In spite of my dodgy right hand – caused by an injury to my radial nerve – I decided to go stalking in the Highlands last weekend. Recovery from such injuries is quite slow, but enough mobility had returned to my trigger finger for me to give it a whirl. Invitations to hunt stags in the Cairngorms National Park are nothing to be sniffed at, particularly as the Scottish government seems determined to phase out stalking, along with fishing, grouse shooting and all the other country sports associated with rich Scottish landowners.

The war being waged by the SNP and the Greens against the owners of private estates is motivated by class envy but it’s dressed up as a high-minded attempt to save the planet. According to these chippy little martinets, the most useful contribution Scotland can make towards reducing CO2 emissions is to replace the peat moorland of the Highlands with pine trees – and in an effort to give this wanton act of destruction a veneer of romanticism, they talk about restoring the Great Wood of Caledon. The existence of this impenetrable Highland forest was cited by Roman generals as the reason they couldn’t progress beyond southern Scotland in their conquest of Britain, but some historians think it was invented by these commanders to spare their blushes.

The latest salvo in this campaign is a recent change to the Deer (Close Season) (Scotland) Order making it possible to shoot stags all year round rather than just between 1 July and 20 October. That sounds like an uncharacteristically libertarian measure, but the Scottish government is also intending to pay contractors millions of pounds to cull the deer population. This will supposedly make the reforestation of the Highlands easier and lead to the return of species that haven’t been seen in these parts for hundreds of years, such as wolf, lynx and bear. In reality, reforestation would mean the end of stalking and the disappearance of ground-nesting birds like grouse.

Luckily, 57 per cent of rural land in Scotland is privately owned and most of the estates will simply stop stalking stags on 20 October, as they’ve always done. But the green-eyed legislators in Holyrood have a card up their sleeves in the form of the Natural Environment Bill, which they’re determined to ram through before the next Scottish parliament elections. This will set cull targets that the estates will be legally obliged to meet. By hook or by crook, these nature-loving politicians who get all misty-eyed when talking about ‘rewilding’ are determined to wipe out the deer population.

Admittedly, I may not be the most convincing advocate on behalf of these majestic creatures, given that I set out to kill one on Saturday morning. But the argument isn’t about whether the deer have to be managed, but whether they should exist at all. And when their would-be predators are out-of-shape tourists in late -middle age, they stand a decent chance of surviving. One of the things that makes stalking so thrilling is how challenging it is. You can walk for miles without seeing a solitary stag, and when you eventually do spot one he’s often seen you first, which means you can’t get near him.

That was my fate on Saturday as Caroline and I were led up the hill by Gavin, a stalker employed by the local estate. It was pouring with rain on one of the wettest days of the year and when we returned to the Toyota Hilux to eat our packed lunch, having had no luck, Caroline decided to call it a day. In spite of being soaked through, I set out again, doing my best to keep up with Gavin, who skipped over the moorland like a mountain goat. We spied a group of stags on the skyline, but by the time we got up there they’d disappeared. Eventually, at around 3 p.m., Gavin spotted one just over the next ridge and we began crawling towards it on our stomachs. I didn’t know it was possible to get even wetter, but it was. Thirty minutes later, Gavin had the stag in his sights and beckoned me over to take the shot. I managed to get my withered hand under the gun, splint and all, and with considerable effort pulled the trigger. Bingo. Got him.

It really is the most marvellous sport. I know only a small minority will ever get to enjoy it, but stalking, as well as other country sports, provides employment to thousands of people, forming a critical part of Scotland’s rural economy. Many of those people also look after the land and do a better job than their state-employed counterparts. And for what it’s worth, there’s little evidence that pine trees are better sequesters of carbon than peat. Saving the planet, my arse. More like destroying one of the most beautiful landscapes in Europe.