Rather than hi-jack Marks' thread, I'll start this one with two shots, one known to me ..

Long shot : It is reported that many years ago during some kind of public shooting display one of the old pros [see below] took a shot at a crow that was about three times stupid at some unmeasured range and the bird suddenly took a mid flight jolt, folded awkwardly & helicoptered down AFTER he had turned around and was addressing the crowd again. He looked back over his shoulder and then said something to the effect of, 'Well, it had to go somewhere." It was witnessed by a large number of people, told many times and described in some sports book or books.

Lucky shot: Not long after the Remington 1100 was introduced a friend had dozed off under a stand of willows one early morning duck hunt and a flight of Bluebills was swinging in low toward him and out of range from where the rest of us were positioned on the small cove. Another friend realized he was asleep and yelled at the top of his lungs, "DUCKS!" The sleeper blinked to and from his sitting position fired one round without ever begining to mount the gun. Seven Bluebills fell out of the flight, stone dead. Not one even flinched. I've never witnessed anything like it before or since. There were five of us up there that morning and all saw it happen. The sleeper still shoots that gun w/the same 26" IC bbl. I never knew what cartridge he was shooting, but it was still lead shot days then.

Lie: simple type: "I routinely kill ducks at 80 yards."

Lie: BIG type: When field shooting in the wind, "I routinely bag ten dove w/ten shots, taking all comers."

The crow story is connected with Herb Parsons
http://www.showmanshooter.com/

My luckyest shot was on a big buck running at 465 yards.

These queries have the potential to evoke alot of emotional juju, before ending badly. I hope this one doesn't go this way.

I've seen my hunting partner make 50 plus yd shots with a Winchester 1300 slug gun - rifle sights and all - using factory trap loads in #7.5. Yeah, yeah, I know that this is impossible. I know that it's impossible for me. But I've seen him do it......oh, only around 100 times over the past 18 years. He can get 3 responsible shots off in less time than a grease gun can cycle 3 rounds of .45 ACP.

He once conned me into taking a 55 yd (subsequently measured) shot at a phez with a .008 choked 20. Darned if if I didn't make it.......the bird wasn't exactly stone dead, though.

I used my M-12 16 choked .021 to stone an incoming phez at a measured 70 yds once. I favor this particular M-12 when guiding, and not infrequently put cripples down out to 50 yds or so. I really like B&Ps. When pushing the envelope premium ammo is worth every penny to me.

Sam

As a young pup trapshooter, I was introduced to something called a 'porch shoot' at my first club picnic. The shooting position was a spot even with the clubhouse porch, behind the #4 trap. Exact distance unknown, but well back of the sidewalk. Long way.

The club sharpie encouraged me to enter. Five buck purse, 10 shot event, winners decided by shoot-off in case of ties. Well attended event, the porch shoots drew over a dozen entries - usually our top handicap men.

I coughed up five bucks to enter (it was actually six, one buck to the club for targets).

Old John, who had pity on newcomers, took me aside and explained his technique which was simply to hold even with the maximum height of the targets in elevation, and upon first flash of orange just spot shoot along that line where the target appears to be going. Oh, and use 3deq Federal Champions in 7 1/2. It's largely a game of chance, but you can help the odds sez he.

Well, using John's secret I broke the first five and was leading after the first relay. Talk about instant celebrity status. It was amazing to see the time of flight delay at that distance.

I won the first shoot with 9/10 and thus had enough money to shoot for the rest of the day!

I'll never forget it.

Does it count as a lucky shot if I know that Homeless Joe is dumb enough to take a shot at running game beyond 400 yds? Doesn't seem to qualify as a long shot though.

My best shot?

A javelina @ 274 yds (ranged with a Leica Rangefinder), using a Rem. 700, .250 Savage, from a sitting position. Couldn't get any closer though I would have liked to.

My luckiest shot?

