Decision taken for sake of good ‘elf'

Some stalks do not end with a kill — but that may be simply because we choose not to pull the trigger, says Chris Dalton

- Chris Dalton

Stalking is never all about the kill. For me, it is being out in wild, often unspoiled places. It’s about solitude, immersing myself in the landscape and pitting my wits against a quarry that is constantly on the alert and whose very existence is wholly reliant on instinct and finely tuned senses — senses we have long since lost.

Returning home empty-handed takes nothing away from a few hours of peace where I am moving slowly and blending in, mostly just watching and listening.

If I am ever joined on a stalk, there becomes an expectation of success. If it is no longer just me and the hound, a sort of self-induced pressure begins to build. Extra company changes the dynamic of a stalk, and you feel it is almost your duty to find and cull your selected quarry.

I recently had the pleasure of testing out a range of stalking trousers (The best by a length, 19 May) and before the photoshoot I took the chance to have an hour at first light to try for a young buck.

It was early summer, just before sunrise in the southwest of Scotland and I was in a pretty, very quiet broadleaf woodland as the dawn chorus was reaching its peak. It is magical. You cannot fail to stand and listen. I don’t have the words to describe the atmosphere. It felt like a good deer morning and I was sure roe would be browsing in the cool of the morning.