Squirrels
and Rats
Reprinted from Air Rifle Hunting by John Darling
Squirrels
One of my favorites is
the grey squirrel. It's a handsome and tricky quarry -- rarely as easy
to hit as you hope, but often giving opportunities that really bring out
the marksman in you. I can think of several very satisfying shots I've
had at squirrels. One day I was so much on form that it seemed as though
a supernatural force was steering my shots. I think I was feeling
super-fit, or something, but the cross-hairs seemed to sit untrembling
on every mark I went for. It was great. I came across a squirrel at
extreme range. I was standing in a valley, and the little animal was
sitting at the top of a tall larch growing out of the bank. The squirrel
was out on a branch, its silvery tail looped like a handle on its back,
about a foot away from the trunk. It was a long, high shot. To make it
harder, a thin tracery of larch twigs hung between us. Mounting the
rifle, I found my mark. The squirrel was watching me, but through the
six-power scope I could also see twigs that would interfere with my
shot. Some, almost out of focus, were close to me. Others were right in
front of my mark.
I carefully shuffled to one side, keeping the squirrel in the sights
until I could see clear sky all the way through. I aimed high, well
aware that my pellet would have to pass half an inch under one twig if
it was to find its mark and not ricochet harmlessly into the tree. With
the cross-hairs about two inches above its eye, and without a sign of a
tremble, I softly squeezed the trigger. The squirrel leapt from its
branch, and sailed through the air, tumbling down the bank and landing
stone-dead at my feet in a patter of autumn leaves. I'd hit exactly
where I'd intended. I have pulled off some memorable shots at moving
targets. They're easy to miss by miles. If you're presented with a
squirrel racing through the trees swing past its nose, keep the
cross-hairs there, and when the moment looks right, push through a bit
faster and squeeze at about six inches past its whiskers, keeping
swinging.
Naturally, your own technique may differ from mine, but this is the way
I learned to shoot moving targets. The difference between shooting this
way and with a shotgun is that you have first to find a precise sight
picture with a rifle. Running squirrels rarely offer such an
opportunity. Shot-gun shooters use a tubeful of shot which they swing
like an extension of their right arm. All those dozens of pellets permit
much greater fluency of action. Squirrels have preferred feeding places,
and marked routes from these to their dreys. Some of these highways pass
over long branches which act as bridges between one mass of cover and
another. It is on these that you can take moving shots as the squirrel
scampers across in front of you, Be quick and decisive or your mark will
be gone.
Get it right, though, and the squirrel will be knocked flying
off the branch. As you pick it up and see the telltale bead of blood
staining the fur above its heart, you'll think to yourself 'Did I do
that?' Squirrels aren't popular with foresters because they have a
passion for nibbling at growing shoots. This can result in misshapen
mature trees, thus lowering the ultimate size and value of the crop. I
feel moved to remark that humans are incredibly arrogant to condemn a
wild creature simply because its mode of life clashes with the presumed
needs of man.
Nevertheless, foresters have quite a strong case because
the grey is not only an introduced species, but it has ousted the
smaller red squirrel from much of its natural habitat. The reason I hunt
squirrels is because the estate I shoot on has been given over almost
entirely to wildlife projects. Grey squirrels are curious animals and
like to meddle wherever they can. They also have a taste for the pupae
of one of Britain's rarest butterflies, the purple emperor. The grey is
quite capable of holding its own: though like all wild creatures, the
young are incredibly naive early in the autumn. You'll find it necessary
to wear full camouflage for squirrel shooting.
They have very sharp eyes
and often slip away before you're in range. At times they will sit
frozen on a branch as you walk past. You, too, need sharp eyes to pick
them out from the leaves and branches. Very often you'll see them
chasing each other through the boughs, allowing you to plan a stalk. Yet
from their high vantage point they can spot every movement beneath them,
and often there just isn't enough cover to allow you to get within
range. Much depends on how jumpy your squirrels are. Because at all the
conservation projects on the estate, the squirrels get hammered by my
friend and his twelve-bore. Nowadays they race away to the thickest yew
tree or belt of conifers like scalded cats. If squirrels don't feel as
persecuted as this, they'll often run to a tree, climb up about five
yards, then clamp to the trunk or a branch, if there isn't a hole or a
drey to shelter in.
