At the end of the '70s, red foxes were fashionable. Prices of wild fox fur (out of breeding) were very high, often exceeding the average monthly salary. The "fox fever" started.

In mid-December hunt for hares was provided. Conditions were great. Ponowa - at night about 10 centimeters of snow fell, it was sunny, freezing -5 ° C and no wind. At the collection there were long-lost faces. He brought one of his colleagues as touts to his wife and daughter. Ladies were delighted with the winter landscape, so there was no end to "ohh" and "achom". At the end of the briefing, the hunter usually asked if there were any questions from the participants. "Are there foxes here"? - the older woman asked. Everyone burst out laughing. Amused company began to occupy positions on the line of hunters, and beaters with tractor and trailer went to set up at the exit stands.

The first ride was spectacular, because the hares were a lot, but the effects were poor. Frost and snow creaking under the shoes caused the hares to rise far ahead of the line of beaters and most of them emerged from the sides of the runner's litter. Practically only colleagues who have positions on movable plugs shot.

The second litter began similarly. Suddenly from the side of the cave we heard a loud scream - "fox, note fox". Our ladies shouted loudest. In fact, from a distance I saw a "redhead" who disappeared after a while in the lowering of the terrain extending towards the position on which their husband and father were positioned in one person. . He froze and tried to hide behind the miserable bush. Time flowed, the chase was getting closer.

At one point I saw a red streak in the snow and heard shots. After the shots, the fox came back and disappeared after the collapse of the area. Our colleague shot from under the bush. Now he stood erect, staring ahead, holding the recharged weapon at the ready. I heard a signal forbidding shots in a litter.

At the same time, our ladies broke from the line of beaters and started running towards the hole where the fox disappeared, waving the sticks carried by them. After a while, it was evident that they were waving these clubs, taking off as it later turned out to be a deadly wounded fox. In a moment, a boy walking beside him lifted a dead "redhead" up. For a moment I thought that in a moment between our Amazons, the fight for a fox would start and they would start to pummel each other. We started to make fun of our friend, that to hunt a fox I need a lady's assistance. Ladies liked hunting so much that later, especially when the weather was nice, we saw them more often on our winter harvests.

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From the perspective of 43 years of hunting, it is nice to reminisce about old adventures. I would like to share these memories with younger age club colleagues who have never hunted in Poland, and all those whose hunting subjects are interested.

Darz Bór