this is a story that i heard about 40 years ago....from a fellow who was in his mid 60's, and was telling of something he experienced when 12 or 14 years old....so the occasion referenced is some 90+ years ago.
said he grew up in a rural community outside waco, texas, where there was "an old man" who owned a substantial amount of acreage, with numerous tanks (ponds), pecan orchards, grain fields, etc. onsite. fellow allowed free use of his place to the local youths - as long as they conformed to his sensible rules....so they played, camped, fished, hunted squirrels, doves, etc. the "old man" had been to africa several times, and when he was feeling conversational, they would engage him in stories of his past life. he owned "an old", cased, double rifle, that was "very big, and very heavy".
the story, as told to me, was that on occasion they would convince the fellow to bring out the cased gun, and let the kids handle it....said he had a few cartridges for the gun "that looked like rotan cigars". they would then beg him to shoot the gun - but, he would always say that the ammunition was irreplaceable. so they asked him how it kicked....and the answer, as told to me;
if you're shooting at a paper plate, or a tin can, it kicks right smart....but when you've crawled on your stomach to get 75 feet from a lion, it feels like a daisy air rifle.