OLD PORT BASSETS
10 September
Edited by Catherine Austen
catherine.austen@futurenet.com
@cfaustenl23
Old Port Bassets, Lachute Beagle Club, Quebec
HOW quickly a day's hunting can change. Andrew Marren's six couple had begun their first formal day of the season on an encouraging note, breaking into full cry almost as soon as we entered the covert, but within a few hundred yards this fizzled out into mere barking. Andrew's wife Milica (aka Millie) thought they might have treed a raccoon.
The ensuing hour consisted of an agreeable stroll through the autumn woods, soaking up the morning sun, photographing the bird life and discussing duck hunting with Roy Wilby and historical re-enactment with the charming Elizabeth Marren.
It was not hunting weather. The grass underfoot was dry as kindling and the air was hot and dead. The only sounds were the ceaseless chirruping of the crickets, the crisp scuffles of squirrels and chipmunks in the undergrowth, and the knock-knocking of little pied woodpeckers in the scarletfringed sumac.
Only when
