A true tale that I have posted before:
The following is the very true tale of an amateur mole catcher. I was moored up near St Olaves and the land owner, a friend of mine, was trying to gas the numerous moles that were plaguing him. Whilst most of us might use pellets, or the exhaust fumes from a tractor, the gentleman in question was emptying the contents of a calor gas cylinder down the burrows. It might have seemed a good idea at the time, until, when he'd finished, he lit up his pipe and threw the match down to the ground. There was no bang as such, just a roar, his prized bit of grass was quickly turned into an intricate trench system, such as had not seen since the 1914/1918 war. I may be mistaken, but I'm quite certain that I heard the scream of an airborne mole as it passed overhead, realising that it didn't have it's lifejacket on and was headed for the river. Okay, so that last sentence is entirely fictional!