A brown hare, the coursers’ target mammal
Late one Saturday evening in early November an alert farmer near Brechin in Angus saw the beam of a spotlamp playing back and forth across one of his fields. From previous experience he knew that it would be men out after hares. He contacted the estate gamekeeper and the police, then set off to see if he could find what vehicle was involved and where it had gone. The area is a web of extremely narrow country roads but by good luck the gamekeeper spotted the beam in a field half a mile further on and reported the new location to the police. Officers had been in the area in any case and quickly homed in on the vehicle and arrested the men.
It was the next day that I learned of this incident and that the two men arrested, who also had a young boy with them, were a pair I’d had earlier dealings with in relation to another hare coursing incident. At that time I had named them ‘The Wee Man and The Big Man.’
On the Tuesday morning I discovered that the Wee Man and the Big Man’s luck had improved slightly. They did not appear in court from custody but were released before court. I made contact with the fiscal to ask if there was a problem. The fiscal said that she had been just about to telephone me to ask if I could look over the case as she wondered how we could prove it was hares and not rabbits (rabbits are not mammals for the purposes of the Protection of Wild Mammals Act) that Messrs Large and Small were after. This is often the sticking point in these cases and I undertook to re-interview the farmer and the gamekeeper to ensure that we could prove that there were no rabbits in the area.
The area where the two men had been lamping is all arable and is mostly used for growing wheat, barley and potatoes. Because of this specialisation most of the fields were bigger than average. In addition they were cultivated regularly; ideal for hares but no use for rabbits as they had long since got fed up of their burrows being ploughed up and disturbed and had moved onto woodland, rough pasture and any parts of the extremely scarce field margins that may have been suitable. I made a check of the fields in which the suspects had shown an interest and found no evidence of rabbits in any of them except a small part of the very last one the men had been seen at, where there were a few signs of rabbits emerging from woodland, though this was well away from the public road. I took a series of photographs and my statement complemented those of the farmer and the gamekeeper.
The trial of the Wee Man and the Big Man took place at Arbroath Sheriff Court in early April 2007. Because of other court matters the trial did not start until well after 11 a.m. and I thought we might manage two witnesses – the farmer and the gamekeeper – through the court before everyone adjourned for lunch at 1.00 p.m. Not to be. By the lunch recess the procurator fiscal, Sandy Mitchell, had just finished his examination of the farmer and the defence had yet to go. Since there were two accused there were two defence solicitors. I knew the trial would not finish that day.
There was a major surprise in the afternoon: the cross examination of the farmer only took 15 minutes! I had no idea who was defending but there are only be a handful of solicitors in Scotland who have a good grasp of wildlife law and I had a suspicion that none of those were in Arbroath Sheriff Court that day. The remaining witnesses were taken in chronological order, with the gamekeeper next, then the three police officers who had been involved in the stopping of the Wee Man’s car.
The farmer’s evidence was that he had watched a very powerful lamp being played systematically back and forth across his fields from a vehicle, had shortly after driven down the road, at the same time phoning the gamekeeper and had followed the vehicle that had been lamping for a short time before losing it. The gamekeeper’s evidence was that he had found the car just after the farmer had lost it, had followed it but had the powerful spotlamp directed at his face and had to fall back. He had contacted the police who stopped the car shortly after.
A hand lamp and battery pack
Evidence had been given by the police officers that when they stopped the car there was a powerful handlamp on the front passenger’s floorwell beside the Big Man, with a cable between the door and the body of the car and attached to the car battery. There was also a hand lamp and a battery pack in the car that would be ideal if the men had to go out on foot after a hare. There was a young boy in the back seat and there were two lurchers in the boot of the car. It was a hatchback and the parcel shelf was concealing the dogs from general view. The whole unit could aptly be described as a hare courser’s rig.
A lurcher dog used by hare coursers
For my part the trial was absolutely fascinating – if I leave aside the fact that I sat in the witness room of Arbroath Sheriff Court until 4.45 p.m. on the first day and a further half hour on the second day before I gave evidence.
Eventually I was led through the evidence in chief by the fiscal, which took about 40 minutes. I was initially asked to give an account of the ecology of the brown hare, then had to relate my search of the areas in which the lamp had been targeted, where I was able to say that apart from one very small corner where there was a wood with signs of rabbits emerging no other sign of the brown hare’s smaller lagomorph cousin existed. I was amused at one point when the fiscal asked me, obviously to rebut an earlier question from one of the defence agents, if the whole set-up with Little and Large could not have been to course rats and stoats. Since I couldn’t be in the court until it was time for my evidence I have no idea how this originated but the very thought of going after rats and stoats with a spotlight and two large lurchers was preposterous. My response was that if anyone believed that they would be extremely naive. After I said this I hoped that the sheriff wouldn’t think the comment was directed at him. I should maybe even have conceded that the two could have been after stoats as the inference from the question was that stoats were rodents, which of course they are not. Rodents, like rabbits, are not mammals for the purposes of the Act, though stoats would be.
The male solicitor appearing for the Big Man cross-examined me next. Through no fault of his own, his knowledge of wildlife was limited, which must have made his defence of this case extremely difficult. His main thrust was in relation to the breed of dogs used. I had not seen the dogs, though had been informed by the police officers that they were lurchers – greyhound-type dogs – so I could only speak in general terms. I was asked what my reaction would be if I was told that one was a chocolate labrador. The defence should never ask a question unless they know what the answer is, though I sympathised in this case, but my response was that it did not really matter as long as the second dog was a fast lurcher-type dog. One fast dog may well be sufficient. I also related another recent incident where a lurcher and a springer spaniel had been used in coursing. The spaniel had been very much an observer, much as a chocolate labrador would have been. ‘A springer spaniel is a gundog of course,’ said the defence solicitor, blissfully unaware that so is a chocolate labrador.
The lady solicitor was next and she was keen to know exactly where I had seen evidence of the rabbits, though when I told her she was unable to use it to any advantage. I explained the use of the large lamp to spot hares some distance away, and the small hand lamp and battery pack that could be used if the men had to set off on foot for a hare further up a field. She asked if there was easy access to the fields for the men and dogs, which there was through the many large gates that were open, then asked if access could be obtained other than through the gates. I explained that there was a drystone dyke on both sides of the narrow country road and that would be an obstacle that would pose little problem. That finished the questioning, but I didn’t know why the questioning finished at that particular point until during a short adjournment of the court a few minutes later I heard her asking the fiscal what a drystone dyke was!
At the end of the crown case there were four submissions – two by each defence solicitor – that there was no case to answer. Very briefly they were:
1. That the court was not entitled to presume that hares were the target unless all other animals had been excluded.
2. That there was no evidence to show that the Big Man was other than an innocent observer in the car as he was not driving, and it could not be shown that it was he (rather than the small boy who had not been charged) who was operating the lamp.
3. That there was no evidence to show that the dogs had been in the car at the time the lamp was being used to sweep the fields, as the farmer and the keeper who followed the car had not had it in continuous view. The dogs may therefore have been picked up after the event.
4. There was no evidence to show that either of the accused had the experience necessary to establish that the type of terrain they were scanning with their lamp was land suitable for hares but not rabbits.
