The last hours of the 2021-2022 collaring season
Tl:dr - we collared a deer!
April 2022 (second last day of collaring)
Alarm set: 05:30. I dragged myself out of bed, slow and tired from a late finish the previous evening. At 06:30 we were in the car and headed to the hill. A brief stop at a lookout spot along the way showed no sign of any deer in the western part of the target darting area, or climbing out the other side of the coire (bowl). We continued, still hopeful some deer were tucked away waiting for us, either relaxing in the morning chill or soon to be crossing the steep-sided burn where we could be stationed hidden, lying in wait.
About half an hour after setting out, we got another look up at where we were headed. A small group of deer had reached the top of the ridge to the east of the coire and was headed out of range into the steeply sloped areas of the mountainside. I was expecting a lot more deer than that to be in the coire, so we pushed on hoping that that group was just the vanguard and the rest would still be dawdling behind.
A sweaty 2 hours later I emerged out of the burn as the hillside levelled out and the banks of the burn that had so far provided cover receded. By this point, I was pretty certain there were no deer left in the coire and we were going to be back at the cabin in time for a mid-morning coffee.
On the way back down, we ventured to the east into the undulating lumps and bumps that provided a small area where, with a lot of luck, there would be enough cover to get to within the necessary 30m of the deer for darting, and which was far enough away from the steep slopes to the south. As we walked eastward, into the wind, I could smell the distinctive odour of deer, but as we were walking towards the scent, a hind was walking towards the sound of our boots in the dry heather. As her inquisitive head popped up over the skyline and looked straight at us, we knew the game was up. We headed off the hill for our well-earned coffee and second breakfast.
During the middle of the day, the deer at this time of year are typically on high ground, occupying steep-sided slopes that are difficult to access and unsafe for darting. I therefore used this time for topping up any feed stations not visited in the morning or evening, and (importantly) eating. On this day, I popped out to feed our lowest feed station, a large fenced area just off the main hill. A small group of deer had taken to visiting it quite regularly for the fresh grass that was coming through and, of course, the feed that I had been putting out. I dumped several big piles of kibbled maize to keep the deer occupied through the night to give us a chance to get to them in the early morning.
As the afternoon wore on, it was time to set out to the evening feed station that had remained active despite the opening of the high ground as the meagre winter snow melted, and the new growth came through. This hide had been the site of a number of close shaves and disappointments in the season, even just in the last few days, so I was hopeful that that night would be the night.
Once the dart gun was loaded and ready, the wait was fairly relaxing, sitting comfortably and scanning the surrounding areas. As the sun sunk further behind the hills and the air got noticeably colder, I finally began to see deer popping up over the ridge from their daytime hangouts. I thought this was it: at least a couple of the many deer now coming into view would head over to get some extra food. I watched dozens of deer wander by, but though a couple looked toward the feed station, none approached. I was pushing the daylight, trying to maximise my chances, and finally a hind appeared, her calf hanging back waiting. She was nervous though and approached the feed trough as though it might spring to life and grab her at any moment. She skittered away from it with a warning call, but I don’t know what exactly triggered her bark. I sat in position, waiting for a shot to line up. She came back in, this time to one of the carefully placed piles of feed on the ground, exactly 20m away. I adjusted the dart gun to the right distance, aimed, and hesitated. The angle was bad, I was at risk of hitting her hip bone, which would make the dart bounce out without injecting her. She was on her own, so if she got a fright when she was hit she was more of a flight risk than if there were other deer around; I didn’t want to lose her in the rapidly fading light. And she was skinny - by far the poorest condition deer I had seen all winter; her hip bones stuck out at jagged angles and I could see her spine, all in sharp contrast to a pregnant belly. I put the dart gun down with a quiet sigh, tonight was not the night.
I got back to the cabin just before 11pm and with a wince I set my alarm for 5am.
30th of April (last day of darting)
My alarm went off at 5 am and I picked up my phone, squinting at it as I turned the alarm off. On the screen was a message from the estate’s manager, Joe, who had been out looking for foxes overnight. There were 8 deer in the fenced feed station and I should wake him up on my way there first thing. I was knocking on the window of his truck 20 minutes later and we headed off to dart a deer.
The deer were still there when we arrived and I waited for them to pass by where I was stationed. On the third pass I fired at just over 10 m, the dart stuck and I ducked behind the wall to wait for the drugs to take effect. Peeking out a few minutes later, I watched the deer go down and waited for her head to lower to the ground before scrambling over the deer fence to adjust her position so she could breathe easily and would not suffer from bloating. When Joe arrived he took over holding her in position while I proceeded to check her vitals, fit the collar and tag her, all whilst listening to her steady breathing.
The whole process from darting to release was over in less than an hour. Not far from where the dart had gone in, I injected the drug that would wake her up. I removed the cotton wool from her ears and continued to support her with the blindfold in place. Soon she started to show signs of coming around; her ears pricked and her head wasn’t so heavy in my hands, and it wasn’t long before it was time to release her. I removed the blindfold and backed away. From a discrete distance, I anxiously watched her recovery, and an hour after administering the reversal drug I finally left the area completely, breathing a sigh of relief.
Acknowledgements
I want to say a massive thank you to all of the people that helped me get to this point. In particular, vet Dr Neil Anderson who has been there from the beginning, helping to navigate the difficult task of getting close to deer and being responsible for my training to carry out the darting – without him this would not have been possible. The support of the estate has been critical, and a special thank you to Joe for the hours he’s put in, from days on the hill with the dart gun, to deer-proofing fences. Thank you as well to all the volunteers that came out in their free time with their veterinary expertise to help, thank you for all the hours you put in without the reward of a deer at the end. Particular thanks to Lisa who spent 2 months with me last year when we didn’t even get close!
Finally, thank you to all the backers on experiment.com that helped us meet our funding target to continue darting efforts – this has been a weight off my mind, and opened up possibilities for the future. Also thank you to the British Deer Society and the Association of Deer Management Groups for the additional funding to provide brand new GPS collars – I hope we get to use a few more of them!
Next steps
I will continue to monitor deer over the summer in my final(?) field season. During this time I will also be keeping an eye on predictable movement patterns and continued use of the feed stations, in the hope that we will have another opportunity for darting at the end of the summer when this year’s calves are less dependent on their mothers, and before the next breeding season starts. It has yet to be decided if we will continue into another winter of darting, this will be dependent on funding, and the availability of helpers and myself (who has a thesis to write at some point).
From a scientific perspective, more collared deer is better to strengthen our results, however even just this one deer has shown us that it is possible to successfully dart and anaesthetise a wild deer in these difficult conditions, it will confirm if the data is what we were expecting, and the data can be used to help inform and support the other datasets I’ve been collecting for the last couple of years.
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