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AH elite
Yesterday’s tall and proud marshlands, had been flattened overnight. That would explain the exodus of game that we had witnessed the previous evening. Boots treading lightly on the forest floor, we had advanced towards a stand known as the “Buchensitz.” Chaos broke out to our right, as two red stag spikes pushed up a pair of roe deer. The stags sprang towards our frozen figures.
Later on, we chuckled at how Diana or fate, had put these ungulates straight onto our path, yet didn’t allow for a good shot opportunity. A few steps further, a dark form passed through my peripheral vision. In typical boar trot, the group of eight were gaining ground with determination. Yet again, despite hustling to intercept the now wary creatures, no chance at a safe shot presented itself.
We passed by the tree stand from which I had shot my first ever fallow deer, a calf, yesterday morning. Here, in the part of north-eastern Germany we were hunting, the wildlife population was booming, and hunting was necessary to contain it within the region’s carrying capacity. I was accompanying my boyfriend’s family, on a game management mission in a coveted area.
Days 1 and 2 featured fine weather. With Day 3 came the flood. Though dramatic to us, the locals weren’t as astonished. Just something you accept if you live that close to the sea. Much of the hunting territory was under water, roads were covered with aquatic vegetation, and the air smelled of salt and storm.
Vegetated sand dunes, woodland, marshland, bomb craters, and building ruins made for a thrilling landscape to pursue the local species. It was an enter at your own risk area, explosives from World War II may still exist. We stalked under the elevated nests of a cormorant colony. Sometimes, the reeds beside us would sway, and we wondered whether the wind was playing tricks on us, or if there were boar approaching. The sun warmed our chilled cheeks and cast its first rays upon the wreckage of old brick structures. It was a charming hunting area, and it was a privilege to be here.
Arriving at our designated meeting points some mornings, Philipp’s father Georg would have impressive game and stories to show and tell. Often, we had many encounters to enrich the conversation. The boar that got away, the fallow that didn’t, there was always plenty to talk about.
Philipp, who had hunted here previously, had warned me that the foxes here were quite tame. That reputation was an understatement. After a well placed shot, a hunter couldn’t wait too long to reach the animal. Within seconds of arriving at one fallow, Philipp and I were joined by one of these red rascals.
Knowing that a morsel might come his way during the field dressing, the fearless fox stuck within metres of us. On the drag out, he even followed in our footsteps. While amusing at first, it was astonishing how quickly predators lose their natural fear of man when not hunted in an area.
Then came the snow. Walking to our stand reminded me of scenes I had often experienced in Canada, but never in Germany. Flakes accumulated on our backpacks, our hats, our faces, but we were still having an amazing time. Though it was snowing very hard, there was no uncomfortable wind or harshness. The whiteout was absolutely silent. We felt like mountain lions, stalking our prey through freshly fallen powder.
One of the final dawns saw us creeping through a wooded section near the hunting territory’s boundary. Veering towards the left and towards the heart of the territory, we encountered a flooded and frozen-over section of ground. Bypassing it to the right, we were just approaching a small dam that was covered in tall grass, when a lone wild boar exploded out of the reeds. By the time the Blaser was shouldered, its back had disappeared behind the embankment. Scrambling up the barrier, we glassed the opposite side for the boar, but it had long gone, all that remained was the nest it had made for itself.
Continuing on, Philipp picked out a group of fallow deer feeding to our left. There were quite a few, which equated to many eyes on the lookout. They hadn’t noticed us yet though, so we crept up to the corner of a crumbling building, which I leaned against for added stability. First they trotted through the trees, then loped through a clearing. Philipp, who was standing twenty metres to my right, barked at the deer. He saw a calf stop, but it was already out of sight from where I was positioned. Next time.
That next time came really quickly, as we had just turned around and were rushing to get to our designated pick up spot on time. As per usual, we were guilty of being easily distracted, and didn’t meet the timeline to the minute. We were making miles so to say, when Philipp and I simultaneously stopped, and traced back a few steps. We’d both seen an unusual speck of brown out of the corner of our eyes. That’s when you know you’re in-tune with your hunting partner.
Sure enough, there stood a fallow, unaware of our presence. Soon thereafter, it was joined by a few companions. Working their way to the left in front of us, I could see that they were headed for an open lane in the trees, and positioned myself to intercept their travel plans.
Since it was late in the season, and many calves were already taken out of the herds, it was often difficult to assess the herd dynamics and get a shot. I could tell that the last animal was a calf though, and Philipp whistled for it to stop in the clearing. Ignoring our prompt, it continued moving, now at a fast pace. Just as it had cleared a tree, I squeezed off a shot, and added my second fallow deer to the morning’s success.
Our visit had coincided with the arrival of a storm surge. Now, as the waters receded, we too departed. Both the storm and we had left our mark on the region, and vice versa.
Author:
Savanna Koebisch
The German-Canadian Savanna Koebisch was only 12 weeks old when her parents took her hunting for the first time. Her childhood and youth were marked by outdoor and hunting adventures around the world, and hunting has become an integral part of her daily life. She recently moved from her home in Alberta to Bournemouth, UK to study chiropractic.