With regard to the first submission the sheriff pointedly enquired if this included such small mammals as stoats and bats. With regard to the second submission, the sheriff thought it was highly unlikely that the Big Man had found himself an unwitting onlooker in a hare coursing expedition when one of the dogs crushed in to the boot was in fact his. In submission number three the sheriff clearly wondered where in the middle of the countryside in the dead of night the Wee Man and the Big Man might have been able to pick up their own dogs. Might they have been waiting at a bus stop? In the last submission the sheriff pointed out that the type of dogs in the boot of the car were consistent with coursing hares, not for chasing rabbits, where the dogs were much more likely to have been whippets or terriers as had been given in evidence by the gamekeeper and by me.
All four submissions of no case to answer were repelled and the trial continued with the final submissions by the fiscal and the two defence agents. The sheriff concluded that there was an element of doubt, ever so slight, that the Big Man had not been the operator of the spotlamp and gave him the benefit of that doubt with a verdict of Not Proven. I had earlier watched the Big Man biting his nails to the quick and I’m sure he was mightily relieved. I also heard him talking politics earlier, probably for my benefit as he knew I was in earshot. He said loudly and authoritatively to the Wee Man, ‘I’m going to vote Tory in the Scottish Elections as they’ll bring back that you’re allowed to go poaching.’ I’ve no doubt he meant hunting with dogs rather than poaching but I rather suspect he has no chance of either.
The Wee Man had a different fate. He was found guilty and was fined £300. The spotlamps were forfeit, which would add at least another £150 to the penalty. In addition the sheriff contemplated disqualifying the Wee Man from driving for using his vehicle in the commission of a crime but a plea by his defence that this would cause a problem with his nomadic lifestyle persuaded the sheriff to relent. This was the second time within a matter of a few months that the Wee Man had been threatened with disqualification. He is building up a horrendous list of coursing convictions and must surely be jailed the next time. You would think he would learn but he was heard to say as he left the court, ‘Well if that’s all you get for coursing I’ll be back out tomorrow.’ Bravado or stupidity? I think the latter and I’m sure he’ll be a customer again before too long.
This really was a landmark conviction. It was the first time in Scotland that anyone had been convicted of hunting wild mammals without either they or their dogs leaving the vehicle. The case rested on the legal definition of the term ‘hunt’ – to search for or to course. The Crown position that the sequence of events that had taken place constituted a search was not disputed, the defence argument being that the search had not been for hares. I found this most intriguing. I’ve already said that I enjoyed the trial (or at least the legal arguments at the end that I was privvy to). I know that the fiscal, Sandy Mitchell, enjoyed prosecuting the case and I have it on good authority that the sheriff thoroughly enjoyed it as well.
An excerpt from my book A Lone Furrow (£10). If you enjoyed this story and would like to read more, I sell most of my books myself. My books can be seen at https://wildlifedetective.wordpress.com/books/ Please email me on wildlifedetective@gmail.com and I will post out a signed copy.
The author, Hans Breuer, is a committed enthusiast in carnivorous tropical pitcher plants. His love of these plants is such that he and his family moved from their home in Taiwan to Borneo where there is an incredible diversity of these plants.
Hans, often along with his family, has many exciting adventures seeking out the natural wonders in Borneo’s forests but is aware of the serious risks to wildlife through logging and the capture of many animal species either for eating or for the pet trade. He specifically writes of the threat to pangolins.
The author has an encounter with an orang utan and watches millions of bats flying out of a cave at dusk in a continuous string estimated to be 30 miles long and consuming 9 tons of insects every night. He becomes somewhat of an expert and handling snakes but has a frightening encounter with a rare king cobra, whose venom is capable of killing an elephant.
Much of the book is about snakes, plants and insects, not the kinds of wildlife in which I have most interest. However, the book is written in such an absorbing and humorous way that readers will be glued to every word. I particularly like the author’s use of similes, which create a clear picture in the reader’s mind, an example being: ‘A row of small terrestrial orchids grew like scaled-down street lamps.’
Hans has included in the book many beautiful colour photographs depicting the various wildlife he has encountered. By the end of the book the reader may consider the title a bit of a misnomer. Hans may have started out as a greenhorn naturalist but he shows how much of an expert he really is. His style of writing really appealed to me and I’d thoroughly recommend this book.
A Greenhorn Naturalist in Borneo by Hans Breuer, Whittles Publishing Ltd., Dunbeath, Caithness, KW66EG. £18.99.
For reasons similar to those put forward by Police Scotland I have never been an advocate of giving more powers to the SSPCA to investigate wildlife crime. Their staff already have powers that relate to animals being cruelly treated or to live injured or trapped animals but their powers stop short of dealing with suspected offences when the victim is already dead.
If powers similar to those of Police Scotland were extended to SSPCA staff there would be confusion for the public in relation to whether to report a suspected wildlife crime to the police or to the SSPCA; there could be interference with an investigation already under way by the police; they don’t have sufficient staffing for large operations; they have no powers to arrest a suspect or take DNA or fingerprints; they don’t have the same forensic capabilities as the police; they are less accountable than the police and they are not governed by the Scottish Crime Recording Standards (SCRS). In addition they are already overstretched in their response to domestic animal welfare issues. Having said all that, the work that SSPCA staff currently carry out under the Animal Health and Welfare Act 2006 is admirable, especially in relation to puppy farming.
Having listened to the questioning of witnesses by the Rural Affairs and Islands Committee on 28th June, and having read the subsequent report, I see that the Scottish Government in consultation with the police has arrived at a compromise, which I must admit makes sense. In at least one past case SSPCA staff attended at an incident where a bird, still alive but injured, was caught in a trap set illegally. It was likely that the trap was one of several but the officers had no power to search for or take possession of any further traps and hand them over to the police. As a result, during a later police search, there was evidence that there had indeed been other traps but they had been removed.
In the words of Gillian Martin, the Minister for Energy and the Environment, “In case of any doubt, I make it clear that the police have primacy in investigating wildlife crime. The powers that we are giving to the SSPCA are for evidence gathering to assist the police in those investigations. It closes a loophole that has been talked about for many years now—indeed, the need for it is quite compelling. That is where we are coming from on that point.”
She later said, “In effect, what the SSPCA will be able to do, if it has already been called to an area and sees evidence of a wildlife crime, is that, as part of that call—which could be about something completely different—it can gather that evidence and supply it to the police.”
Hugh Dignon, Head of the Wildlife and Biodiversity Unit in the Scottish Government, added,“However, under the additional powers that we are proposing, the SSPCA will be subject to the establishment of a protocol with the police, as part of the conditionality of our agreeing those powers with the SSPCA. Therefore, the SSPCA will pursue criminal investigations in relation to any additional evidence that it gets under the new powers only with the police’s agreement.
“The police will remain the primary force for investigations. The SSPCA may seize evidence under the new powers, but it has to discuss with the police what to do with it. It does not mean that the SSPCA will automatically own that case.”