A javelina @ 274 yds (ranged with a Leica Rangefinder), using a Rem. 700, .250 Savage, from a sitting position. Couldn't get any closer though I would have liked to.

I hope it will be the longest shot I ever have to take, rather get closer. Takes more skill to get closer than to get lucky.

Three shots stand out over the 40 years or so I've been hunting, all lucky!

I was duck hunting with my dad and uncle, using a 10 gauge with 2 7/8" shells, probably about 16-17 years old! Both were great shots and not prone to sky-busting.

A high flyer came by, which they pronounced was too high. Being on the far end of the blind, I pulled the 10 up, took the shot and folded the bird. They had diverted their attention to some other birds, and were surprised as could be that I had shot. I think they were going to scold me for such a foolish shot, but when they saw the bird drop, what could they say!

Another was a shot at a coyote, running full tilt! I paced that off at about 215 yds.

A couple of buddies and I were out shooting ground squirrels with our 22's. I had just bought a Model 28 S&W 357 and had it along. One squirrel kept popping up out of it's hole about 70 yds out and my friends kept missing. About the third or fourth missed shot, I pulled the 357 out and commented "Let me show you how it's done!" When it popped out again, I took an offhand shot at it. Although I didn't show it; much to my surprise, it started to flop around and was dead by the time we walked up to get it. I had to let them believe I was fairly good with the 357. The funny thing was, I was shooting it outside my folks' house a few days earlier and couldn't hit squat.

One Saturday morning in January 1981, I awoke to find myself the only one at our Goose hunting lease at Bucktown in Dorchester County, Maryland. I took my favorite blind, set out the decoys and settled in. First takers after legal shooting time were a pair that came right in and I made a double. Not too much later four came in and I dropped my third bird. The three birds were dead on the ground 14, 16 and 21 steps from the pit blind. Three Canadas in three shots with nobody there to see it!! Had the decoys put away and was on the road by 9am and seated at 2311 Wisconsin Avenue in DC by 11am for lunch!!

I think it does...I didn't tell you I missed a standing shot at him at 300 yds...
10 degrees and a 25 mph with out of the North shooting due east....at the shot he bolted. i was commited by then I swang ahead of him and touched the trigger. Down for the count....then he started trying to get up I shot at him about 3 more times before I decided he wasn't going anywhere. Never touched him again.
Big Bucks don't come too often in these parts...and the shots can be long.

Ps...just because yOu don't like it doesn't make me dumb...yOu dummy.

Over some 55 years of "enjoying shooting sports" I remember a few good (lucky) shots. One of my most memorable was not by me but my father. A few of us young lads in our early teens were shooting at matches with our RR bb guns, the object was to light the match. As the bbs piled up against the out-house me pappy happened along and puffing on his pipe stood and watched us younge-uns strut our stuff, with a few broken matches but no fire. Father finally said I'd like to try that and some one handed him a "shootin iron" - a few snickers were heard as he took hold of the gun. Then holding the gun at arms lenght, pulled the trigger and voila fire at last. As he handed the gun back, some one said "want to try that again"?, to which my father replied "I am kind of busy but you all see it can be done" and walked away. There was a man who knew when to quit and if I remember that was the only match ever lit that day or any other. As for me my most memorable shot was a jack-rabbit, running full tilt at 330 paces (I normally take a 39" pace) with a 6mm Remington. My shortest memorable shot again at a jack at about 10' with a .222-he never completed the secound leap as I literally shot him in mid air. Well enough for now. Everyone have a Merry Christmas and the "Best" of everything in the coming year-I enjoy this sight and the company of ALL present here. Take care --- John Can.

Joe, I'll hoist aboard anything at this time of the year, but whatever you want to call that shot it was not sporting. I've shot competitively in international competition and any shot at a running animal at that distance was all for you and not the animal. If I were guiding, I'd take you home. You probably learned from it. Merry Christmas!

