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Hunt sabs: British wildlife’s first line of defence
A day in the field seeing direct action in defence of wildlife first hand gave DAWN EVANS hope for the desperate fight to save biodiversity
'The sabs leapt into action. We drove down the country roads with assured confidence to various locations where, owing to their intimate knowledge of the terrain, the sabs knew the hunt was likely to head for.'

THE Cop15 UN Biodiversity Summit, billed as the last chance for the world’s ecosystems to be saved, is currently taking place in Montreal, running from December 7-19.

The summit’s statement of intent reads: “Governments from around the world will come together to agree on a new set of goals to guide global action…to halt and reverse nature loss.”

That is the aim — but shocking UN statistics reveal that over the last 40 years there has been over 70 per cent decline in wildlife globally, and scientists say that a million species are now at risk of dying out. Britain is among the bottom 10 per cent of the most nature-depleted countries with one in seven species at risk of extinction.

With these alarming warnings playing on my mind, I was recently privileged to experience first hand the rarely publicised actions of small groups of people dedicated to trying to halt the illegal terrorising and slaughtering of wild animals for sport here in Britain.

I had my first-ever experience of sabotaging an illegal fox hunt with our local anti-hunt group the West Cornwall Hunt Saboteurs. Or at least, I tagged along as a somewhat naive observer.

My immediate impression was that these people really know what they are doing. It was a professional, well-planned, almost military exercise. By 10am six of us were sitting in a vehicle looking toward some distant corrugated farmyard sheds, where the sabs had received a tip-off that the day’s hunt would set off from.

I was aware that another car with four more sabs was parked in a different location overlooking the same farmyard. Binoculars and walkie-talkies were in constant use.

Suddenly the call went out, and the walkie-talkies vibrated with urgent voices. The hunters, adorned in their traditional, very visible, red hunting jackets, were setting off on horseback accompanied by their pack of deliberately underfed dogs.

The sabs leapt into action. We drove down the country roads with assured confidence to various locations where, owing to their intimate knowledge of the terrain, the sabs knew the hunt was likely to head for.

Pairs of sabs were dropped off and dispatched at the entry point of assorted footpaths which crisscross the hunting area — sabs avoid trespassing if possible. They carry traditional hunting horns and citronella spray, and listen attentively to the sounds emanating from the landscape, they are particularly interested in the noise coming from the pack of hounds.

When the dogs get loud and excited it is an indication that they have picked up the scent of a fox, or possibly a deer, and are giving chase. That is when the sabs’ hunting horns come into play. They blow them, whilst also yelling commands at the hounds in an attempt to confuse and disperse them, which in turn diverts the horse-mounted hunters from their quarry.

That tends to elicit annoyance from the hunters as they try to round up the pack. While that sideshow takes place, the sabs use the opportunity to spray the area with citronella in order to mask the scent of the wild animal.

As it was my very first outing with the local sab team, I limited myself to observing and trying not to get in the way. It was a bizarre feeling of being a child watching skilful adults doing their stuff.

As I continued watching the proceedings unfold, I became aware of a movement in the undergrowth about fifty yards ahead of me, and yes there it was. I was honoured to see the most beautiful, large reddish fox suddenly shoot out of the undergrowth near where the sabs were spraying, they immediately ceased their spraying activities and adopted a low crouching posture so as not to panic the creature and to allow it get away to safety. I do not mind admitting that at that point I welled up.

It is worth noting at this point that the Crown Prosecution Service interprets the 2004 Hunting Act in the following statement (taken from the CPS website): “The Act... makes clear that [illegal] hunting with dogs includes engaging alone or participating with others in the pursuit of a wild mammal where a dog is used in that pursuit.”

So, there was no doubt as I watched multiple hounds being deliberately released into a wooded area and egged on by people on horseback, that what I was witnessing was an illegal act.
 
But the sabs’ work was not yet complete. We spent at least another hour driving around to known hunting locations to make sure that the hunt had not relocated to continue their activities elsewhere. Not until the sabs were absolutely satisfied that the hunters had called it a day did we finally gather to share coffee, sandwiches and stories.

It was a great privilege to witness and be a part of this extraordinary activity. The hunt saboteurs are very impressive people, they are committed, competent professionals, they know the Hunting Act backwards and are not afraid to quote it at the hunters in their attempt to deter them from breaking the law and illegally harming wildlife.

They know every footpath, farm, and field for miles around, as well as all the names and identities of regular hunters.

“Biodiversity is the living fabric of our planet. It underpins human wellbeing in the present and in the future, and its rapid decline threatens nature and people alike,” the Convention on Biological Diversity’s report recently stated. And yet the slaughter of our wildlife for entertainment, carried out in the name of rural tradition, continues, and the weak application of the law is doing little to prevent it.

The hunt saboteurs are British wildlife’s front-line defence. If I was a hunter; I think I would have the wit to realise that I had met my nemesis and would just pack it in — permanently. The sabs freely and willingly give their time to protecting what precious, diminishing wildlife we still have. They give me hope.

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