Long range sniper

Red alert: optimistic shots at four or five hundred yards sometimes pay off.

I have had to adjust myself to carrying a rifle everywhere I go. The days when I visit the Chayne “unarmed” are the days when I am sure to encounter vermin in crowing abundance, and nothing is more galling than being unable to offer a shot to a black devil who clearly longs for nothing more than to see me frustrated.

Over the past few days, I have noticed crows beginning to pair up on the Chayne. Whereas before two crows would have been in the same vicinity, now they stick like glue to one another. I have even seen one cock crow performing his ghastly display ritual, drooping his head and wings and walking around the hen like a drunk. Installing the straining posts for the new fence, I keep my .243 close by my side at all times. The moor is so open that I have a 360 degree view across half a mile of hillside and ten minutes seldom goes by without an alarm.

I may not connect with many of those distant black specks, but I am of the opinion that a contented crow is a troublesome crow. A 75gr. hollowpoint whistling over their heads twice a week is sure to keep them on the edge of their seats, and as long as they’re looking over their greasy shoulders, they are not keeping an eye out for a grouse nest. The occasional hollow smack of a direct hit is vastly satisfying, even if there is little left of the body to show off…

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