As you walk around the trunk, you'll catch the sight of fur, then as you
creep into position for a shot, the squirrel will sidle further around
the trunk, probably climbing even higher. The trick is to place your
coat or something highly visible on the ground a few yards away from the
side of the tree you started from and hope that as you and the squirrel
play hide-and-seek around the trunk, it'll decide that the coat is more
threatening than you, allowing you to get it into your sights. However,
it doesn't often work like this, and you'll bc presented with plenty of
opportunities for vertical snap shooting. Remember that when you're
shooting vertically, the pull of gravity on the pellet is at right
angles to how it was when you zeroed the rifle, so the trajectory is
completely different. Aim slightly low. Better still, take a few
vertical shots at the undersides of dead branches and mark how the point
of impact differs from your point of zero. Squirrels spend a lot of time
in their dreys.
These are untidy clumps of leaves and branches in the
cleft of a tree or woven into the ivy. An old drey is a thin, skimpy
affair, with many of its leaves blown away by winds. Those that are in
use look new, with plenty of fresh leaves woven into the structure.
On occasions, I have chased squirrels out of their dreys. With so much
thick thatch around them, it sometimes takes four or five shots before
the occupants come scampering out on to the branches or go racing away
through the trees in search of a safer hole.
Often their reaction is to
dive out of the drey, run up the trunk few feet and clamp themselves to
the trunk while they check out the situation. Reload slowly or you'll be
spotted and it'll be back to games of hide-and-seek around the trunk
with lots of twigs to steer a telling shot through. I have now decided
that it isn't fair to shoot at dreys. It is possible to kill squirrel in
its bed, but the chances are higher that a wounded animal will emerge.
As it is the hunter's duty to avoid this at all costs, I prefer to let
them slumber undisturbed, biding my time for when the weather is right.
Squirrels like cheerful weather. They hibernate for parts of the winter,
but strong sun in even the thickest snow will bring out some to scratch
around for their buried stores of nuts.
The best of the shooting has to be in the autumn woods after the first
storms have thinned the leaves a bit. Go out on a fine, sunny morning
and you'll never find the woods more enchanting. I love to sec the
changing autumn colours, along with all the signs of game. These are
abundant after the breeding season. Squirrels are everywhere, too, and
in the sunshine they'll be foraging all over the forest floor and high
in their favorite trees. There's no need to chase them out of bed
on a morning like this. By mid-afternoon you should have quite a mixed
bag -- with squirrels, pigeons and maybe a magpie or jay - after walking
and stalking for several miles through magnificent scenery. You'll
probably end up far from home and feeling ravenously hungry, especially
if there's a nip of frost in the air. Perhaps I should have a more
serious mind, but I have to confess that one at the greatest attractions
that hunting holds for me is that it allows me to enjoy my hobby amid
lovely scenery and beautiful countryside.
Then, when I do get home, there's absolutely no doubt that I'll do full
justice to all those delicious smells that are wafting from the kitchen.
Maybe they'll be from the produce of other hunts. There's an important
point that has to be observed if you're going to shoot well in woodland
- you've got to hide your face, even if that means painting it with
blobs of camouflage make-up. Very often you will have to move about with
your face pointing skywards, searching for either the quarry or a useful
sight picture. But wild creatures feel uncomfortable when they see that
little pink moon shining up at them. By hiding it, you'll bc less likely
to spook your quarry, giving you longer to compose your sight picture
before squeezing off a shot.
Rats
I don't think that rats
are very lovable, even though people keep them as pets. Mind you, these
are nicely sanitized creatures compared to the wild brown rat. This
little fellow is linked to some of man's greatest moments of squalor,
like the Black Death and the trenches during World War One. Outbreaks of
bubonic plague are now rare, but rats still carry diseases, like tetanus
and Weil's syndrome, both of which can kill. Obviously you don't mess
with rats, but if one bites you see your doctor straight away. It is
these undesirable aspects that make people dislike rats so much. Even
though they're clean little animals, the diseases they carry are about
as appalling as the filthy places where they live - sewers, rubbish
dumps, and neglected areas. During the summer, rats spend quite a lot of
time in the fields, often in colonies along the banks of ditches. Then
they aren't easy to shoot because the cover is generally too long,
although a bit of pruning will improve your chances of a clear shot.
You should remember that rats are fair game to cats, owls, and foxes.
This is quite enough reason for them to be very shy at times. Once the
cover goes, many rats make tracks to farm buildings and similar
sheltered areas where they can spend the winter in dry, comfortable
conditions, with plenty of food close by. This migration starts soon
after harvest time, especially if heavy rains come early. You'll notice
the occasional specimen that has been flattened on the road. You don't
have to wait until this late in the year to get to grips with rats, lots
of them linger around farm buildings throughout the year. It is here
that they do most damage, especially to sackfuls of feed and seed, and
most farmers would prefer to be without them. Whether or not you'll be
allowed to shoot around the farmyard is something else again.
