Close-up and personal

I dropped my companion off in the dark with clear instructions on how to find the high seat, which was just a couple of hundred yards away and covering a long ride that ran through the centre of the wood.

“I haven’t shot this wood since May, so there should be something there for you,” I whispered as he disappeared into the early-morning gloom. I picked him up some two-and-a-half hours later. I had not heard a shot but was not surprised to hear that he had indeed seen a muntjac buck.

“The problem was that it stepped out on to the ride 10 yards in front of the high seat and it saw me.” My friend had remained still while the buck eyeballed him, but lifted his