Do Poles like to hunt? Hunting in Poland.

So now you are an authority on a subject you know nothing about.
No my friend, the deer is usually killed by wolves by the wolves tearing the guts out of the deer while it is alive.


Actually the wolves were planted in that area so nature had nothing to do with it.


Exactly so we have a hunting season on the wolves too to control the balance.
You Polish biologists here are golden. lmao !

I don't consider myself an authority, but I've seen enough wildlife documentaries to know a thing or two about how predators hunt and kill, no matter whether they are lions in Africa or wolves in Poland. They usually either go for the throat to cut the artery, brake the prey's neck or put the prey's nose in their mouth in order to suffocate it.


And that's the type of prey wolves are likely to kill quickly:

"With medium-sized prey, such as roe deer or sheep, wolves kill by biting the throat, severing nerve tracks and the carotid artery, thus causing the animal to die within a few seconds to a minute."

en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hunting_behavior_of_gray_wolves

So there goes your theory about "saving" the deer from being eaten alive.


Are there any limits on how many deer, wolves, etc. hunters can kill in the US?

And in what area were wolves "planted"? In Michigan?:

wolf.org/wolf-recovery-in-michigan/

"At one time, all of what is now Michigan was home to wolves. However, the pattern of habitat destruction, wolf persecution and extirpation by humans which occurred in most of the eastern United States, continued into Michigan with European settlers. A bounty was established in 1838, at a time when wolves were already nearly eliminated from the southern Lower Peninsula of the state."

@johnny reb
Yes JR I do have pictures of the swamp buck taken in Alanson about 150 yards off the Crooked River in an incredible old growth cedar swamp that has a great corn field on the other side of the swamp. The land is privately owned and I was given permission to use it for about ten years before the owner passed. I am sure you know the area right near 68 and 31. Opening day in 2016.

You want to discuss the UP? OK. The deer population is in decline for many reasons, mostly due to die off a few years ago when the winter was very hard, coupled with predation from wolves, coyote and bear in the spring. I hunt up near lake of the clouds so I know the area well.

For the record, my deer hunting was not just rifle season, but bow and black powder. I never shot anything other than a mature animal. I stopped bird hunting when my lab died. While you may be an expert in central Michigan, and I will give you that because I don't know your area as well, few knew better hunting than I did in the lower NW. I will say, I do not hunt anymore because I am just not into putting in all the real effort it takes to help maintain a healthy heard year-round, and I am not in Michigan enough to commit to it. But ethical, safe hunting of mature animals should never be looked down on. It is the most humane way to provide meat for a family. Hunting for trophies is simply abhorrent.

REALLY !


Really
These wolves must be different then.
They went for the guts first on this live MATURE deer.

youtube.com/watch?v=dRuxCMhvl84


How many video's do you want me to post of deer being eaten alive by wolves.
Better yet, google them yourself as there are pages of them.
I think I am all done here for the day. lol

Yeah... REALLY! lol I've seen it with my own eyes accompanied by the commentary of David Attenborough and the like.


I don't claim that it never happens that predators feed on prey that is still alive, I've also seen lions feeding on prey that was still breathing (not for long though, obviously).

As for that video you posted - those wolves weren't feeding on that deer yet - they were trying to kill it. They may have been afraid to go for the neck, because the deer could still attack them with it's antlers. Later you can't even see well what's happening, because the bushes obstruct the view. And once the deer is dead they don't even eat it, one goes away and lays down and the other just stands there. This is strange. I wouldn't say this is typical (at least judging by what I've seen).


Preferably more than that one, because I'm guessing that the wolves in that video were so cautious because there were only two of them and not the whole pack. Maybe also because of the size of the deer. I imagine they would go for the neck if it was a doe though.

So, johnny_reb, could you explain in what area wolves were "planted" in the US?

Did he mean planted by native Americans ??????

It seems those Americanos deliberately invade the POLISH thread and litter it with their local experiences so that later on they can have a chance to cry hysterically that Poles focus too much on America. hahahaha


Yes coz Poles are having their thread invaded by obtrusive Americans. You litter it with your US contribution and we, tactful people, reply and comment on what you write coz that is what good manners impose on cultural people in Poland.

@Paulina
JR is actually correct. In many States wolves died off in the 1800's and early 1900's due to growth in farming, reduction in habitat, and yes over hunting for fur. Since the 70's though many States have repopulated with transplanting wolves from other area's and other States. Michigan is one such State. Wolves are quite amazing creatures and there are several varieties. I have been lucky enough to see the Michigan Wolves while out hunting and Wisconsin Timberwolves while on a fishing trip. Very different animals.

