In March many keepers are worried by hare poachers. To lose a hare by
poaching during the shooting season is bad enough, but to lose one of
those left for stock is a calamity to the keeper--though to the poacher
a hare means a meal for his family, or a week's supply of beer. The
chances are ten to one that a hare snared in March will be a doe--for
the does run pursued by a pack of bucks, and so go first into the
snare. Hare-poaching would be a matter of less concern to the keeper
if the buck hares were always taken, for he could often spare a few,
as they will race does to the point of utter exhaustion or death. At
rutting times the poacher's task is easy. He selects three or four runs
which, from their well-used appearance, are promising, then slips down
his snares of brass wire, dulled by exposure to smoke to be the less
easily seen by hare or keeper. The poacher chooses runs close together,
and should he be a man who goes to work, prefers that they shall be
near his line of march, so that he may keep an eye on the snares
without stepping out of his lawful path.
Slouching along, with a lie ever ready on his lips in case he should
meet a keeper, he can see when a hare is caught merely by moving his
eyes, and without turning his head. And if a hare is caught, he will
pass on his way unconcernedly, returning without a sign. Meantime his
mind has been scheming out the best way to take possession. Probably
he will wait for night and darkness--or, instead of going to work the
next day, he may devote a large part of it to waiting for the chance
of a clear coast, so that he may fetch the hare in broad daylight. But
give the cunning poacher the smallest hint that the keeper knows about
his snares and he will leave them alone altogether. He will only visit
his snares when he has no reason to suspect that a keeper has heard of
them--otherwise the keeper may be watching to "put a stop to these here
little games."
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