Kingdom of the reds

摘要

Stepping out of the bus in the half-light of an October morning, with rain spitting resentfully in my face, I was welcomed to Exmoor by the bovine roar of a stag rattling my eardrums. In one swift, Pavlovian movement, I jammed binoculars to my eyeballs. It seemed like the perfect start to a day watching the red deer rut. Seeing nothing but boggy moorland, however, I looked round and spotted a man in fatigues beside a 4WD, wearing a feather in his hat and sniggering like an elf who had just given thefairy queen a case of the farts.