16ga.com ~ View topic - Old shotguns, old stocks, and old hunting styles

Brad, you are alright in my book, reb or no reb. You are right. I started this thread to muse on why breech loading shotgun stocks got less straight after the 1870's and then straighter again shortly after the turn of the century. The more input we get, and the more opinions, the better we can take what makes sense, and leave the rest.

None of us has all the answers. However, I really doubt my musings have offended anyone deeply. Their shots across my bow have pretty much been in fun and have been delivered tongue in cheek for the most part. I've enjoyed the whole thread. Its been one of the more spirited debates we've had here without degenerating into a hooting contest.

I think the one thing we can come away with is that each of us shoots in the way that works best for us using a gun that shoots best for us. The only way to find out is to try it and see.

Quote from the initial post:

"For the average hunter, ground sluicing was just a normal thing to do and many a bird got potted on the ground. Covey birds like quail were also ground sluiced. The more taken, the better the supper was." end quote

The first 16 ga round i fired, one summer at the age of about 12, was from a very well worn single barrel that was my grandfathers. The only markings on it were "16 GA" and "choke". No finish on the wood, absolutely none; clean, slick, shiny bore with no pitting; and rough outside metal surfaces. I was handed the thing, instructed to go down to the barn, get up on top of the feed stack, be quiet for a while and bring in some birds for lunch. I had 3 shells, of multiple colors and who knows what shot sizes. They were all 16's.

The "feed" was grain (milo maize and hygeria mixed), cut with a "row binder", tied into bundles with binder twine, stacked in the fields, then transported to the barn. You don't know what hot and itchy is until you've handled that kind of bundled feed all day, loading it from the stacks onto the trailer. hauling it to the barn and then restacking it under the barn just in case it ever rained again.

We would load the feed bundles out of the pile under the barn into a trailer, and then haul it to feed the cattle. During all this loading, unloading and throwing of bundles around, there was a bit of loose grain left on the ground. Doves were attracted to it.

It was a perfect setup. All i had to do was climb up there and wait until there were plenty of them on the ground, point, and pull the trigger. BOOM. Lunch. The original fresh food market. Not more than an hour from BOOM to lunch, including the walk time from barn to the kitchen. I can't remember how many resulted from that first BOOM, but there were more than 2 to go with the biscuits, pinto beans and resulting gravy after they were rolled in flour and fried.

Now the quail were a different story .They were hand fed corn from a blue metal bucket, out back between the saddle house and the main house. They'd come running up when called, usually after the afternoon siesta. The banging on the bucket and the whistling and calling would bring the mixed covey of blues and bob's running. I don't ever remember any of them being shot at. I was responsible for the demise of several feral housecats who were considered a threat to those babies, using the Savage Model 6 .22 that was stored behind the back door next to the 16 gauge.

I think the statute of limitations has run out; my grandfather is raising his cattle in a better world where there is lots of rain, plenty of good gramma grass, and no pear burners; the 16 ga went, years ago while i was overseas, to an uncle who was on that place maybe 3 or 4 times in his life; and the farm was just sold this January.

I hope one of the cousins still has the 16. I heard that their dad, the uncle, cleaned it all up, blued the barrel, refinished the stock and such, but i never saw it again after i left for my third overseas tour.

rayb

aw hellllll, ......I'm too damned old to be teary eyed about this kind of stuff..

I thank you for that Ray. I'm sorry I missed it after I moved on to dodge all the overheated horse manure being trown my way for telling the simple truth. Some of these folks never grew up in the country on a small farm or ranch on marginal ground , or in Appalachia were the furniture factories and and textile mills pay grown men a nickle over minimum wage to feed their families on.

In my mid 20's, I lived in Grayson County on the west side of the Blue Ridge near Mt Jefferson in the top of the New river valley. All hunting season meant to many folks there was that they could take the jack lights off their heads and hunt during daylight. Nothing went to waste. Lay lines were common in the New River. Catfish was a staple if you were good at it and had a good spot for your line.

I regularly shot pheasant on the ground or flying with a bow and Flu Flu fletched arrows when I was a youngster. I'd hit them in the air often enough if they flushed in a rising straight line like they sometimes do. However, I was just as happy to pin one to the ground if it would hold long enough for me to nail it, which was often enough. I even would wack them running over open ground. Same for rabbits and squirrels, ducks etc. Geese were not common then.

I was a kid who grew up with a bow because my dad never grew up with guns and hated them after being blown half to hell in WWII. We still ate lots of small game meat though. I did not know any better, and the folks who hunted pheasant with shotguns kind of held me in awe as I'd come past them with a brace of cock birds tied to the end of my bow over my shoulder. I even bird dogged for a couple of Randolph cops for a season or two for a few bucks an afternoon. One of them lost a substantial bet to the other when I nailed a cock on the rise square in the back and out through his throat with a flu flu. I got a 10 buck tip that day plus the bird for supper.

It was a different world for you on the dry Texas plains in those days. It was a different world for the poorer folks of Appalachia. It was a differnet world for me too growing up with a lemon wood bow and hand made cedar arrows. And it was a different world for the folks who hunted with muzzleloading fowling pieces and who faced an unknown continent and danger around every bend in the river.

I wingshoot today becaue I was given the chance to learn. I have the money and the time to support my sport. I have no need nor the inclination to shoot a bird on the ground now. But one time, I was a kid with a bow, and you were a kid in the feed stack. We see the world maybe a bit alike you and I having walked similar trails. Once again, I thank you for your open honesty Ray. Its refreshing.

How old are you guys, anyway Smile

? How were things during the Great Depression?

And sometimes I feel 164 years old. Sad