Hugh Dignon, addressing a question on concerns of health and safety, access to the police intelligence database and retaining primacy for the police, said, “We have looked at all of those concerns and think that the proposal that we have come up with addresses them. It will not involve issues of access to the police intelligence database, and it will not involve the SSPCA being anywhere it would not already have been under its existing powers. It means that the police will retain primacy and that people will not be able to ring up the SSPCA to ask it to go and investigate crimes that are outside its powers under the Animal Health and Welfare (Scotland) Act 2006.”
So unless the situation changes one way or another after a further consultation by the Scottish Government, by my interpretation of the report it seems that the new powers proposed for the SSPCA are minimal though helpful, and will not mean that the public can report wildlife crime incidents to the SSPCA unless there is a live trapped or injured animal. The powers will allow the SSPCA to seize evidence they find that relates to a criminal matter not the purpose of their investigation at the time and either hand that evidence over to the police to continue the investigation or at least liaise with the police for further guidance.
There is much on Twitter today about birds being caught in netting set at various premises to prevent birds nesting, roosting or fouling. There are three graphic photographs on the Twitter account of @CarlBovisNature. I’ll outline the position, as I see it, so far as legislation in Scotland could be used to deal with this. Though I’m quoting Scottish legislation, the provisions of the Animal Welfare Act 2006 relevant to England and Wales are basically the same and would be equally relevant.
The relevant legislation is the Animal Health and Welfare (Scotland) Act 2006. Section 19 of that Act deals with causing unnecessary suffering to a protected animal. A ‘protected animal’ is defined under section 17 as an animal
(a)of a kind which is commonly domesticated in the British Islands,
(b)under the control of man on a permanent or temporary basis, or
(c)not living in a wild state.
If a business puts up netting they should have a responsibility for any animal that becomes trapped in or trapped by the netting. I would contend that this trapped animal becomes under their control, thus falling into subsection (b). I would also contend that they have a moral and legal responsibility to release it, knowing that otherwise the only outcome for the animal is to suffer and die.
At section 19(2) a person who is responsible for an animal commits an offence if—
(a)the person causes the animal unnecessary suffering by an act or omission, and
(b)the person knew, or ought reasonably to have known, that the act or omission would have caused the suffering or be likely to do so.
In the case of the trapped birds in the photos the person responsible is likely to be the person in charge of the premises unless that responsibility has been delegated, and who should be monitoring the nets, knowing of their potential to trap and kill wildlife. Any person of reasonable intelligence will be aware that, for instance, a pigeon caught in a net will die of starvation, exhaustion, dehydration or attack by a predator if not released.
At section 19(4) the considerations to which regard is to be had in determining, for the purposes of subsections (1) to (3), whether suffering is unnecessary include—
(a)whether the suffering could reasonably have been avoided or reduced, (it could be reduced by regular checks of the netting, especially after a complaint has been made)
(b)whether the conduct concerned was in compliance with any relevant enactment or any relevant provisions of a licence or code of practice issued under an enactment, (not relevant)
(c)whether the conduct concerned was for a legitimate purpose, for example—
(i)the purpose of benefiting the animal, or (not relevant)
(ii)the purpose of protecting a person, property or another animal, (netting to protect a property but still an offence not to check for and release trapped wildlife)
(d)whether the suffering was proportionate to the purpose of the conduct concerned, (not proportionate if the animal is allowed to continue to suffer or die)
(e)whether the conduct concerned was in the circumstances that of a reasonably competent and humane person. (not humane)
Though general licences are not issued for netting, I see this as little different to the responsibility of a person using a live-catch trap, where there is a legal responsibility to check for animals caught at intervals of not less than 24 hours. I say little different, the difference of course being that the minute a pigeon or other bird gets caught in a net it begins to suffer, and the suffering gets worse the longer it struggles.
My advice to anyone witnessing trapped birds such as in the photos would be to report the matter to their local police wildlife crime officer.
I had a relatively short (3 hours) walk on the lower ground of Rottal Estate this morning. It was a lovely sunny day though there was still a chill in the wind. It was not a day for sitting around but it was a lovely day for walking. When I’m appreciating nature I always walk slowly; fast walking means that you miss interesting things, plus you may not be able to stop in time if you suddenly stumble upon something interesting, the subject takes fright and is off.
I walked down a hedgerow dividing a grass field and a last year’s stubble field. Every 20 yards I seemed to be in a new chaffinch territory, with the male bird singing loudly from the top of the hedge. A pair of greenfinches were also skulking in the hedge, the attraction being the first of several farmland feed bins that were suspended in the hedge. The flattened earth under the feeders were testimony to their use.
One of several bird feeders in the hedges
As I came to a small gap in the hedge I could see a pair of greylag geese at the far end of the grass field. I thought geese might have been on eggs by this time, though of course they could have an incomplete clutch somewhere.
The two picked pheasant eggs
I hope it doesn’t have the same outcome as the two picked pheasant eggs I later found, with carrion crows being the chief suspects. Pheasants will not have laid a complete clutch yet and they are also guilty early in the season of just dropping an egg anywhere so there will be plenty time yet for the owner (or owners) of the picked eggs to rear chicks.
Greylag geese
I walked up to one of several lochans on the estate. A hundred or so black-headed gull took off from the water at my arrival and watched me from a nearby hillock. There was no sign of nest-building (as there had been last year) but I was maybe just a week or so earlier. They were sharing the lochan with two pairs of teal, which took off and landed at the far end.
A bit further on I was pleased to see two grey partridges, the first I’ve seen for ages. Along with the hen harrier, they are my favourite birds. It’s a real pity they’ve almost gone from arable farmland because of lack of food and continual disturbance by implements. With stubbles being left unploughed on Rottal until late spring they should be able to find food, and there is plenty rough grass on the field edges for nesting.
Away from the hedges, the most common small birds were meadow pipits, skylarks and pied wagtails. It was great to see the number of lapwings and oystercatchers in the fields, and even a redshank. On most of the damper areas there were plenty of calling curlews. The call of the curlew is one of the most evocative sounds in the countryside, but it is yet another bird that is struggling. They’re certainly not struggling on Rottal and if they get peace from foxes, crows and gulls their productivity should be good. It was interesting that every time a common gull flew over the fields it was harried by lapwings. Even a stray lesser black-backed gull received the same treatment. I was pleased that I saw no carrion crows.
Meadow pipit
As I came over a crest in one of the fields of last year’s barley stubble a lapwing rose about 30 yards ahead of me. I marked the spot and sure enough the bird had come off a nest of four eggs, all with their pointed ends towards the centre of the nest. It’s the first lapwing nest I’ve seen for a while, but can remember in my teens a field loved by lapwings on Dupplin Estate near Perth where I found five nests as I crossed the field. There were lapwings everywhere and I wouldn’t have been surprised if there had been at least twenty nests in the field, roughly one for every acre of the field.
Lapwing nest with eggs
I was pleased to see that there were plenty healthy rabbits in all of these fields. Near the lapwing nest there was a rabbit nesting burrow, a short burrow that the doe digs to have her litter of four to seven young rabbits. The narrow entrance was worn smooth by the passage of the doe in and out, and maybe even the young rabbits if they had reached four weeks of age and had been venturing outside. It’s unfortunate that there are so many areas, certainly in Perthshire, where the rabbit population has been almost wiped out by viral haemorrhagic disease. Rabbits recovered after the deadly myxomatosis in the 1950s; lets hope that they can get some immunity from this latest plague. As I was looking at the rabbit burrow a common gull flew over my head directly towards the lapwing nest. It dipped momentarily in its flight as it passed the spot where the nest was. I thought it had spotted the well camouflaged eggs but thankfully it carried on.