Nothing special here, only one remotely interesting was on a goose hunt with my uncle. He hit a goose, but didn't bring it down, it was crossing away from him, so I pulled off the bird I was aiming and swung on the wounded one. The wounded bird and another one crossed just as I shot, both fell stone dead.

Any hunter that has never made a bad decision on a shot is either lying or spends too much time in Internet Dreamland....which are you ?

I need to add another one to the list! As mentioned earlier, my dad was very good with a shotgun, but it was with a rifle where he could perform magic! I guess raising cattle on a ranch in the middle of no-where, spending all your free time shooting will get you to that point!

Anyway, they sold the ranch, and bought a couple hundred acres from my mom's folks closer to town. One morning my Grandma called and said there were some dogs in her field and they had just taken down a deer. My dad told my older brother to grab a shotgun, while he grabbed his rifle (1947 vintage Win70 in 270), and headed for the door. When we reached the field, the dogs spooked and headed across the field for the timber at a dead run. He shot the lead dog offhand at probably about 100-125 yds, dumped the second one a little further out, offhand again, and the third one escaped into the timber. I've seen him do this with deer also, although not his preferred shot.

I may catch He** from some of you for shooting dogs, but in rural Idaho in the 60's, dogs chasing deer were fair game and probably still are in most peoples mind.

Feral dogs have no place in the wild.

They're like coyotes pests and vermin need to be shot on sight!!!
All the best

I rolled a Black Coyotee at over 500 yards running...he got uo a took off. If I hadn't heard reports of people seeing him walking with a limp I'd have swore my shot just tripped him up.

Stray dogs and any cat should be fair game, but shooting them in many jurisdictions is illegal.

Oh no NOT stray dogs but like Joe said feral dogs.
All the best

At our club we have what is called "The Long Bird" every weekend during our Saturday Calcutta. Anyone shooting in the calcutta can buy as many tickets as they wish for the Long Bird Shoot at $1.00 each. Only half of the total money can be won each week. (The other half of the pot is put back for the next week's Long Bird). Three tickets are drawn from the pot and three shooters get to shoot each week. One is for 50%, one is for 30% and one is for 20% of (half) whatever the total pot is. The three shooters go out to the range and they are handed a "Silver Bullet" by the club manager. (A 12 gauge-Gray Winchester AA)(They can not shoot their own shell). They shoot one at a time from the 27 yard line on stand #5. A target is pulled on their command- TWO traps down the line. If one of the shooters breaks the target, they win whatever percent they were shooting for. If two or three of the shooters break a target, they get whatever percent their ticket was for. If no one breaks a target, then ALL of the money from that week gets put back for the next week. There are very few targets broken during the season, so the pot can grow fairly large. But once in a while someone will break one and win quite a bit of money, even if the most they can win is 50% of half of the total pot. Whatever money is left at the end of the year, goes in to start the next's year's Long Bird at the first Calcutta........Tough shot- shooting two traps down the line at a bird coming out at a hard left angle. Plus you have to be lucky enough to have your ticket drawn. But occasionally someone will break one. They usually win around a thousand dollars- sometimes more.

Not to steal this thread, but now for the rest of the story! The deer was still alive, had been hamstrung, the flesh had been torn from it's exposed side, revealing it's ribcage!

My dad told my brother to put the deer out of it's misery with the shotgun, which he did. A memorable shot indeed! Then we went back to the house and he called the Local Game Warden, who came out and collected up the dogs and the deer.

Luckiest shot(s)

Dove hunting 30yrs ago and posted behind a small cedar on a fence row, Beretta 20ga O/U in hand. I looked around the cedar and saw 5 coming pretty much abreast. On approach I stepped out and shot at far right bird, killing it and one that was THIRD from the right. I swung past the cedar and killed the next bird as they were leaving. 3 doves with 2 shots will help your daily avg.