Predators in general attack the weakest points of any animal. The neck is not a frequent area that's attacked. Most attacks come from behind, at the spine or at the anus because they are so vulnerable and lead to near instant disability. Bears can go for the neck but not many others outside of Africa.

Paw, why do we do that? Look at the result of your concentration on hunting in America. Huragain of ignorance, that's all. Concentrate on Poland

that way, you are tight about 50% of the time::::))))

It's as if he's saying that because desperate feral animals are obligate predators, it's OK for him to play at it for kicks.

After posting pictures of cute camels a couple of days ago I was out deep in the savannah al day yesterday and was served it. Baby camel, tough as anything despite being pressure cooked for about an hour. Not nice at all; I'd rather have had almost anything else. We brought the food with us (the meat came from a farmer) rather than tracking it down and killing it; this may be Africa, but no need for knives and viscera.

The point is though, that when some posters point out about the experience of hunting trips, the 'male bonding', the lying around by the campfire etc, you can do all that without shooting things. It was a nice day, and plenty of 'elation' and 'self-cleansing' without looking for something to pointlessly kill.

Many "hunters", like you joun, do just that.
We have guys coming to our hunting camp that never bring a gun with them.
Their gun is a deck of cards and their knife is a bottle of bourbon.


The rest of us don't "pointlessly kill" as we kill to enjoy some wild tasty meat.
If you prefer farm raised meat that is your option and if we enjoy wild meat then that is our option.
You will never find a hunter telling you that you are a killer of an innocent animal that you eat even though you support killing it by buying it.

Then they aren't hunters, are they...

Better that none of them bring a 'gun'. No civilian needs firearms.


You do...

The least attractive feature of those on the left is the way they love telling people what they don't need to do.... live and let live is like poison to them....

It's like vegans telling people there's no need for dairy millk since there are a bunch of ersatz products instead.

Marvin and Tammi said it best:

youtube.com/watch?v=6AkIFa_wvwU

You really have misunderstood.


I've no idea who they are however I'd guess that they aren't in this part of Africa where hunting only still happens out of either poverty, desperation or because they're trying to catch falcons to sell to rich Gulf Arabs who collect them.

As soon as decent meat shops started to open, people started using them. And some people (usually better educated people like my doctor and dentist) have adopted a vegetarian diet though they do eat fish.

However the poor and desperate are indulged; they may still hunt, gather and scavenge. Just as long as they don't adopt any mopre primitive habits than necessary.

Some people here say they get 'elated' or 'self-cleansed' by killing animals for pleasure, something that rightly shocks decent people. One of my old schoolteachers (RE, he was an ex-monk) used to get 'elated' and 'self-cleansed' by running down the High Street in the lunch hour with only a tee-shirt on, waving his bollocks at passers-by. They put him in a mental hospital eventually.

Yes. But to them killing is still a symbol of machismo which they would like to be endowed with, in order to get rid of their inferiority complexes. They aren`t able to realise it is a futile endeavour.....

Hunting traditions 1

In the past hunters played real horns to give signals to each other. Today they use metal hunting trumpets which are also called horns. However, the sound from such a metal horn isn`t as powerful as from a real one.

Listen to samples of hunting signals:

The call for the hunt

youtu.be/Fm7yyVBLL0k

End of the hunt

youtu.be/qrC08sjOj28

Wild boar!!

youtu.be/aeAO06u5Uhw

After almost a lifetime of hunting, I haven't been hunting for the last few years. Maybe the pandemic is at fault, but I think I'm just over it. What I realized I loved about hunting; wasn't the male bonding or the drinks and food, but how knackered I was when I got home. Sleep like a dead man, all the stresses and anxieties of daily life might as well take place in a parallel universe. So now I hike and camp a lot more. One thing I was not able to change, however, is the alcohol consumption. So if you join me on a hiking trip expect to work under double pressure :)

Pan Tadeusz epic poem by Mickiewicz contains a fragment about amazing horn play by an experienced hunter after the hunting party managed to kill a bear in Lithuanian forests:

Then the Seneschal reached into his belt
and pulled out from among the cartridges,
a bison horn, dappled, like a snake coiled.
With both hands, he held it to his parted
lips, puffing out his cheeks like a balloon, his eyes
bloodshot. Then his entire breath went
to his lungs by sucking in to half its size
his stomach-and a gale-like wind was sent
into the forest, music doubled by echo.
Hunters silenced, marveling at the might,
the pure tones and harmony he blew.
For the old man, within earshot and sight,
exhibited a legendary skill.
His song stirred oak grove and every tree,
as though into them the whole hunt he'd spill-
for his playing contained the hunt's history:
first the vigorous call, the reveille;
then whining yelps now that the dogs are baying;
then, full force, a harsh unyielding spree,
Like crackling thunder-the shots meant for the slaying. 58
He stopped blowing his horn-not letting go;
though no one knew, they were hearing an echo.
When the Seneschal again began to play,
the horn seemed to transform. At first it thickened,
taking some animal shape. Then to bay
piercingly like a wolf, it stretched and lengthened.
Then once again it was a bear's broad snout,
and then a buffalo bellowing out.
He stopped blowing his horn-not letting go;
though no one knew, they were hearing an echo.
Deep into the woods this masterpiece could reach,
repeated-oak to oak-and beech to beech.
When he blew more it seemed a hundredfold.
All sounds combined at once-the dogs set free,
outcries of anger, the fear of the bold
shooters, the hounds and beast trying to flee,
till the Seneschal raised on high his horn-
a hymn of triumph in the clouds was born.
He stopped blowing his horn-not letting go;
though no one knew, they were hearing an echo.
It seemed that every tree had its own horn,
conveying the whole song from choir to choir,
spreading deep into the woods, though borne
more soft, more pure, as though it wouldn't expire.
Then the Seneschal let go of his horn
and spread his arms; it fell to his belt
and swung. His face swollen and warm,
he raised his eyes, this inspiration felt,
as he tried hard to catch the dying notes,
as a thousand cheers rose up in a swarm.

The noise died down. All eyes turned to the bear-

Translated from Polish by Leonard Kress


That suggests you were an active hunter who broke through the jungle after his prey. While too many hunters stay passive at the base and wait until hounds maneuver the prey to them.

My longest time out was 5 days. This was in Kyrgyzstan, in the Aksai Raion, on the border with China in the Tien Shan. Two guys turned back on day 2, haha! Then the wife of one the shepherds that was hosting us in his yurt, fell sick, and so another guy left to take her down to civilization. In the end it was three guys. Two of us built rock shelters on one side of a mountain ridge, and laid down in wait. The other guy, on a horse, went around the mountain for close to half a day. We carried radios. Then, at one point, he radioed for us to expect the mountain goats. Two came up over the ridge, we got both.

Now that was a hunt.

I'm sure at some points of that hunt we were in China without knowing it.

Another hunt, in Kyrgyzstan. This time in the Issyk Kul region, with its beautiful alpine lake. Went hunting foxes and wolves, on SUVs with halogen lamps. Started at around midnight. At 1 AM saw a wolf, a guy leaned out the passenger window and took a shot. We heard the little "whooo, whooo" whimpers, so we knew we had it. Started chasing it in the jeep. But there were agricultural ditches every couple hundred meters, so we had to constantly stop, take detours, dismount and then find the spoor again. We tracked her by her blood until 5 am, and this whole time she just kept running. I'm assuming with half of her guts hanging out. When we finally found her she had made it back to her den, where her pups were. Everyone was not feeling super after this. The jaeger with us took some puppies. Maybe one of the reasons I don't like hunting anymore.

When she got to her den, she stretched out her paws, put her head on them and died.

I've read an interview with a Polish hunter who said that many hunters eventually give up hunting for that reason:

noizz.pl/big-stories/co-czuje-czlowiek-strzelajacy-do-zwierzecia-zapytalismy-o-to-milosnika-przyrody-ktory/g0xpsph.amp

He himself decided to change his gun for a photo camera. Weirdly enough, he was a vegetarian while he was still hunting (he talks about it in that interview too).


:((((((((((

😭💔

I enjoyed reading this, thank you Paulina. Everything is true. This is why I think there should be a middle ground between conservators and hunters. Nobody knows animals like we do. They go out on their little expeditions to collect "data", whereas we "become" the animal. We know its scents, its paths, its behaviors - we know how it dies. Eventually, however, I think every hunter comes to this point (unless he does it for food or fur).

This is why most of the experienced hunters that guide you on trips never hunt themselves. They don't need it. It's the process. To kill is easy, but to feel the animal like you were a wild boar yourself - that's where the joy is, and you feel like a little boy.

True.
Why are so many Russians happy to kill Ukrainian people instead of animals?

