On Saturday morning we were up bright and early to pay another visit to the Stevenstone Hunt, who were meeting on the edge of Sheepwash.

“Fuck sakes” were Hemmings’ words when he eventually realised we were there. Then came the usual lecture about the ‘rules’ we must abide by “or else there’s going to be issues”. Within minutes of leaving the poorly-attended meet, Hemmings proceeded to kick one of our sabs and threatened to “fuck her up”. Nice chap.

The morning was spent watching Hemmings cast hounds into maize and woodland north and south of Upcott Barton. Hounds would spend some time in each covert, doing a fair bit of speaking (they’re quite a noisy pack), and then Hemmings would spend about half an hour gathering them before taking them to the next draw. Two foxes were helped to safety over the course of the morning, both of them unseen by the hunt.

A mid-week surprise visit to the Stevenstone, who met at Patchill on the edge of Petrockstowe. We arrived a little late and the hunt were already out around Hartleigh Wood, accompanied by about 5 riders and a handful of supporters, as well as badger-digger Ben Vincent on his terrier quad.

As to be expected with the Stevenstone these days, we found hounds littering the nearby area, most of them running back and forth between Filleigh Moor and the plantation at Beara. After some time, Stephen James emerged from his midmorning nap to regain control of the wayward hounds. Unfortunately for James, most of the hounds had other ideas. Even with help from other members of the hunt to try and reunite the pack, many hounds clearly preferred exploring by themselves.

Having eventually gathered some of the pack, James decided it was time to resume the hunt, taking them into nearby Newcourt Wood. Hounds got on a line and headed west through a mouldy maize field but quickly lost the scent and decided they much preferred the smell of the manure that had recently between spread on surrounding fields.

Eggesford’s Jason Marles was busy polishing his head for opening meet, so we decided to sab the Stevenstone at Five Lane End in Little Torrington.

When we arrived we heard hounds in cry in Langtree Common and quickly found them marking a fox to ground, with hunt support lined up along the road eager to see them dig it out and kill it. However with sabs guarding the mark the huntsman gathered his pack and headed west to Watertown through the almost impenetrable gorse and conifer plantation along the valley.

Hounds went into cry again in the elephant grass near Langtree Moor but sabs were able to rate them off the line and a fox was seen running safely south. The hounds continued west into more elephant grass, which is so incredibly dense they mostly just scattered and got lost, occasionally whelping when they were slashed by the surprisingly vicious grass. The cohesion of the pack was not helped by the huntsman, who can’t decide if he wants to call the hounds back or hunt them on, so just alternates between the two while making irate Welsh noises. The hounds seem to have learned to ignore him.

A few weeks ago we sabbed a Stevenstone Hunt meet at Great Gorwood, together with Plymouth & West Devon Hunt Sabs.

We sent the drone up and spotted hounds hunting a fox to ground near Park Farm. Foot sabs were deployed to clear the hounds out and have a nice chat with terriermen Ben Vincent (the one we filmed digging a fox out of a badger sett at the Axe Vale last year) and David Lawrence. There’s a 50/50 chance of finding either of these two with their heads down any hole in Devon. They admitted there was a fox gone to ground and wanted to debate the legality of hounds marking a badger sett. Not even pretending any more, are they?

The hunt spent the rest of the morning hunting Park Farm and Park Moor. While sabs were busy dealing with the first marked sett, our drone filmed hounds bolting a fox from a thick hedge. The fox ran right past huntsman Stephen James. Two hounds were allowed to pursue the fox and Stephen can be seen in our footage encouraging the rest of the pack to join them. The fox disappeared into a very thick hedge at the junction between several fields and sadly we did not see them reemerge. Unfortunately we are not sure whether this fox went to ground and survived or was killed by hounds in the hedge.

After packing up the Eggesford Hunt earlier in the day, we headed to Hoarestone Cross north of Thorne Moor in north Devon to see what the Stevenstone Hunt were up to.

We got there a few minutes after the hunt had cast hounds into Vielstone Woods. Sabs deployed into the surrounding fields in the pouring rain to march this gang of wildlife criminals back to the shed where the rest of their haggard followers were lurking. The skies calmed and the sun came out just as the hounds were loaded into the lorry.

In what has become something of a ritual in recent weeks, we spent the next couple of hours having a picnic by the side of the road while watching the hunt huddle in the farmyard. Followers occasionally turned to glare in our direction, their frustration evident. At one point, huntsman Stephen James – tie oddly tucked into his trousers – put his hand on his hip, adopted the sourest of sour faces, and spoke at us at a volume completely lost to the wind. We could only guess at his words – perhaps something about sour grapes, sour apples, or a newfound interest in sourdough.

Yesterday we sabbed the Stevenstone hunt. You’d think things couldn’t get much worse for this hunt after Jess Harrison, but they are now led by some sort of evil Welsh gnome who has less hound control than even ‘half pack’ Harrison. We can’t believe it either.

The hunt met at Elmfield Farm near Milton Damerel and mustered 2, yes 2, field riders. A bunch of ancient animal abusers were taken off life support for the morning to eat some cheap sausage rolls and drink Tesco’s finest port wine at the meet, while huntsman Steve ‘scatter-pack’ James struggled to control his hounds in the farmyard, or even be heard over them. A pretty good indicator of the rest of the day.

While everyone was waiting for the hunt to set off from Elmfield Farm, the landowner came over to tell us that a cattle lorry had come from London and Birmingham to dump 200 urban foxes in the north Devon countryside. “They all had scurvy”… Whatever they put in the drink at this meet, it’s clearly mind-altering stuff.