Best shot

Deer hunting on a power line in SC, I was up a power pole about 40ft standing on a piece of plywood. Just got settled in when a doe and 2 spikes came across the cleared power line, running full out.
I had a 742 in 30-06 with a peep sight. Took all three between 40- 100 yrds, all three running full out with 4 shots.

Move over Homeless Joe.

Joe, I've lost exactly three birds in a lifetime of duck shooting---ducks that couldn't be retrieved because of circumstances beyond my dogs' prowess, and I grew up in a culture of not shooting where prospects shifted from killing to wounding. We bought shells and cartridges two, three or four at a time. In these parts, among hunters I've guided and shot with, a quarter-mile shot at a running deer is more than bad judgement; it's doing it and talking about it. Your last message makes it clear to me that you learned from it, as I anticipated in my message to you, and that's the main thing.

Many years ago, my brother Jim took a real skybuster shot at a canada goose that was at least 100 yards up and I think considerably more. The shot was really a laugher. He was shooting a superposed 20 with 26" IC/Mod. barrels. (He was shooting Fed. Premium copper plated 4s in the old lead days.) We were in a little duck boat on Mud Lake, Idaho. Well, the golden bb found its way to that goose's brain. Down came that great big honker. Took forever to fall and hit the water within 20 feet of the boat like a washtub dropped out of a plane. If it had hit one of us or the boat I don't know what would have happened.

Funny thing. That evening we were in the only restaurant/bar/pool hall in Mud Lake. Some guy in the bar came over, said he recognized us and asked if we had shot a goose that morning on the lake. "Yes." "Well," he says, "I was out there and I saw that shot. Great shot but I guess when you are shooting #4 buck shot you can get a few like that."

We had to buy him three beers to convince him the goose was shot with legal shells and not buck shot. I think it took two more to convince him it was a 20 gauge.

Anyway, Jake

In my Business, 24/7 of building custom stocks on Shotguns,Field & Comp.Rifles, Field & Comp, Handguns, Field & Comp. also Self Defence.If I had recorded all the stories of "Accomplishments" that I had had a 'Hand" in after building 'The New Bits',Ripley's 'Belive it or Not' would have a 'Field Day'.....Live Pigeon shots and Hand-Gunners, Dove Shots,I just said 'Thanks' and put my Prices Up 50%.....Anybody remember Elmer Keith and Askins'peeing-match' over Elmers 600 yd with a 4" S&W mod 29? One Shot Kill, deer of some kind, It went on for years..Yes I Did'(EH),Your a Dammed Liar(A).I killed 5"Bridge Pheasants" at a 'Pigeon Shoot' One Federal 1.1/4ozx7.1/2 Cartridge! Used a c 1901 Purdey Hammer gun..017 choke.........Blew the crap out of the Wicker Basket they were being held in!!!! Put another log on the fire, lots more stories to come!!!!!cc/dt

I learned from it...I learned I was pretty Lucky.

If another big bruiser like him bolts at 350 yards after I shot at him and he's going full tilt at 500 yards by the time I get reloaded I hope I'm lucky again....because I will be throwing lead at him.

One thing you guys (that want to trash a guys hunting ethics) didn't take into consideration was that I could've wounded the Buck on the first shot....my first shot at 300 hundred was ethical...I just had a brain freeze and didn't allow for the wind.

All follow up shots on game that might be wounded are justified.....

yEr move King.

JoE wrote "Any hunter that has never made a bad decision on a shot is either lying or spends too much time in Internet Dreamland....which are you ?"

I have made bad decisions on game shots and have seen about all of my hunting buddies do the same. There is something about a bird flushing at my feet that causes me to lose 40 IQ points. Since I only had 70 to start with that has led to some bad decisions on range and "bag-ability". Certainly in casual conversation I would say I wouldn't take a shot at so-and-so range or wouldn't shoot two birds out of a covey rise because poor scenting conditions make it hard to find the bird that was shot first.

But after a 75 yard walk watching dogs hold point and 25 birds getting up around my feet unexpectedly I have made bad decisions.

