A short Capercaillie story.

Back when I was about 20 or so, I was out hunting with one of my mothers English Pointers; Yara. My mother was a kilometer or so away with another dog, and we had agreed to meet up after about an hour.

Shortly after moving off, Yara and I came out on a small moor, which was spotted with lots of small, 1 meter high mounds (I'm sure there's an English term for these that I am not aware of). Yara stopped up in front of one such mound, and as I approached her from behind, she jumped straight over it. She was small enough to disappear from my sight for a few seconds, and then to my amazement, a full grown Capercaillie came walking and flapping out from behind the mound, with Yara teeth firmly attached to the birds ass! The bird was dragging the dog along, and the dog refused to let go!

Shooting was of course out of the question, so all I could do was drop my shotgun to the ground, and grab a hold of the bird by it's neck with one hand, and grab Yara by the scruff of her neck with the other! After a short battle, I was able to get Yara to release the birds ass (with a few feathers less than it originally had), and stood there with a big bird flapping like crazy. These birds are so large that it was hard to control it like that, and I had to quickly put it down on the ground with a knee on it's back to keep it down. It stopped flapping after a couple of minutes, and I was then able to transfer it so that I held it under my left arm, with my left hand connected to my belt. Thus, it's wings were held down, and I kept a hold of it's neck right below it's head with my right hand. This was important, as it kept trying to gouge me with it's large, sharp beak.

I held it like this for quite some time, maybe about 10 minutes, trying to figure out what to do next. Yara had calmed down by then, but was only a meter away, keeping a steady eye on her trophy. I considered doing the "sporting" thing, and letting it go while I dived for my shotgun. However, I decided this option was a bit too risky, as I might miss, and then nobody would believe me when I told them I (or rather Yara) had caught a live Capercaillie. It was getting more and more frisky, as it obviously grew impatient with being held under my arm. Eventually, I had no other choice but wring it's neck, and carry it back home.

Upon meeting up with my mother, she was very surprised and confused that I was carrying a Capercaillie with me. She hadn't heard a single shot.