The Cull

The gamekeeper looked over the moorland with a keen eye at the herd of deer grazing happily.  Of course he was not their owner, he had gone on a long journey, but he had been gone so long that the gamekeeper, whose name was Godred  Selfishman, had for some time come to see himself as the owner of the deer and as the best person to fashion the herd according to his own desire. He had forgotten that the owner had a special affinity with each individual deer.  He knew them all by name and they would come to him when he called. They were precious each one and woe betide anyone who would hurt any of his deer. Once Godred had known all this but over the years he had forgotten.

He looked at the herd in the valley eating grass and flicking their ears.  They were content, unsuspecting. He had told the neighbouring farmers, “There are too many deer; they are eating your crops.” Unlike most farmers these did not think for themselves, they did not remember that the deer had only occasionally eaten their crops and then only because Godred had forgotten to feed them and so when Godred spoke of a cull they agreed it was a good idea. “Pick off the old ones, first,” they said,  “And those three lame ones and then that funny looking one with the different coloured coat.”

  And so the day came when Godred took his gun to the top of the hill.  He took aim and fired and an elderly stag swayed and sank down.  Unfortunately Godred was not a good shot and the stag bellowed in pain.  Godred did not care, he was getting his way; his master plan was working. He aimed at the older ones but being a bad shot often hit the younger ones.  What was left of the herd panicked and ran to the shelter of the forest. The watching farmers were horrified at the scene of bloody devastation. This was not what they had wanted.  They had been tricked into complicity.

  The next day an email arrived in the gamekeeper’s office, “ It will be my greatest delight to see the deer, especially Old Twenty Point and Change Coat.” Godred began to tremble.

What would the owner do to that wicked gamekeeper?

He who has ears to hear let him hear.