This post doesn't mean I don't regret them. I just understand JoE's point.

Best,

Mike

I've noted that those shooting rifled bores strive to have "instant kills", bowhunters are just happy with finding a kill after tracking it and not having to take a second shot, shotgunners talk the talk of quick kills but the nature of the shotgun is that it is often a wounding weapon. I don't know anyone I've hunted alongside with a shotgun for long that hasn't wounded regularly with one. I believe it's not only the nature of the shotgun, but of "shooting flying" when considerations of all the variables to hit a flying target are put in the mix.

Log is on .. w/a couple of ricks stacked to the side.

A bud and I grew up laughing about that 600 yd mule deer thing & comparing it in some kind of dianoetic parallel to Herter's catalogue claims.

It is great to read all of the posts talking about shooting ethics. It reminds me of The Shooting Sportsmans piece on just that subject. I myself have never counted the number of birds that I have shot and failed to retrieve or paced off a downed bird. I do know I have taken shots that I later wondered WHY? Then again I have made some of them that put a smile on my face as the dog returned with a long retrieve. I guess I am not perfect but then again I know I can agree on the basic ethics of the hunt. The one thing I hope is our stories over the camp fire or around the tailgate won't give the next generation a picture of hunting that doesn't include the pleasure of fine company, good dogs, and respect for our sport. Now its time to start planning the next hunt.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good hunt,,
Ron

Chuck, you're right about wounding being common with birds, and I posted here some time ago that if I were king I would permit hunting them only with dogs, elitest as it is. My buddy and I this year knocked down eleven blacks with one shot each, three over our limit of four blacks each of a bag of five, and within 15 seconds there were seven belly-up and four in 10 acres of bullrushes and reeds. Jake got them.

On Joe's point concerning ethical shooting, each has his own. Joe's aren't mine. To be critical in civil talk, however, is not to trash. Disssent is the gospel; where it is absent is my notion of hell. Canada and the United States are neighbours, friends, biggest trading partners but agree to disagree on many things where national interests are concerned. Canada developed differently because it wanted to be different from Americans.

Trashing another's opinion is immature, and censure of it is a distinguishing mark of this board.

Quite a feat...

I dunno what it was in 1981, but it's a gentlemens club today.

I bagged 7 mallards with one shot back in North Dakota in the fall of 1977. They were on the water and as I snuck up on them through the cattails; I just waited until they swam together and pulled the trigger. 2 were still swimming around in circles and needed a kill shot but when the smoke cleared, I had a lot of ducks to clean. You all know what a shotgun pattern looks like on the water, so you know its possible. 12 gauge Rossi overland with 28 in. tubes.

It was a feat, Joe. Many times before ice-up in December when our fathers had the dogs we youngsters would strip naked and swim for birds going nowhere on calm lakes. The three got-aways: one black came down, punched through and slid under ice that my dog couldn't get to and was too dangerous near a tide-rip for me; another bluebill got away in breaking water 200 yards from shore, diving as my dog reached it, and he would have drowned if I hadn't called him in, and the third, another black, was carried off by a bald eagle before Jake had finished his retrieves. All my Labs are named Jake. Needless to say, I'm a zealot about a dog's place in blind and field.

What a great sentence. The word dianoetic (proceeding to a conclusion by reason or argument rather than intuition)is new to me.

Jake

All of my most exemplary shots have been due to proper plan
ning and execution. It's some of the misses I can't explain. Amarillo Mike, where are you?