Rabbit nesting burrow
I drove along to the Rottal Burn and walked down the side of the burn towards the River South Esk. There was a marked difference from my last visit a year earlier; a massive flood had washed sand and gravel down and scattered tons of it across the field. Parts of the area looked like sandy beaches and pebbly beaches at the seaside. Oystercatchers will now find that a good nesting area. There was still plenty gravel within the burn itself and the water was lovely and clear. It is ideal for spawning salmon that come up the South Esk but I doubt that any eggs or salmon fry would have survived that flood.
The result of the flood on the Rottal Burn
Further down the burn I came to the fishing hut. Between the hut and the river a red kite was flying eastwards, while a buzzard was circling and mewing loudly over some mature trees to my right. There were two swallows’ nests on the south facing side that were in very good condition considering they were last years’ nests. They’ll take very little repair work to make them suitable for nesting this year if swallows come back to them.
Swallow nest
The most interesting find of the day was at the door of the fishing hut. I noticed a large pile of bird droppings on the ground, and directly above, on a beam over the top of the door, there were scratch marks of a bird’s sharp talons. Looking downwards to the ground again there were over a dozen large grey furry pellets. I looked among them for any feathers that might have identified the species of bird using the beam as a roost but there were none.
Owl pellets
There were three main contenders: kestrel, tawny owl and barn owl. The pellets were too large for a kestrel so it was out of the equation. It’s more the type of place I’d expect a barn owl to roost rather than a tawny owl but I considered the height above sea level and wondered if it was beyond the barn owl’s range. I’m still tempted to say barn owl but I’m not sure. I’ll ask the estate owner, Dee, for his thoughts.
I had kept a close eye on the consultation to re-introduce the once indigenous European beaver to Scotland. The beaver was hunted to extinction in Britain in the sixteenth century and suffered a similar fate elsewhere in its European range. It’s yet another example of how man has interfered with and completely altered biodiversity and our natural heritage either for sport, greed or in ignorance. Proponents of European beavers claim that they are much less destructive than North American beavers and lead a different lifestyle. In Europe, in places where they remained in existence, or in the 13 countries to which they have been re-introduced, they are regarded as water engineers. They are claimed to benefit wildlife by building dams and creating wetlands and ponds that support a wide range of species. European beavers are alleged to regulate flooding and improve water quality as any silt coming down a river or stream is held behind their dam. In addition they benefit from and live happily alongside another species that is having an exceedingly hard time in Britain holding on to suitable habitat, the water vole: Ratty from Wind in the Willows.
Those who oppose their re-introduction say they will destroy salmon rivers, though this is countered by claims that they prefer slow-moving water rather than the much faster-flowing waters preferred by salmon. What may be a genuine complaint is that a dam may prevent salmon passing further upstream to spawn. There is also no doubt that beavers fell trees, which may be a negative factor in some cases but in other areas may be a benefit. In any event, despite a positive response for their return under controlled circumstances by Scottish Natural Heritage, the Scottish Government initially vetoed the return of the beaver to Britain, though a trial release began in Argyll in the spring of 2009. When the decision to release beavers was first knocked back, I was disappointed as I would love to have seen beavers back again in the environment they once shared with many other species before man’s interference. My wish came true sooner than I expected!
In November, 2006 I had a call from the proprietor of a trout fishery near Perth. He told me that over the previous few months – in fact since the summertime – several trees had been chopped down round his loch. At the beginning he thought it was local youths running amok with an axe and replicating George Washington’s demolition of the apple tree, though in this case the felled trees had mostly been willow and alder. As time went on he began to wonder if the culprit was a beaver, and consulted various internet sites to gain more knowledge of a beaver’s lifestyle. By the time he phoned me he was able to say that the internet photographs of the trees felled by beavers bore a striking similarity to those felled round his loch. I was intrigued but doubtful and agreed to meet the trout fishery owner and witness the evidence first-hand.
Evidence of the chisel-sharp teeth of a beaver
My visit left me in no doubt that the loch had a new inhabitant: one with chisel-sharp teeth and a flat tail used to clap against the water surface as a warning signal to its relatives of danger. About ten trees had been taken down round the lochside. Most were saplings but one in particular was about twelve inches in diameter. That really surprised me and was clear vindication of the axiom as busy as a beaver. The fishery owner had some concerns about the presence of a beaver in his fishery, the principal one being the difficulty of getting a large tree out of the loch once it had been felled. Casting a fly near to a toppled tree and hooking a large stocked trout which would immediately make a dash into the branches was not conducive to increasing the numbers of paying anglers. He could foresee a drop in profits.
In the meantime I was snapping away with my digital camera, at the back of my mind thinking I would email the photographs to Dr Andrew Kitchener, curator of mammals and birds at the Royal Museum of Scotland in Edinburgh, for absolute confirmation of the presence of a beaver. I suppose this was a belt and braces approach as I could clearly see the teeth marks on the trunk of the trees and the pile of multi-faceted wood chips beneath, lying like a pile of giant wooden gem stones. To my knowledge there was no other mammal that had a capacity to munch with that power. Andrew confirmed that it was a beaver and just to double-check emailed my photos to a friend in Norway, who concurred. The first wild beaver in the UK in Perthshire! Interesting. Even exciting. Nevertheless someone somewhere may well have committed an offence by allowing it to escape.
Within a couple of days I had a further call from the fishery owner: there were two beavers. He was in absolutely no doubt about this as both had been seen at the same time. This put a more positive slant on our investigation. It was much more likely now that if there were two beavers they had been brought to the fishery and released. For two beavers to escape – even from the same place and at the same time – and finish up at this fishery, would be unusual to say the least and anyone who believed that would be naive. If there were two beavers I had no doubt that someone wanted to kick-start a wild colony and also that the beavers would be male and female.
This was a difficult investigation as in reality the beavers could have originated anywhere. We did have three places in Tayside where European beavers were kept in large enclosures by private owners but asking them if they had lost any was completely different to asking someone who had two rabbits in a hutch or half a dozen budgies in an aviary if any had gone missing. Beavers are mainly nocturnal, secretive and for the most part, even when active, are underwater. Population statistics and breeding dynamics are not easily obtained.
In the meantime the fishery owner was keen to get rid of the beavers and I made contact with one of our local beaver-keepers, who volunteered to bring down a live-catch trap to assist. The trap was left open so that the beavers could enter and become familiar with it. In due course the safety catch would be taken off and the next time one of them entered the doors would drop and it would be again a captive beaver.
We almost never reached this stage. The fishery owner had begun to consider diversification into environmental interest. He had realised that the presence of beavers would not, as he had first thought, ruin his fishery, and he reckoned that their presence may provide a small additional income but more importantly could help to educate local young people about their environment, especially as the fishery already hosted an active badger sett, otters, kingfishers, herons and much more. He wondered about erecting a fence round the loch but was advised that the beavers would then be captive. If they were captive and he intended visitors to come and see them he would need to register them with Perth and Kinross Council and would require a zoo licence. Too much red tape put an end to this innovative vision.