Some farmers may have visions of you blinding the cowman, causing hugely
expensive claims for damages. A lot depends on the farm, though. Modern
farm buildings and yards consist of areas of solid concrete. This denies
rats the cluttered corners and overgrown ditch banks where they build up
stable warrens. However, there are still plenty of scruffy,
old-fashioned farms around. When shooting rats around farm buildings,
you probably won't want a powerful rifle because of the danger of
ricochets in a confined space. This applies particularly when shooting
inside barns.
Rats live among the rafters as much as under the walls, so
frequently you will be presented with opportunities to swat them out of
the roof. If the gun is too powerful, you could end up smashing tiles.
Even worse, you may break a window. If broken glass falls among hay for
feed, you'll have to explain it to an angry farmer. First, you have to
find your stock of rats. Look for their runs, holes, droppings, and for
signs of foraging. The classic case of the nibbled sack, with corn
running out of the hole, is only too familiar to farmers everywhere.
Indeed, these animals are so indiscreet that they readily give away
their presence. You have to study them, though, just like any other wild
animal, if you're to have worthwhile shooting instead of a long, lonely
wait. They're pretty active by day and by night. It all depends on the
amount of disturbance they are subjected to, so obviously this has to be
borne in mind. However, rats become most active once the sun has set.
Get up on the bales of sweet-scented hay and wait for the action. Settle
yourself comfortably, for under these conditions you can ensure maximum
steadiness by shooting from the field target competitor's sitting
position, or by using a bale as a rest. Below you, in the pens, calves
are settling for the night, and the piglets have gone into a huddle in a
straw-filled corner. Apart from the occasional contented grunt or soft
rustling, all is quiet. A lone bulb hangs low from the rafters of this
ancient, flint barn. At its opposite end, just twenty yards away, the
feed milling machine lies silent in the cold glare at the lamp. Beside
it stands a wide, stone-walled bay. It's piled with barley - and rat
droppings. And there's the first. Keeping close to the wall, a dark
shape comes sidling out of the darkened corner, heading for the bay.
Through the scope you can see it scuttling a few feet, then stopping to
case the joint, its bright eyes and twitching whiskers reaching out for
signs of danger. Center the cross-hairs just below the ear and a little
in front. Quick now, before it makes the shelter of the milling machine,
take it at the next pause. There. It stops, and up comes its snout,
testing the air as you touch the trigger. The shot snatches it with a
loud plop, flinging it against the crumbling flint wall.
The back legs
twitch a couple of times, but it's all over. Moments later, a movement
from on top of the wall beside the bay catches your eye. There's another
one, sitting on the edge of the shadows in the corner, hunched up and
watching, its scaly tail drooping over the side of the wall. Through the
scope you see not one, but two rats, one partly hidden by the other, and
it looks like the front one is staring straight at you. Disconcerting
though it is, it's just coincidence. There's no way the big old critter
could detect you. Center the crosshairs between its eyes and squeeze
before it shuffles away. With a reflex leap it jumps into the bay and
sprawls amid the barley. At the same time there's a terrified shriek as
the other rat races along the wall and dives for one of the emergency
exits.
Don't break cover, though. Ten minutes later, another rat comes
out, this time from the same corner as the first one. Seeing the first
corpse, it stops and goes to investigate. It seems to be sniffing it
most intently. Through the scope you observe just how repulsive rats
really are - this one is lapping the blood of its fallen comrade - much
more nourishing than barley. Keep a steady bead and make sure it catches
the next shuttle to the great sewer in the sky. A friend in Wales has an
excellent way of shooting rats. He puts out a slab of rock on the edge
of a stream along which the rats go about their nightly business. He
baits the rock.
One night he. goes with a lamp and throws a soft beam on
to the rock. A rat jumps on to the rock, grabs a piece of food, and
jumps off again into the overhanging grass. The next one is much slower
and pays the price. Five minutes later another appears. It's a good
sport for two people on a winter's evening, and bags of a couple of
dozen or more are common. It trains you to shoot quickly. You can set up
the same type of baited trap in deserted buildings, rubbish tips and
other rat havens.
[ Source:
Martin's
Airgunning Homepage ]
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