Not my shot but one of the most impressive I have witnessed. I was guiding a rodeo bronc rider for elk in the Alberta Rockies - late November 1992 if I recall correctly. Anyway I had been told that this young buck was a fine shot and tough as nails so we went looking for a big bull elk. We had ridden from spike camp about an hour before daybreak and were in some pretty likely high meadow country when we spotted a herd on a steep slope which stretched toward the sky above. The closest animals were a good 250 yards away. There was a 7 X 7 bull and before we could even dismount and before I could get make a good head appraisal the herd broke for a timbered gultch - they were plenty spooky but don't really think it was us that set them arunnin. The bronc rider quit leather in a blurry second dragging his gun from scabbord, ran 20 feet to the left, away from the trail, swung and fired at the bull which was on a full run. Even though the elk were a long ways off the horiznotal distance wasn't more than 150 yards. Well all h broke loose at the shot that bull came ass over rack just a tumbling down that slope - I counted 11 complete somersaults with that rack acting like a pivot point on every one. An avalanche of snow chased from behind and when that bull hit the bench above the trail he was airborne for 25 feet. He toboganned down the shallow slope below the trail towards a steep gully. Luckily just before he slipped over the edge his rack got caught is some heavy edge brush and that brought him to a halt. The bullet had caught him right below the right ear and of course brought instant death. After climbing that slope to recover pieces of antler broken during the tumble we broke for a smoke. I asked the bronc buster if he had head shot the elk on purpose - not good for trophy and too risky for most - he said actually yes - he practiced quite a bit on running coyotes and treated that elk's head just like he would a coyote.

Peter as soon as I get Joe's shooting straightened out I will have a slot open and I moved your name to the top of the list. I just discovered Joe was closing the wrong eye, I think he will make rapid progress now.

Mike

Mike, you say only close one eye?

I almost forgot about the time a guy and I were squirrel hunting...I was packing a Pre 17 .22 S&W, 6" round barrel with Micro sights. I really regret I parted with it.
As we approached a tall Poplar that a squirrel was cutting in I told my buddy to give me the first shot with my pistol and if I missed he could get him with his shotgun.
I got directly under the squirrel that was in the very tip top of the tree...took aim. At the shot a squirrel fell out of the tree and hit the ground a few feet from us....got up and ran away....my buddy was so shocked that he never fired a shot at it. I said "why didn't you shoot?" He replied..."I thought he was dead" I replied..."the one I shot is still hanging onto the limb" about that time he fell to the ground. Dead.

Lady Luck struck again.

I just did this 2 weeka ago.
I was hunting whitetails on a farm in Kansas. I was sitting behind a sizeable cedar along a steep creekside. I heard a deer trotting up behind me. It stopped and snorted. I jumped out from behind the cedar and all I saw was antlers.
The deer bolted up the hillside, heading out into the open prairie. The only shot presented was a Texas bulls-eye. I held my breath and waited. The seconds ticked slowly by. I kept waiting for an opportunity. At about 200 he turned ever so slightly to his left, offering a shallow angle on his left shoulder. I had the cross hairs on him the whole way as he ran up the hillside.
I touched it off, and chambered another round in the fluid style that is my nature. I never lost sight of my quarry during the recoil pulse. I never needed the second round. He was already down, his left leg stabbing out the staccato rhythm of death.
I walked up to the deer, he was stone dead. Plowed right into the Flint Hills pasture.
My round had been high, catching him below and behind the eye, exiting under the opposite. He'll go maybe 130, but the mount was ruined.

It has been said that the first liar doesn't stand a chance in camps I have been in. So, I have held off in fear of ridicule and distain for an unplanned shot till now. Two years ago while hunting around Great Falls I spooked a nice two point out of his bed. He had been in a thicket below me in the bottom of a coulee. As he headed up the coulee wall on the opposite side I took a shot( later marked at 125yd). I worked the bolt as I realized I had missed. My next shot was lined up on the back bone and with a little lead I pulled the trigger. I stood there in disbelief, the buck was gone from sight. If I shoot I always check the area out just in case I didn't miss. I hiked down and thru the coulee and up the other side. Thinking the deer had made a descent into the next coolee I continued walking. Low and behold I spotted the buck. I was proud of myself thinking how my trap shooting had payed off. The buck was on his belly with legs streched out as if hit in full stride. Pleased with myself I prepared to field dress the little guy. I grabbed one antler to help roll him over. What a surprise when I realized the skull was shattered and the antlers were independent of one another. Upon looking a little closer I found my shot had hit just below the left ear and exited between the eyes. Later when the work was done my companion loaned me his range finder. The distance was 185 yards. I was intending on a back shot. I still blame the deer for the poor placement. If he hadn't jumped that one last time...Oh well. Open country hunting offers many chances and it is unlikely I will do this again, but for now it is a good memory. Good hunting,
Ron

