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‘Soon after the flock were on the fell-grass lambing commenced, when the more weakly of his command needed close attention. The sheep didn’t make things any easier by wandering to as remote positions as possible. Lambing-time lasted four weeks as a rule, and after that the summer grass had fully come. As the days began to be hot, we used to let our sheep wander into the deep dark ghylls and the narrow shadows of the boulders while we took a nap. Sometimes, instead of sleeping, we passed the time in trying to avenge ourselves of our natural foes. The raven and the fox particularly had levied toll of the weakest of our flocks at lambing-time, and now we had a chance.

‘I have heard people say that the raven does no harm to the flock, but amply eats up any dead bodies that may be lying on the fells. I have seen, and at that time knew many men who had seen the same thing, ravens descend from the great crags and attack newborn lambs. I say this while believing that hawks, magpies, and carrion crows do not do a fraction of harm to living sheep or lambs. But to talk about any or all of them clearing dead bodies away—it’s sheer nonsense. In three days the mountain beetles, tiny though they be, will clear every particle of flesh from a dead sheep, leaving merely a skeleton of bones and a few patches of wool. The raven is very plucky in defence of its nest, and more than once I have heard of men being attacked by them when after their nests. It’s exciting work clambering about the crags on the end of a thin rope. You will maybe have seen near fox tracks and earths short walls, and perhaps even loop-holed huts built of boulders. So rough are these that few save dalesfolk notice them. They are shelters for shooting from. At dawn and nightfall shepherds lie in wait in these places, and fire upon the foxes as they pass. Few of the shots are successful, owing to the poor light prevailing. The other ways of killing foxes include poison, traps, and digging them out of borrans. Many a score of fox-cubs are taken by the shepherds; they are worth ten shillings apiece to masters of foxhounds in the low country. I have downed many a fox by finding its benk (or place where it lies out in summer), and then getting the sheepdogs to chase it into the open past me.