Paul Hobson comes face to face with his first Peak District muntjac, but discovers the encounter is not as rare as it may seem.
A couple of years ago I was walking slowly up the track that leads to the famous Salt Cellar, found above Ladybower Reservoir, at the same time as the sun broke through on the horizon.
At the time, I was concentrating hard on scanning the heather and bilberry looking out for the ear tufts of mountain hares when my attention was alerted to a brown shape, some 200 metres or so ahead, walking down the track towards me.
I was convinced that it was a dog, although I couldn't see any walkers nearby. Since I wasn't sure what it was, I tucked myself into the heather and, leaving my camera in my bag, settled back to wait for it to pass.
As it strolled past, I glanced at it fully expecting to see a gingery-grey dog but I was amazed to realise that it was not a dog at all.
It was a short, stocky deer - not a red but a muntjac. I’ve spent a lot of time walking the Peak District and Derbyshire over the years, but this was my first ever sighting of a muntjac in northern Derbyshire and I was flabbergasted, not only because I didn't realise that they were present in the area, but because it was right out on open moorland.
When I got home that day I did a little research and found that muntjac were becoming increasingly common in Derbyshire and the Peak.
The first sighting in the county was back in 1948 and since then they have been spreading north slowly.
Muntjac are tropical deer. There are seven species globally - I have even been fortunate to photograph wild ones in India when I was searching for tigers.
The species that can be found in Britain is the Reeves's muntjac, originally from China, and it was first introduced way back in 1838 to Woburn Abbey, in Bedfordshire.
One thing we know about introducing birds and mammals into Britain is that it is only a matter of time before they escape and often, when they do, they become a problem.
The list is a long one and we have a litany of alien species that have grasped their opportunity with glee – grey squirrels, mink, little owls, Chinese water deer, sika deer, fallow deer, signal crayfish, edible door mice, brown hares and rabbits…
These are just a few that spring to mind quickly and the list of plants, incidentally, is far longer!
Muntjac did indeed manage to escape from Woburn and a number of deliberate releases into the Midlands last century helped to boost the escapees and the result was that they quickly spread far and wide.
There are no natural predators to the muntjac and Britain also provides a lot of ideal natural habitat, woodlands and copses, whilst hedges and railway embankments allow the deer to move through the country pretty much unchecked.
During the early part of the last century muntjac numbers increased but, at least initially, they didn't seem to pose any real problem.
However, by the 1970s a number of alarm bells were beginning to sound. By this time, particularly in prime habitat, muntjac numbers had risen to approximately 100 per square kilometre.
I remember vividly a commission I was once working on for Natural England in Cambridgeshire and met with the senior warden of Woodwalton Fen, a National Nature Reserve.
He told me that the number of muntjac was huge and they were causing serious problems with their incessant grazing of the understory in the woods.
Rare plants were disappearing as they were browsed to virtual extinction and cowslips, bluebells, primroses and many rare orchids had all declined dramatically.
The next morning I was up at dawn and started to patrol the rides through the reserve and I quickly realised exactly what the warden had meant. As I peeked down each ride there were at least 20 or more muntjacs happily grazing away.
Since the turn of the millennium, we have realised just how much damage muntjacs can do. The decline in rare plants is well documented and this inevitably has a knock-on effect on the insect population, particularly rare woodland butterflies.
Recently, the constant nibbling of the deer has been linked to a reduction in nightingale numbers. In 2019 they were added to the invasive alien species list of the UK.
Muntjacs are small deer with striped faces, no more than half a metre tall and about a metre long.
In the summer months they are a russet-gingery colour, which fades to grey in winter. When they are alarmed they run off, and often have their perky tail raised.
They have short antlers which are usually nothing more than a single, short point and, like Chinese water deer, the males have two short tusk-like teeth.
By nature, they are relatively solitary creatures unless the population density is particularly high, but they do not form herds.
Their short size should be diagnostic. Their origin is tropical so they don't have a breeding season and females can give birth in any month and can become pregnant almost straight after giving birth.
Whilst they give birth to one fawn at a time, they can produce approximately three fawns every two years.
One feature that sets them apart from other deer is their distinctive voice. They are also known as ‘barking deer’, which reflects their rather unique call, which can often be mistaken for a dog. They can also scream and hinds keep in contact with each other and their fawns with a squeak.
The spread of this diminutive deer is still progressing north. They are now common from the south coast of England into Wales and on the east of England up to the Scottish border.
They are certainly fairly numerous in the south of our county and you could spot one almost anywhere in the county and the Peak.
As a rule they are mainly nocturnal, with their peak activity usually taking place at dawn and dusk due to disturbance - mainly from dogs and traffic.
However, in areas where they are less likely to be disturbed they can appear at any time of the day.
So, if you happen to be out walking and spot a middle-sized dog, particularly in woodland, give it a second look, you just might have spotted a muntjac.