We all seem to think that long shots with a scattergun are something of a feat - how about the short shot?

I used to hunt a lot with my Dad's pal. He used a 30" full-choke semiauto which shot some very tight patterns, would kill ducks at longest ranges efficiently. Yet, just about every time as we walked to and from the duck holes, we would flush a few korostels* - they are very small birds and they would flush at about 10 paces, fly for 20 or 25 meters and land. My dad's pal was fond of there birds and as soon as one took off, he would nail it before I could get my gun to shoulder. He never missed, which isn't exactly a feat, but what surprised me that the birds were never broken. For all I knew about shotguns, a korostel ought to be turned to minced meat if shot at that distance with that gun. "How do you do it" - I asked (I knew he used no spreaders) - "I just shoot just enough off the bird to get it with side pellets" - he said. And trust me, he meant it!

______
* Oops, don't know no English for that bird. Sorry... Its Latin name is Crex Crex... could someone please tell me what it's called in English?

I googled 'Crex Crex" and came up with "Corncrake" as the English name.
Pete

Thanks, HD & Pete. I had to look for corncrake, it is not a bird found in N. America. Found this link with a photograph & bit of interesting information ..

http://www.uksafari.com/corncrakes.htm

Geno posted a video of he and a red setter? hunting corncrakes.
Back when "Steel powder" was first on the market, I loaded up some fancy shells for hunting teal.
They were 1800+ fps, and loaded with #6 steel. 3/4oz as I recall. I sat at the bench for hours spinning those devils up. I carefully sealed the ends with nail polish. The primers too. I even polished the brass (just for looks). I was so proud of my new, high performance, handloads.
Well, I go duck hunting and stuff a couple up the chute. In comes a knot of bluewings. Now's my chance! They are twisting and spinning and rising up and down. They reminded me of powder blue blackbirds in a whorl. They bore down on me like a freight train. I rose to take the lead bird, and Ka-Booom! Off goes my shotgun with a tremendous roar, and an acrid plume of smoke. About knocked me on my keister.
I recomposed myself for a second shot (the recoil had been herculean) but I couldn't see the ducks any more.
I looked out into my spread, and low and behold, all 6 were doing the back stroke in the decoys. There were feathers all over the place. It looked like a pillow fight gone bad with Grandma's lapis lazuli featherbed thrown into the fray.
The feathers were mostly blown off the birds, pre-plucked I'd call them. When I cleaned my delicious prizes, I only found pellets in the two lead birds. The rest seemed to have died either from collision, or percussion.
Since that time, my friends have called my special swatter loads "Pluckers", as they seem never to penetrate, but tear handfuls of feathers off every bird shot with them.

Perhaps after a couple nogs this afternoon, I'll regail you lads with a story about my special shells known as "Shredders".

What, you guys don't have any stories on Christmas eve? Worried about coal in your stocking?

How's this one?