How the fishery owner coped with the beavers was not a police matter though I allocated PC Doug Ogilvie, the divisional wildlife crime officer for that area, to monitor the situation. In addition there was some pressure from elsewhere to capture the beavers to at least determine whether they were the once-native European beaver or the more destructive North American beaver. There was also the question – especially if they were the latter species – that they may be carrying disease that could transmit to wildlife or even agricultural livestock here. They were an unknown, though hopefully benign, quantity.
I visited the fishery on several occasions hoping to catch a glimpse of the errant beaver. The elusive beastie never did appear, but the walks round the loch were well worthwhile. The highlight one morning was finding the evidence of a visit by an otter. Otter droppings, referred to as ‘spraints’ are black and oily. Those who have put their nose anywhere near may be surprised that the otter’s toilet has a rather sweet smell. They spraint regularly in the same place, marking their territory. I had found such a place, which was on a mossy covered boulder beside a ditch running from the loch to the nearby River Earn. This must be the favoured route of otters moving between the two stretches of water, and the nitrogen in the spraint and urine had killed and discoloured what should have been bright green moss. Like foxes, the otters depend on the scent from these marking posts to advertise their presence to visitors of the same species. The signal will be loud and clear. Our sense of smell is crude, a dimension that we have either lost or never truly developed. It is our loss that we can only guess at what the otter (or the fox) might be telling its rivals, or indeed prospective suitors.
The fishery beaver was trapped soon after this. All went quiet and I suspect it had been on its own. It is much more likely that, if two were thought to have been seen, they would have been otters. In the meantime there was an issue with an escaped beaver developing elsewhere in Perthshire.
In early January, 2007 I had a telephone call from a person who was concerned about wild boar roaming over woodlands in north-east Perthshire. He had seen them on frequent occasions and even if I did not see one he could show me evidence on the ground – spoor in native tracking terms – that could confirm their presence. I suddenly remembered a conversation I had with a gamekeeper who had been driving home one dark night in this area and encountered a wild boar running across the road in front of his car. I don’t often forget snippets of information I am given but this had been an exception. I had completely forgotten the wild boar story till this latest report stirred my ageing memory. ‘And there are beavers on the loose as well,’ my new informant assured me, ‘I can show you a tree that they have been chewing at, and a dam that they’ve made on the burn!’ The presence of beavers was almost a throw-away remark. It was something I was least expecting and one I could have well done without.
My helpful informant was willing to show me the evidence of escaped wild boar and escaped beavers but apparently had two very busy weeks ahead before he could do so. His report to me was simultaneous to a report from Scottish Natural Heritage of wild boar and beavers at the same location. This turned out to be the same incident and the same person reporting. He was not aware that the frolic in the wild which these species were enjoying could have constituted a crime and his first port of call had been SNH rather than the police. We have tried hard within Tayside Police to put the message about that wildlife crime should be reported to the police, who have the statutory enforcement role under the Wildlife and Countryside Act, but it was evident we had not yet reached everyone.
My informant met me on a date in early February and pointed me in the right direction to see evidence of the Tayside Two, boar and beaver. I saw plenty evidence of wild boar, first of all in the form of a grass field well rooted up by the snouts of the beasties in their search for bulbs, invertebrates and any other juicy morsels that lay under the healthy sward of grass. The gate of the field was open and the estate from which my informant stated the escapees had originated was just at the other side of the narrow country road.
As I was taking a few photographs I was enthralled by one of the earliest avian songsters – apart from the robin – and a real harbinger of Spring: the mistle thrush. Strangely I was not really aware of mistle thrushes until I was well into my twenties. Their song is not unlike the blackbird’s but instead of a full-flowing aria like the blackbird, the mistle thrush sings in short bursts. The first time I was aware of hearing one in full voice I was walking up a steep hill with a heavy game bag full of rabbits on my back and I thought that I was wheezing. It took me a while to realise that when I stopped walking the wheezing should also have abated, and only then I knew that the sound was from a different pair of lungs. I suppose this description does a disservice to the singing ability of the mistle thrush but the bird was probably about a quarter of a mile away. When heard close up, very often on a day when it is miserable with rain and all other birds are seeking shelter, the mistle thrush must surely lighten up the day of anyone who takes the time to listen, even if they don’t know the species that is giving them so much pleasure.
To digress further, we had a pair of mistle thrushes nested in the garden at home in 2005. I watched the female building a nest on the limb of an apple tree (not in a fork in the tree as text books suggest) while the male perched on top of a nearby larch tree singing for all he was worth and proclaiming his territory to birds of all other species, not just rival mistle thrushes. He showed no antagonism towards smaller birds but if he saw another member of the thrush family – a blackbird or a song thrush – or a bird he recognised as a predator such as a jackdaw, he was off his perch and viciously mobbing and scolding it, all the time making a loud churring call.
Eggs were laid in the nest and the female began to incubate. All seemed fine until one day I came home to find feathers scattered across the path between the lawn and one of the borders. I recognised two of the long white feathers as the outer feathers from a mistle thrush’s tail and realised my bird still sitting on the nest was now a single parent. I doubted it would cope on its own and was amazed every time I passed that I could still see the tip of the bill sticking up at one side of the nest and the end of the tail at the other. I was sure when the eggs hatched that the female could not collect food for the chicks and at the same time brood them to keep them sufficiently warm.
Within a few days I could see a bit more of the bird on the nest. I realised that the eggs had hatched and that the bird had to give a bit more space to the chicks by sitting higher in the nest. I was sure that within a few days all the chicks would be dead, but this was not the case. The valiant female mistle thrush managed to rear a single chick despite all the odds being stacked against her. The chick eventually fledged and on its first day out of the nest, the most vulnerable period before it is able to fly back to the safety of a tree, I watched it hopping around on the lawn. I was devastated in the morning when I came out of the house to find the chick lying dead on the lawn. It had been caught in the night by a cat, used as a plaything until it had died, and had been discarded once it no longer provided any fun. I have never liked cats, and I dislike cat owners who put their felines out at night with the milk bottles. And this latest incident strengthened my views.
Returning again to the wild boar hunt, there was ample evidence on the estate, and also on adjoining farms, that porcine ungulates were at large. Cloven hoof (or trotter) marks, droppings, freshly rooted areas and inverted U shapes under netting fences where the netting had been pushed up to create a pig-shaped runway all bore testament to their presence. The evidence extended across the estate and there must either have been a good number at large or a single one that was one helluva busy piggy. As busy as a piggy is not a common simile but that brings me neatly back to beavers. I found not one but two trees that bore the same chisel-teeth marks as I had earlier found at the trout fishery just south of Perth. There was also a dam across a burn near one of the trees. A beaver had indeed been busy! Too busy!
