HUNTING - In the hunt

Hunting on horse back with hounds is not all about killing, rather it's the sense of camaraderie, seeing breath-taking scenery, jumping challenging fences and the surge of adrenaline. Reporter Kristin Edge saddles up and heads out with the baying hounds and rides with members of the Northland Hunt.
Never underestimate the intelligence of a hare
Huntmaster Andrew Duff gallops across the paddock and hurtles over a fence with his flared red coat-tails billowing in the wind.
The baying hounds with their wet noses to the ground are on the scent of a hare.
The rest of the 76-strong field follow with horses and riders bounding over spars set up on fences and thundering through the paddocks of the rolling Dargaville farm.
I grab a handful of black mane and urge my bay-coloured steed towards the fence.
The horse curls up his front legs and launches himself like a missile.
We make it safely to the other side together and gallop on - my heart racing and the adrenaline pumping.
I can see a hare running along the ridgeline silhouetted against the blue Northland sky.
The tri-coloured hounds are still a fair distance behind.
Never underestimate the intelligence of a hare.
It scampers into a culvert and its mate takes up the baton and runs off.
After a few runs, the hare manages to outwit the hounds.
With a lull in the activity, it's time to catch up with fellow riders and find out about this sport of hunting.
Hunting, which dates back centuries in Britain, historically involved groups of riders following a pack of hounds trained to track down foxes.
Britain banned the sport after a caustic battle in Parliament and raucous street demonstrations.
Supporters say fox hunting is a vital rural tradition and an important way of controlling predators. Opponents consider it cruel, unnecessary and the preserve of the upper classes - "the unspeakable in full pursuit of the uneatable", as Oscar Wilde said.
In Northland, the sport attracts a wide range of people of varied backgrounds and ages.
Duff, an accomplished competitive horseman, has been riding horses for 40 plus years and has hunted in Northland for nearly as long.
It's a Duff family tradition with his father, Colin, having hunted for 30 years.
The huntmaster reckons the lure of hunting is as varied as the people it attracts.
"People are out there riding at whatever level they want. Some do it because of the adrenaline, others just like riding with friends in a non-competitive environment. Some are out there to have a look at the farms while others love jumping and watching the hounds searching."
And as the master, it's Duff's job to guide the riders.
"It's my job to look after the field but I challenge them every so often."
The Northland Hunt is reliant on the good will of farmers who allow their properties to be used.
"Without the farmers we don't have a sport," Duff says.
The Northland Hunt is 57-years-old and is one of 27 throughout New Zealand. Membership during the past three seasons has increased and the camaraderie creates a great atmosphere.
To the uninitiated, it could seem like an intimidating sport - black or red tailored jackets, high leather boots, buff breeches, white shirt with stock tie, velvet hardhats and gleaming horses.
But I soon find in Northland, it's far from it. They are a friendly bunch willing to welcome anyone and help riders they see struggling.
While we wait for the hounds to pick up another scent, a silver hip flask is handed to me. I indulge.
One seasoned rider, Murray Darroch, the hunt's president, assures me: "As the day goes on the jumps get smaller and your horse gets bigger."
He's not wrong. I muster a fair bit of Dutch courage throughout the day.
One rider who needs no such help is the oldest in the field, 86-year-old Lou Thompson is also the club's patron. He's a west coast stockman from way back and says being in the saddle "was where I was meant to be".
Hurtling over fences with ease, he enjoys a day out with his wife he describes as "much younger - she's 69".
At the other end of the age spectrum is 9-year-old Hunter Zwaans, from Dargaville.
A blue cast pokes out from the right sleeve of his tweed jacket.
He sits a top a striking skewbald horse. He's quick to explain that the injury is because of a fall from a motorbike and "being on a horse in a hunt is much safer".
This is his first real hunt and dad and dairy farmer Rex is keeping an eye on him. His mum, Lisa, is somewhere out in the field.
Kamo Intermediate teacher Fiona Davies has experienced the ups and downs of hunting. The downs have seen her bust a knee and suffer concussion. But it doesn't hold her back and she has kept coming back for 23 years.
"It's an opportunity to get out on a horse with other people. We get to see some awesome country.
"You can have as much exhilaration as you like from a canter up the hill to galloping over fences."
Nigel Dickson hunted 20 years ago and decided three years ago it was time to saddle up again.
"Everyone looks after each other out on the hunt field ... the aim is for everyone to enjoy themselves."
The hounds pick up a scent and work across the land, their tails waving in the air like flags.
The hip flask is quickly tucked away and we are off.
The hounds scampered in pairs to follow the scent, stopping only when called back by the horn of huntsman Stephen Lynch.
The hare bounds off. It's built for speed and puts a fair distance between itself and the hounds. It's two escapes to the hare and zero catches for the hounds.
No one seems to mind that the hare has escaped as we jump our way across the fences towards the trucks.
The end of the day sees everyone gather in a farm shed with fresh sawdust on the floor. A big table in the middle is full of the food that everyone has brought, including crayfish.
Duff thanks the landowners, Eric and Pam Moorhead, and Robert Harding. They get three cheers from the riders.
It's been an awesome day.
I've mixed with school kids, doctors, farmers, retirees, nurses, university students, school teachers and a former MP.
I've been surrounded by smiling faces and people willing to help. It's a far cry from the stiff upper lip and upper-class images from England that most of us are familiar with. And the hare outsmarted the hounds and lives to see another day.