Roe deer encounter

 British mammals are notoriously hard to see. British fauna is a mere shadow of that which it once was or that which exists in the rest of Europe. For the most part, gone are the wolves, bears, aurochs, lynx, and the like although there are returning species such as the beaver and the boar, and others are shrouded in the debate over other reintroductions. British mammals have learned to be elusive and are almost exclusively nocturnal. The most seen mammals are Grey Squirrels which as an invasive species have taken over our towns and cities. Mice and rats are often seen but perhaps the rabbit and fox can be counted as the most obvious of our wilder nature.

My trail camera work has shown me the wealth of mammal life all around us, but rarely have I seen these mammals in person. I can count the number of badgers, otters, weasels, stoats, and mink that I have seen each on a single hand. In recent years however the mill has allowed me to get to know a different species, the Roe Deer.

Many of my blog posts have explored these deer and their antics. There are several females and a couple of bucks. Over the last few years, they have successfully bred and this year one of the does gave birth to two fawns. I never saw these fawns in person their mother kept them too closely protected although I did watch them grow on the various video clips and photos from the trail cams. Over the past few months, I have seen the mother and the two fawns, now nearly the same size as her almost every time I have gone down.

The three deer browse in the thick reedy vegetation and they blend in perfectly. Normally I spook them, I never see them before they see me. Every time they bolt and bound off into thicker undergrowth and disappear. My stalking skills have never been very good, and I must confess my patience is too short to stakeout the meadow, there are too many exciting birds and sights to distract me.

This week however what I assumed was amazing fieldcraft was actually something quite different. On Christmas Eve I visited the mill to collect my cameras and I wanted to check on the whips I had planted. As I crossed the meadow area which is covered in brambles, long grasses, and the dried stems of nettles and loosestrife the doe jumped out in front of me. It bounded away from me flashing its white rump at me, holding my gaze, and then it stopped. Normally it would be off and keep going but this time it paused and looked back at me.

Animals and birds tend to be disturbed by eye contact. It triggers in them the flight condition and so whilst I paused stock still I avoided the does gaze. Carefully with my head down, I was able to remove my camera from its case, turn it on and bring it to my face. The doe stuttered a little and took a few steps further before stopping once more and fixing me with a steely glare. Perhaps she had decided to turn the predator-prey tables and was trying to make me flee?

I managed to get a couple of shots off, trying to focus between the vegetation before in what looked like exasperation she bounded off and with a final check to see if I was following bounded behind a bramble patch out of site. The meadow is riddled with animal tracks and the way was quite clear along the backwater where she had bounded but rather than follow her directly, I decided that if I cut round to the right side of the bramble bush and see if I could catch sight of her the other side.

Taking but a step or two to the right I was startled as a second and then a third leaped out of the undergrowth in front of me. The first was so close that I could nearly have reached out and stroked its back. In silence, they bounded after the doe and disappeared. Pulling myself together I moved around the brambles and in the distance saw the three of them running hell for leather into the distance.

Excited by my encounter it took a moment for the event to sink in and for the truth to reveal itself to me. My field craft had not calmed the doe and allowed her to stand patiently as I got my camera and took some shots, far from it she was playing me. What I had experienced is something many species do to distract predators. Although the two fawns were now nearly fully grown, she was still protecting them. Whilst they hunkered down stock still in the undergrowth practically invisible, she tried to distract me and lead me away from them. Her pausing and watching me was her checking to see if I was following, she was taunting me, begging me to follow, awkward me however hadn’t followed her path exactly, instead, I had deviated to the right and come too close to the hidden fawns. The minute I crossed that hidden boundary of comfort the fawns bolted and took themselves to safety.

This fact changes the context of the encounter to one of amazement of a wild animal becoming comfortable with my presence a moment of two souls meeting between a gaze to one tinged with fear and panic. The concern of a mother trying to lead a potential threat away from her young. Young that although nearly fully grown were still dear to her, forgive the pun. In nature, it is hard to equate maternal feelings and at what point that ends. We see it in wildlife documentaries when a cheetah cub is chased off to find a new territory or a bear cub is abandoned to find its own life whilst the mother mates again but, in this case, the doe is still intent on protecting her young.

Roe deer are the only deer to exhibit delayed implantation. The doe will have mated with one of the two local bucks back in July/August but the fertilised egg will not actually implant in the uterine wall until January, this is when I suspect this maternal instinct will fade although the three of them will stick together for a while until the new fawns are born in mid-May.