I intended to visit the estate owner – the owner of the beavers and wild boar – and make him aware of the law regarding allowing the escape of non-native species, but another incident took place before I could arrange my visit. I was staying overnight in a hotel prior to attending the Scottish Police Wildlife Crime Conference and ordered a morning newspaper. I was amazed to see a photograph depicting a beaver and the remains of 5 apple trees in an orchard. Just the stumps remained and I could easily see the handiwork as that of a beaver. This had taken place on a farm adjoining the estate in which I had an interest. The story was then covered on the news on television and on radio. I had to get moving.
I met the estate owner by arrangement a few days later. He is a really pleasant individual and makes no secret that he would like to see beavers and other formerly native species back in the wild. On the face of it he seemed to be making a good start at ensuring this took place. Had there been evidence the releases were deliberate then the action I took would have been substantially different. I had already discussed the issue with the Scottish Government, with Scottish Natural Heritage and with the specialist wildlife procurator fiscal in Tayside. All agreed with my decision that the estate owner should be warned; advised that he had to take all steps not just to round up the escapees but to ensure there were no further escapes.
The estate owner and I made our way round the estate and he was particularly proud to show me a new grid placed on the fence line of one of the beaver enclosures where the stream runs out. He had commissioned a local firm to install this grid but it was apparent that the employees had no idea of the size of beavers, maybe thinking they were the size of bears! A triangular gap at each side would easily allow beavers to escape and neither the contractors nor the owner had noticed this. This was the first issue for immediate attention.
We parked at the top of the beaver enclosure to then walk into the pond in the middle, but were confronted by a wild boar – a very large male – behind a pile of earth. Thankfully it seemed a canny sort of beast and just stood snorting at us as if it needed to be fed. Behind it lay the gate of a deer fence which looked as if it had been lifted in the air and off its wooden hinges by the boar’s strong snout. The owner told me that his wild boars had escaped during a gale on Hogmanay 2006, when a large number of trees were blown down, flattening and uprooting the security fencing. He explained that though he had managed to capture and contain the sows and their year-old litters, the boar, having tasted freedom, just could not now be secured in any enclosure. It had lifted off wooden gates, metal gates, and electric fencing now held no fear for it. We put the boar in the woodland and replaced the gate but I doubted it would stay there very long.
After I left the landowner I had a quiet walk around the estate – regrettably cut short as the rain was teeming down. Even though the estate was a bit run down and I suspected might not be making much profit, the habitat was as natural as you could find anywhere. I found the largest mixed bed of snowdrops and aconites that I have seen anywhere. It was an amazing mosaic of white and yellow and completely carpeted a chunk of very open mixed birch and alder woodland; a part that the wild boar had obviously not yet found. It was a tranquil spot and I tried to visualise it with shafts of bright sunlight coming through the trees, lighting up the woodland flowers rather than the blasts of almost horizontal rain that appeared to be making them indulge in a reluctant and un-coordinated dance as the heavy raindrops bounced off their petals.
I had a further thrill on one of the estate roads when I met the wandering boar again. It was at the side of the road and saw me before I saw it. It was walking towards me at a fairly brisk pace and I was glad that I was not far from my car. I took a series of photographs as it came towards me, though until I reached my car I never allowed the distance between us to decrease. My last photograph was when it was about 10 metres away. It had stopped by that time and was eyeing me up. Had I not met the boar earlier and had some confidence that it was more likely to be inquisitive rather than threatening I might well have been pretty frightened. In any event I was not taking any chances and jumped into my car. By the time I had closed the door it was within touching distance outside the door, with its back higher than the bottom level of my open window. It must have reached that point in a flash. I wondered how I or anyone else coming face to face with this beast without the safety of a nearby car might feel. A truly wild boar may well have faded quietly away into the woodland. The trouble with semi-domestic animals is that they have little fear of humans and this can in many cases make them extremely dangerous. I fervently hoped that on my next visit the boar would be safely enclosed. I really admired its character and independence though I suspected that its determination to remain a free spirit would bring its life to a premature end.
The wandering wild boar
The beaver story continued in December of 2007 with evidence of another beaver on the River Tay near to Dunkeld. A number of saplings on the riverbank had been cut down, the chisel marks of the extremely sharp teeth of the beaver being evident on the stumps. At the end of January in the following year there was yet more evidence on the banks of a small burn in Angus just on the Perthshire boundary. This was too far away for it to have been the same animal, though it may have been the one that had demolished the orchard the previous year. Evidence in the form of toppled saplings showed that the beaver was still a resident of this burn in February and efforts were put in hand to capture the animal by Edinburgh Zoo and my long-time friend Dr Gill Hartley from the Wildlife Management section of Science and Advice for Scottish Agriculture in Edinburgh. Plans were barely arranged and suitable cages sourced when a further beaver was spotted at Tentsmuir Forest, across the Firth of Tay into the neighbouring county of Fife. Since this was a coastal beauty spot regularly visited by large numbers of people the catching of this beaver took precedence.
Gill kept me up to date with progress, or in fact lack of progress in the first couple of weeks. The beaver had been visiting the trap but would not go in. It then did enter the cage but somehow had managed to get out again. Modifications were made and an infra-red camera was installed to see what was happening. The beaver was seen to be coming to the cage to feast on the apples left at the entrance but still seemed reluctant to enter. While it was making its mind up a dead beaver was found many miles away on the shoreline on the Black Isle in Easter Ross, an area policed by Northern Constabulary.
At last the Tentsmuir beaver succumbed to temptation, this time being held securely in the cage. One down but how many to go? In January 2009 the beaver on the River Tay was still leaving its trademark of gnawed saplings. In the following month a new beaver had appeared on the River Earn to the south-west of Perth. This one had been reported by the keeper, Bill McIntosh, another long-time friend, and I went with him to see the evidence for myself. There were two locations where the animal had been active. At the first, on a spit of land that would normally be covered by high water, there were a dozen or so willow saplings neatly taken down. I was impressed, but Bill told me that the next site, half a mile away as the crow flies but probably double that following the course of the river, was much more interesting.
The captured beaver
Indeed it was. I was flabbergasted at the sight of a huge beaver lodge. It was at the side of the main river and had an entrance coming directly from the river. It stood about 4 feet high, with each willow or alder branch that was part of its elaborate construction neatly chiselled at the bottom and interlinking with its neighbours. The cutting, dragging and intricate building must have taken many hours. Bill told me, ‘this one’s good, but there’s another one over here.’ We then walked across to the bank at the side of a field, crossing an area that is flooded regularly when the water rises. This second lodge may have been built for an escape during flooding; a holiday home if the main lodge nearer the river became waterlogged.
Although already a fan of beavers, I now knew that they really were incredible creatures. Their vegetarian diet means that they don’t adversely affect other wildlife; in fact the wetlands they create benefit a whole range of other creatures. Despite the fact that I was involved in the investigation to establish how the beavers came to be living free, the circumstances of which were reported for consideration of a prosecution in 2011, beavers most certainly deserve a place back among the wildlife of the UK.
I took a call later in February, this time about a beaver on a small ox-bow lake just off the River Isla near Coupar Angus in Perthshire. This was probably the one that had preferred the small burn on the Angus/Perthshire boundary the previous year since that waterway is a tributary of the Isla and about 6 miles away, not too long a swim for a beaver. I visited the site and there were freshly felled saplings, though no lodge. I passed all of the information to Gill, though we both realised that an itinerant beaver such as this would be very hard to catch.