Much more rewarding than killing.


Utter madness.

Coming back to Mickiewicz`s epic poem

the previoius episode was about playing the hunting horn after the hunting party manages to kill a bear in Lithuanian forests:

Now, let`s read about bear hunt proper.:

First, the news of a bear leaving the wilderness reaches the gentry who become extremely agitated. It means that in 1811 bears must have become a hunting rarity in Lithuania:

Serving dishes were quietly passed around,
when suddenly the routine course of dinner
was interrupted by a crashing sound.
The forester, upset, rushed in the door
and faced the Judge and stood there dumbly panting
as the whole room turned toward the head table.
He unleashed words, ―:A bear, Milord" granting
all else to conjecture. The Judge was able
to surmise that a bear had slipped across
the river Nieman and now must be pursued.
With almost no discussion, a consensus
was reached; it was evident from the crude
gestures, clipped commands, tumult, confusion-
that hunters must deter this bear's intrusion.

The Judge issued orders: fetch the village
elder-―We need volunteers at daybreak.
A peasant with a spear need not engage
in road labor two days and also take
five days off from field work"
―Saddle my gray"
yelled the Official, and gallop to my estate.
We need my famous leaches to save the day,
My bulldogs called The Chief and his Mate.
Better yet, gag and tie them in a sack;
bring them on horseback for we must hurry."
―Vanka," shouted the Sheriff, searching the pack
for his Russian servant, ―You'll be sorry
if my Sanguszko blade has not been drawn
over the whetstone by morning! And fill
my belt with cartridges and balls."
―By dawn!"
became the one resounding phrase this chill
evening, as all shouted to get their gun
ready. The Sheriff repeated, ―Lead, lead-
I have molds in my bag."
―Now let us run
to rouse the sleeping priest out of his bed.
To the forest chapel, Mass will be offered
to the hunters' patron, Saint Hubert."
Silence followed the orders. Each in place
pondered his role and cast about searching
glances. It was to the Seneschal's face
that they were drawn, unanimously revealing
the expedition's need for a general-
they wished to hand to him the hunter's staff.
Sensing the will of his comrades, the Seneschal
rose up striking the bench, drawing from his cuff
a chain from which a watch, big as a pear
was suspended. ―Tomorrow-half-past four,
hunters as well as beaters will appear
at the forest chapel." Preparing war,
he headed straight for the forester's tent
to map out a strategy for the hunt.
Responding to commands for this battle,
soldiers dispersed throughout the large campground;
each cleaned his weapon, polished his saddle,
carefee, whistling, knowing sleep would be sound.

Translated from Polish by Leonard Kress

One of my acquaintances in the countryside is an avid hunter. This is his gallery.

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Let`s read now how the hunt ended - it took a surprising twist when the hunted bear became a hunter itself.

Hounds and hunters closed in; the bear turned back
and forth, till it spotted a path, unguarded,
and fled to the same field from where the track
had started-where the crowds had just departed,
where only the Seneschal and the Count,
and Tadeusz, remained-prepared to dismount.
The woods were thinner here, and branches crunched
as the bear flew out from the dark thicket,
like thunder from a cloud. The dogs soon bunched
around the bear which rose-as they clawed it
with their paws, the bear uprooted stumps,
tossing them like stones. Brandishing a tree,
it roared as the frightened hounds yelped and jumped;
then it charged the line of beaters viciously.
Only the Count and Tadeusz stood their ground,
fearlessly, flintlocks lowered like lightning rods
into the belly of cloud, dark and round-
until both men (such inexperienced lads!)
pulled their triggers. Double-barrels thundered out.
They missed! When the bear leaped, they grabbed a spear
with four arms and shouting aimed for its red snout
and rows of glistening teeth--but the bear
prepared to swat them with its clawed hand.

They paled from fright, then jumped to open land.
For one moment it seemed they could escape,
till the bear rose up to its full monstrous shape,
and once more stretched its paw to the flaxen head
of the Count. It might have ripped his skull
from his brains, and he surely would be dead,
if the Sheriff and Notary had not witnessed the dreadful
act. Gervazy ran to join from the field;
Father Robak followed, without a gun,
and three of them fired, as though it had been drilled.
The bear leapt like a startled hare, then stunned,
crashed down on the Count's head and summersaulted,
flinging its bloody load right by his feet-
the Count flew in the air but landed on the grass!
The bear still howled, its struggle only halted
when the Chief and his Mate attacked the carcass.

Translated from Polish by Leonard Kress

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