The following blog has been written by an individual who is known to us. We know his employment history and we are aware of some of the incidents that he describes although we do not have the inside knowledge that he has. We have been aware of his dissatisfaction with his situation for some time and at one point suggested to him that he might like to go public. He said that he might ‘when the time was right’ and some weeks ago he let us know that the right time had arrived. We have not paid any money or offered any other inducements to him for his contribution. Some minor editing has taken place to remove details that might identify individuals, to remove offensive and racist language and to correct spelling and punctuation. We have also added footnotes to explain some terms used. Other than that this is his story in his own words.

I started working with a keeper when I was still at school. I used to go weekends to help him and it got that I’d bunk of in the week when things were busy to give him a hand. He taught me a lot and I learned fast. He was getting a bit old at that time and I could get round his snare and trap lines faster than he could. He taught me the basics of keeping and particularly trapping. He was a legend at that.

When I came to leave school I managed to get a post as an under keeper for a small estate in Wales. The money was poor and the living conditions horrible but it was a foot on the ladder and or nearly thirty years I did not look back. My head keeper on this estate was a lazy drunk who relied on his under keeper to do the work. He was nasty though so no one crossed him. Locals occasionally fell out with him but he could always bring them into line. My second month there a woman, she was a grockle¹ made a fuss about the local hunt letting the hounds run through her garden. He was a keen hunt supporter so he put out snares to catch her cat which he gutted and left on her door step. He said a fox had done it. It gave the hunt a big laugh. If local kids trespassed in the woods he’d give them a beating. His policy was catch them young then it’s easy to frighten them. Finally though his luck ran out when he caught a tink² lad and gave him a good thumping. The lad’s family were pretty angry and they came up one night and trashed the pens³ and gave him a bad kicking as he came home from the pub. He was in a bad way when we found him and with the extra work his injuries gave me and the risk of the tinks coming back I decided to move on.

For a few weeks I went to stay with a mate and did some casual work on the buildings but then I got lucky and landed another job in Wales. It was only part time on a small mixed shoot but it gave me some extra money and I was my own boss. I actually liked it there and although it didn’t pay enough to live on it was probably the happiest time of my life in keeping. I hunted down everything that might damage the game and took really good care of my birds. Hard work paid off and the shoot had a really good season. I began to be noticed in the borderlands between part time/amateur keeping and the professionals. I was in the pub one Saturday when a keeper I knew approached me and asked if I was interested in a full time job. He knew of a small estate that urgently needed a keeper. The catch was that it was in Scotland. A few weeks later I started my stint as a keeper in Scotland. Little did I know at the time that I would work there for almost all the rest of my time as a keeper.

The estate itself was not that great. It was largely family and friends shooting and so there was not the huge pressure to produce the huge number of birds that the big commercial shoots need. On those estates you work hard all the time and anyone who does not come up to the mark is out pretty fast. The main thing on the small family estates is maintaining tradition. The family and friends shoot is part of that but so also is the control over the local area that the estate has. Many o the older estates don’t have much money these days. Pay can be poor and conditions and housing not great but there is still the tradition of the laird as a man who rules the area and someone you don’t cross. The keeper can often act as an enforcer if folk get out of line. Locals are usually ok. They have been around for years and know their place but sometimes townies who have moved into the area need bringing into line. When they do the keeper can do that. Cats can be snared, kids scared and dogs shot when they worry livestock. That combined with the Coventry shoulder⁴ soon brings them into line or makes them leave. It is that tradition that drives these estates rather than the quality of the shooting. Of course good birds are valued but things are much easier than in the crazy pressure o the big shooting estates where numbers are everything and the slightest slip means you loose your job. I was married after a while and settled down to life as an estate keeper. The estate was small and the Laird acted as his own factor. Although money was always tight there was no question of having weddings in the big house or hosting parties of Yank tourists or tea as some estates do. Running the  not bad. Money however was short. Tips were thin and the house we lived in was in poor shape and repairs never happened. I had made good mates with a couple of keepers who worked on the big Highland commercial estates. I knew about the amazing conditions good money, good house, great car and also the huge tax free tips they got from wealthy shooting clients. When I got an offer to try or a job on one of those Jewels of shooting I jumped at it. We had started a family and the money and much bigger and better house was just what we needed.

I met the head keeper and was shown around. It was made clear that if I wanted the job I needed to follow the estate rules. They were ‘do as you’re told’ and ‘no names no pack drill’. I knew that the Head Keeper used to keep dogs for badgers so I was pretty clear how things would be. I had no concerns about that. Of course there are laws about snares, traps and so on that are always being tightened but to be honest no one in keeping or on the estates really bothers about them. They make their rules, we smile and nod and then get on with the job just as we always have done. If things go wrong the bosses will get the smart lawyers in to make sure you are safe. Everyone know that’s how it works and on the big commercial estates it runs like clockwork.

I made my position clear and after a brief interview with the shoot management team I got the job. I had arrived at one of the biggest and best shooting estates in Scotland. My career was really going places.

To be continued

 ¹A grockle is a local name for an incomer.  ²Derogatory name for travelling people. ³Wire compounds where game birds spend time before release for shooting. ⁴ Socially isolating people by not speaking to them or including them in local events.