Allow me to digress: it’s New Year’s day 2010 as I write this and want to capture the moment. We are still enduring 12 inches of snow that fell between Christmas and New Year and I’m barely able to type for looking out of the window. There are literally hundreds of birds in the garden, and they’re costing a small fortune in a variety of bird food, which of course I don’t grudge one bit. Most are greenfinches and chaffinches, with the greenfinches on the black sunflower seed feeders and the chaffinches scavenging below where I’ve shovelled away the snow to let them feed. They’re joined by an assortment of tits: great tits, blue tits and, in the larch trees, long-tailed tits. In summer we had the highest number of coal tits I have ever seen, but for some unknown reason they don’t seem to favour the garden in winter. Among the chaffinches there is a pair of bramblings, winter visitors from Scandinavia that look remarkably similar to chaffinches. Comparing the two, bramblings definitely give the appearance of a bird from cold climes. Their plumage is somehow distinctively wintry, with more speckled grey where the chaffinch is a summery orange. I make a similar visual comparison between the redwing and the song thrush; the fieldfare and the mistle thrush.
I’ve put some wheat on the path through the wood and this attracted a horde of wood pigeons, and some more timid, less pushy collared doves in the quieter periods. A pair of cock pheasants flew into the garden, one determinedly chasing the other, and so engrossed in their pugnacious avian conflict that they missed out on the wheat supply. Lastly, under a bower of honeysuckle that has kept the ground underneath clear of snow, I’ve treated some of the less gregarious birds, robins, dunnocks and wrens, to some grated cheese, mealworms and smaller seeds, with some half apples spread round in the lighter snow for blackbirds, a single mistle thrush and fieldfares. It’s a veritable treat of birdlife and well worth the effort of regularly replenishing their supply of lifesaving food.
On the following morning I was at the computer again, this time treated to some different avian visitors to the snow-covered garden. In addition to the usual birds, a great spotted woodpecker appeared. He slowly made his way up some of the larch trees looking for insects, that would probably be frozen to death if they were anywhere near the surface of the bark. He then flew across to another set of feeders not 10 metres from me, where he quickly grabbed a peanut and went back to a larch tree to break it up and swallow it. He knew exactly where the peanuts were and he had obviously been a visitor well before I saw him that day. I was surprised that I’d never seen a sparrowhawk in the garden for a while, since they are quite regular visitors; after all a garden-full of birds is their bird table. As I was thinking about it, a buzzard flew into the garden and perched on a tree above the main feeders. Had this been a sparrowhawk the birds would have been gone in an instant and would not have returned for at least half an hour. I was surprised that they showed little regard for the buzzard, probably realising that unless they were unfit and weak, the buzzard, not nearly as agile as a sparrowhawk, would be little threat to them.
The next day I was at work, but when I came home I saw that the sparrowhawk had visited. A fieldfare had been the victim and the raptor must have finished up with a full belly since there was very little left. The garden visitor I felt most pity for, though, was a heron. It landed on one of the larch trees on 9 January, two weeks exactly after the main fall of snow. The countryside had changed very little during that fortnight and we still had a foot of snow. Most of the burn running through the garden was frozen over after nights of frost ranging from zero to minus 15C and I wondered what the heron had done for food. It looked a bit of a sorry sight, sitting there hunched up, looking down at the window with its yellow-ringed eye and somehow redolent of a visitor in a smart grey suit who was not part of the celebration. It certainly wasn’t a guest of the party that the birds were having below; there was nothing that would have suited it. My wife and I watched it on and off for an hour, before it at last lifted its head, stretched out its massive wings and ponderously flapped off down the burn to see if there was any better hunting there. It was as remarkable in flight as it had been on the tree branch. Its long dagger bill pointing the way ahead, its snake-like neck curled into an S shape and its stilt-like legs stretched straight out behind it. There would be thousands of birds dying of starvation during this extreme cold spell. I hoped the heron wouldn’t be one of them.
Coming back again to beavers, the River Earn beaver had moved on during the spring and summer, though I got a call from Bill in mid-December 2009 to say that it had returned to what seemed to be its winter abode. The efforts will begin again to try to catch it. I was interested to listen to an update by Simon King on the release of the Knapdale, Argyllshire, beavers on the Autumnwatch Update programme in late December. Simon reported that they are doing extremely well and have built a lodge, the first beaver lodge to be built in the UK for 400 years.
The beaver lodge on the banks of the River Earn in Perthshire
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Postscript: A few years later more evidence came to light in relation to beavers either being released or escaping. We carried out an investigation and charged a person with allowing beavers to escape. A report was sent to the specialist procurator fiscal, who considered that there was little chance of a conviction due to the wording of the legislation. At that time, at section 14 of the Wildlife and Countryside Act 1981 the wording was that if any person releases or allows to escape into the wild an animal which (a) is of a kind which is not ordinarily resident in and is not a regular visitor to Great Britain in a wild state; or (b) is a hybrid of any animal of that kind, he shall be guilty of an offence. The stumbling block, as I recall, was the term ‘into the wild.’ Amendments under the Wildlife and Natural Environment (Scotland) Act 2011 changed the wording of the offence to ‘releases, or allows to escape from captivity, any animal to a place outwith its native range.’
The video widely shown in the media and social media the other day of members of the Avon Vale Hunt digging out a fox, showing it to a pack of hounds and encouraging the hounds to chase it was horrific. Had something like this occurred in nature, or even if someone had shot a fox with a high-powered rifle, I would have thought nothing of it but for grown men to do this for pleasure is beyond words. A second fox bolted from the den as the pack took off after the first one and I suspect, given how close the hounds were to both foxes, both would have been killed while running for their lives.
Fox photo courtesy of Bill McIntosh
There should be no problem for the police identifying those involved in this incident but I wondered what might be the best charge or charges in an incident of this type. I know little of the law in England and Wales but I thought I’d research the legislation to see if what I thought might be most relevant in Scotland would also apply in England and Wales.
The most relevant charge would be under the Hunting Act 2004, Section 1: A person commits an offence if he hunts a wild mammal with a dog, unless his hunting is exempt. The elements are present: a fox is a wild mammal and a person or persons encouraged it to be hunted by a dog (which includes more than one dog.) None of the exemptions in the Act apply.
This may not necessarily be the best charge, however, as the penalty needs to be considered. The maximum penalty under the Hunting Act 2004 is level 5, with, so far as I can see, no penalty of imprisonment. As an example of where penalties should be considered, in 2008, on the island of East Linga on the Shetland Isles, two men were seen clubbing seal pups to death. The local wildlife crime officer investigated and decided, rather than charge the men under the Conservation of Seals Act 1970 (a useless Act with a low monetary penalty and no imprisonment, thankfully now repealed and replaced by the Marine (Scotland) Act 2010) he’d charge them under the Wild Mammals (Protection Act) 1996. The offence under this Act is that if any person mutilates, kicks, beats, nails or otherwise impales, stabs, burns, stones, crushes, drowns, drags or asphyxiates any wild mammal with intent to inflict unnecessary suffering he shall be guilty of an offence. Further,it has a maximum fine of £5000 and/or six months imprisonment. It was a good decision; one of the accused pleaded not guilty, which was accepted by the court, the other was imprisoned for 80 days.
