I've always loved wildlife - I was brought up in rural England with a large garden surrounding our house and with plenty of freedom to simply go out and enjoy myself.
And so I had a little den in the nearby woods where I'd go to just sit and enjoy watching squirrels and rabbits among the trees, not to mention all the birds and insects - it was so peaceful, relaxing and enjoyable.
Later on in life as I grew into my teens I'd camp out at night all alone, my Dad having bought me a special red-light torch so I could watch without disturbing them, foxes, badgers and deer as they foraged - it was completely absorbing and wonderful. Before long such compelling pleasures and studies became the basis of my work as I graduated from University and entered the business world, soon finding a position as a research scientist in the field of Wildlife Conservation.
Therefore, having married, when we had our daughter, I fully intended to introduce her to all the wonders of nature as soon as I could, starting with simply the fascinating denizens of our garden; then of the park, the municipal zoo and eventually the wilder residents of our woodlands.
All along however I seemed to be thwarted by my wife who obviously had an inbuilt fear of anything wild. She seemed to do her best to impart her fear into my daughter, who, pretty obviously as it turned out, took not a blind bit of notice of her!
Now I'm not saying that my wife's attitude had anything to do with our divorce, possibly she just decided that married life wasn't for her, but one day she just announced that she was leaving us. That should sound as if it was a kick in the teeth but it wasn't: quite honestly we'd been at loggerheads for so long; not seeing eye to eye and forever bickering with each other. So in a way, her decision was simply the closing of the book on our marriage - no more than that. She didn't even want her daughter to contact her; she obviously was intending to disappear into her strange fear-ridden world and truthfully I wasn't about to stop her going; I didn't even hesitate when signing the divorce papers when they duly arrived.
My daughter Carol had not long ago turned 18 and as she had always been far closer to me than to her mother, she took it all in her stride; she almost seemed relieved. Perhaps she was...
Certainly I didn't miss the bickering and now I could devote even more time to my daughter and my research work.
I'd better describe Carol for those of you who appreciate a bit of youthful female beauty. She was, as I said, just 18 coming up 19 and she always seemed to look a bit tomboyish - shorts and a t-shirt were much preferred to a dress, it seemed. She was tall for her age at around five foot eight but was still some five inches shorter than me. She kept her dark auburn hair cut short, which actually enhanced her pretty neck and showed off her facial features better. She had dainty ears, 'strong' arching eyebrows, deep brown eyes - come-to-bed eyes as they used to say - a slender nose and sweet cupid lips.
Quite honestly I didn't, in those days, know what size she was but I'd guess at perhaps 34B up top; possibly a bit more and probably about size 10 down below; all I knew was that she appeared to have a lovely figure with long legs and wonderfully perky tits that, placed on an approachable female, would have been in my hands in a very short time!
But as they were her father's daughter's tits they remained unsullied and safe - I guess I just loved her too much to even consider breaking our trusted bond.
Me, by the way - I'm Chris; the other half of this story. I'm in my late 30s. I have a small goatee beard and somewhat unkempt hair; dark brown but lightly peppered with grey already. I'm fairly lean but strong and fit; not gym-fit but fit from plenty of good outdoor living and healthy food and that's me in a nutshell...
My work in environmental studies demanded a good number of wildlife investigative trips to wild and sometimes remote places in and around Britain; a pleasurable interlude, in my opinion, from working in the 'depot' as we called the Society's offices.
Anyway, Carol's college studies ended just around the time that my wife made her announcement that June, leaving me to ponder on how to deal with matters.
At 18 and with no job as yet, Carol would be fine if left at home; she was well "domesticated" but it wouldn't be fair on her really to be left alone for perhaps a week or so, so I approached my employers and asked if I could take her with me on my trips.
No problem, they said - just so long as she didn't disrupt my work and that I paid her expenses. Mentally I added, "So long as she helps out too."
If only I'd have known how prophetical those words were!
I told Carol of the situation and after a brief bit of alarm; she suddenly woke up to the idea of exploring interesting places and quickly agreed; her love of the wild country was strong enough to even overcome the thought of camping with her Dad!
It took a bit of organising though - we needed another tent; another sleeping bag; suitable clothes for Carol, etc, etc - the list seemed to go on and on but we got there eventually!
And in case you're getting the idea that I spent all my time out and about, that wasn't true - there was more than enough work to be done back at the Society's head office and it was almost a month before my next 'outing' could be arranged - it would be in mid-July.
This next trip wasn't going to be anything really special - it was more of an examination of the decline or progress of local wild life; concentrating my studies in one relatively small area, so we were able to pack all our needs into two lumpy rucksacks and set off for what was, to all intents and purposes, a week-long camping outing. Thank heavens we hadn't needed to bring piles of warm clothes as well...but I had an assortment of notepads, bottles, nets, not to mention all my cameras and my computer and so on, which all added to our load.
I'd been to the site several times before so I knew the lie of the land and where to go and on this visit I was merely planning to update a data stream to chart the ongoing progress of local wildlife.
We drove to a privately owned area which I now had approval for access and parked inside an old barn - the ten thousand acre, or about four thousand hectare estate we were now on pretty well having been handed over to nature and to the Society many, many years ago - the old Manor House and most of its outhouses now being just ruins.
It was quite a warm day when we finally arrived at our destination and I was glad for us that we were both wearing shorts so having unpacked the car we hoisted our rucksacks and after an hour or so of hot hiking we reached my favourite site and set up camp.
Dense forest growth sheltered us from the north; there was a stream tinkling along merely twenty yards away and a huge tree had crashed down some years ago, affording a sheltered campsite where a patch of daylight penetrated to the grassy glade where we were.
The fallen tree would attract many small creatures; the water would attract many more and even the grass would be of interest to grazers - there should be plenty of wildlife and action, or at least there had been plenty here on previous visits; it should be ideal for a newcomer like Carol.
Carol immediately took over; her first action was to help me set up the two tents; her second was to move both our blown-up mattresses and our sleeping bags into one tent; the next was to shift all my collecting gear and other such stuff into the other tent.
I did my best to stop her doing that but she was adamant.
"Dad," she said as she busied herself, "I don't mind the idea of you sleeping right beside me. I'd rather put up with you snoring than with the smell of dead things, thanks."
She carried what looked like a few miles of wiring into the 'study tent' as she now called it and dumped the pile.