In the case of animal cruelty, the maximum penalty is now five years imprisonment so I had a look to see whether that legislation, the Animal Welfare Act 2004, might be relevant.
The first hurdle comes under Section2 – is a fox under the circumstance on the video a ‘protected animal?’ Part of the definition is that an animal is a ‘protected animal’ if it is under the control of man on a permanent or temporary basis. A fox is most certainly under the control of man if it is dug out from a den, held and restrained. At the very least the digging out of a fox and holding it in the very close proximity of a pack of hounds would most certainly qualify for a charge under Section 4 of the Act – unnecessary suffering – made much more serious by then releasing the already-terrified animal in the almost certain belief that it would be caught and killed by the hounds.
But there may be a better or additional charge under Section 8(1): that of causing an animal fight:
A person commits an offence if he—
(a)causes an animal fight to take place, or attempts to do so;
The definition of an animal fight is an occasion on which a protected animal is placed with an animal, or with a human, for the purpose of fighting, wrestling or baiting.
Is an incident such as was videoed stretching the definition a tad too far? Is it too far off the mark to consider that placed with could be dropping the fox almost beside hounds and that the definition could be extended to the ensuing pursuit, culminating in the fox (provided it is caught) fighting for its life? A conviction under this section would almost certainly result in a higher penalty. Further, if a court were to accept this as a valid charge, there is another offence at Section8(h) which relates to a person who keeps or trains an animal for use for in connection with an animal fight. Wouldn’t this be really interesting in relation to packs of hounds kept by hunts!
Whatever the outcome of the incident that was videoed it is a massive blow to alleged ‘trail hunting.’ It surely must hasten a revision by the Westminster Government of the Hunting Act, as has been done in Scotland, and finally lead to the demise of fox hunting.
With snow falling and forecast to last the whole morning there will be no gardening done today. Being housebound though is a good chance to repeat a blog from 2018 that relates to one of my favourite activities: evidence from tracks in the snow. Here is one of the more unusual hare coursing investigations as recounted in my book A Lone Furrow:
Fox tracks
In a Perthshire hare coursing escapade, with a participant I’ll call Mr Snowman, adverse weather conditions were no deterrent. On 4 January in 2008, after a heavy snowfall, a man local to the area was driving slowly and carefully along a narrow country road. He looked over the fence into a roadside field and saw a man walking a greyhound-type dog through the field. Just at this time three brown hares rose from the snow and ran off across the field. Mr Snowman now released his dog, which duly took off in pursuit of one of them.
The dog chased the hare across the field and the hare gained some ground by being able to get through the fence at the top of the field much more quickly than Mr Snowman’s dog. The witness continued along the road but as he rounded a bend the road was blocked by Mr Snowman’s 4WD car. He got out and shouted across the field to Mr Snowman, who politely enquired, ‘What the fuck do you want?’ before returning to his car. By this time the witness was using his mobile phone to contact the police, and received a tirade of curses from Mr Snowman.
Snowman moved his car, all the while anxiously looking up the field to see what had happened to his dog. The witness passed Mr Snowman’s car and continued on his way, but at that point, unusual for such a quiet single-track road, a man came walking down the road. This witness saw Mr Snowman in the field and heard him shouting, at first thinking he was calling to him but then realising when he saw the greyhound that he was calling on the dog. He also saw the farmer approaching through the fields on his tractor and realised then that Mr Snowman had been coursing hares.
As this witness approached Mr Snowman’s car, it coincided with the return of Snowman and dog. Mr Snowman tried to cover the rear number plate of the car with snow, all the time calling to his dog to get into the car. Snowman either didn’t seem capable of counting beyond one, or didn’t realise his car had number plates front and back. As the witness passed the car, he noted the number from the front number plate and saw the farmer arrive in his tractor.
Red squirrel tracks
The farmer told Mr Snowman he had no business chasing hares, and was subjected to a variety of threats for his trouble. This is just about standard with hare coursers, with the threats usually about returning and burning down a barn or opening gates to let stock on to the road. Occasionally blows are struck, with the hare courser often coming off second-best. In this case it didn’t come to that and Mr Snowman made his departure pretty quickly, knowing that the first witness had phoned the police.
Police officers attended and by following the man’s and the dog’s tracks, could read in the snow what had taken place. To a significant degree this corroborated what the first witness in the car saw. The second witness, on foot, could add other pieces to the jigsaw but did not see coursing taking place. The farmer did not want involved and refused to give a statement to the officers. Identification of Snowman, of prime importance in any investigation, came from the first man, who was able to pick him out from a set of twelve photographs.
Because the farmer had refused to speak up, the case was short of the level of evidence to convict if Mr Snowman denied being involved, which was more than likely. Mr Snowman was a career criminal and I was determined that he wouldn’t get away with this, so called on the farmer the next day. I could quite see why he didn’t want involved. Apart from any threats made, the farmer was a busy man and didn’t want to spend time hanging about a court. I explained that the others, who were virtual bystanders, had spoken up, and that it seemed only reasonable that the person on whose land this had taken place should stand up and be counted. I managed to convince the farmer that if he gave a statement to me of what he saw, then the case would be really solid and it was much more likely that a guilty plea would be entered. He took a wee bit of persuading but in the end I left with a statement completely backing up that of the witness in the car.
Rabbit tracks
Mr Snowman was charged with hare coursing and, as I suspected he would, pleaded guilty. His record determined that a jail sentence would be appropriate, though that was replaced with the alternative option to a court, that of a community payback order. Mr Snowman was sentenced to carry out 80 hours of community service. He’d missed an opportunity to work as Santa Claus but I’m sure there would still have been some snow to be cleared off pavements.
In another investigation in the snow, this time when I was a detective constable, my colleague, DC Martin Buchan, and I were day shift and the first job of the day was to carry out a scene of crime examination at a break-in to a club in Luncarty, a village about three miles north of Perth.
There were about two inches of snow on the ground and we could see where the person had left the premises after the break-in, crossed the public road onto the Perth to Inverness railway line and had started to walk towards Perth.
Cat tracks
While my colleague drove almost parallel to me, I followed the housebreaker’s tracks on the railway line for two and a half miles until, at a bridge over the public road, the thief left the railway line and started to walk on the pavement, still towards Perth.
The tracks led to the North Muirton housing scheme and became too difficult to follow since there was much more foot traffic on the pavements. Martin and I considered the most active criminals in that housing scheme and decided to check the common closes at their addresses to see if any wet footprints matched those I had been following.
We hit gold at the very first address, where the matching footprints led to the bottom right door. Our housebreaker answered the door, still wearing the same footwear, and was duly detained. He realised the game was up and we made a full recovery of the property stolen. I don’t particularly like snow, but sometimes it has its advantages.
See A Lone Furrow and other books on this blog. I sell most of my books myself. If you would like a signed copy contact me on wildlifedetective@gmail.com
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