I have potted rooks off Glenthorne Manor. That's right. The very same.
I can offer evidence, as I mistakenly left tuna cans, Pabst Blue Ribbon bottles, and the remnants of a bucket of KFC along the path cut through the silvery wood. A regrettable development, as unfortunately, I had to make a hasty retreat mid luncheon.
I narrowly escaped detection by the Laird himself! I immediately recognized him, as he was driving a minivan accompanied by a couple of labradors. He stopped near a fen, and tumbled from the luxurious Chrysler.
There was no mistaking him, as he wore a jaunty Borcelino, a faded tweed Jacket, and smoked very strong smelling cigarettes.
I hid in some bushes, and could hear the jingling of the famous "unlucky cartridges" in the pocket of his well worn tweed coat. They must be very lonesome by now. He swept past me striding with great purpose, carrying "The Beaseley" broken over his arm. I was stricken by fear and awe. I was convinced I was either in a Laudnum taupor, or an opium dens dream room. It was like seeing Jacob Marley clanking across my bedroom post a meal of kimchi and port poached green pears.
Thank God I was down wind, as I'm sure the Labs would have licked me to ribbons if they had caught my scent.
When the danger of detection had passed, I regathered my wits, and stole quickly off the grounds, my pair of rooks, and succulent coney secreted in my poachers bag.

I stewed the rooks in an old iron pot, accompanied by a melange of root vegetables, and a snifter of cognac. I celebrated my good fortune, and enviable powers of cloaking as I stretched out before my fire, PBR in one hand, and Borkum-Riff stoked cobby in the other.

Merry Christmas.

A couple more anecdotes. A good dog can turn a "miss" into a great shot. I was at the end of a "death march" through a long swamp in the dead of winter. Every other step I'd fall through ice between swamp grass tufts. Must have taken 2 hrs to go not even half a mile. At the end, where the stream gets into the woods a single cock got up, a 50 yd L4 presentation. Both barrels done - see absolutely no sign of a hit. No twitch, no feathers. My female (Clown 2) starts chasing it - and would not return to command. It must have been 15 degrees, but I was sweating and pissed. I sat down on a stump with Clown 1 and ventilated...at his expense. 15 minutes later Clown 2 becomes visible a quarter mile distant. Soon after I can see she has a bird. There was one single hole in the center of that bird's heart.

On another occasion, in about the same place, my buddy and I were in deeper snow. The dogs took off and we couldn't keep up. Bird goes up maybe 125 yds off. Well, we had about had it, so emptied our guns, shooting directly into the sun. We clearly missed. But the bird was flying into the sun, too. Now about 250 yds away from us we watched in amazement as the bird flew head first into a dead tree. In seconds the dog pack was all over it. We looked at each other and simultaneously voiced: "dumbass". No pellets in the bird, of course.

Sam

I often wondered who that other hunter was that day...I covered myself with leaves and Laird almost stepped on me.

Chuck H., it was then too, and for many years before that.

KB: There is some historical basis for saying the reason America and Canada developed differently was that Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamiltion were a few men short and stimied by weather when they made a move against a key British position two centuries ago. The real question is whether Canada would be any different today had the French not lost the Battle of Quebec--yet won the war of words. C'est la vie!

A good read on te topic is America: A Citizen's Guide by Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert (of The Colbert Report, and Canadian, I think). While a humourous account of American governemt in action (or inaction), there are numerous sidebars by one Samatha Bee explaining how Canadians are different. According to Samantha, "The story of America's independance from England is very well known, but did you know that Canada was once part of the British empire? It's true! We Canadians threw off the same British yoke as you, only we took a more leisurely route to liberation. In fact, you might say we've been 'declaring' our 'independance' for more than 200 years. Kind of...I'm sorry if this in any way seems like I'm bragging."

My wife Nancy and I have spent the past 36 years knocking about in our various sailbosts, living in an international community of like minded long-distance sailors on both sides of the big pond. Consequently most of our friends are non-Americans, and of this group, Canadians predominate. Socializing in the netrual venue of the Carribean six-on-and-six-off is quite different from taking a quick jaunt just across our mutual border. My observation of Canadians is that the Anglos and Americans are almost indistinguishable except for an occasional flaw of diction: "Ooot and abooot" via Toranto; Cha-kah-gah and "Dah Bears" from our second city; and the usual east coast afflictions of "Baastan" and New Yaak." And, of course, references to the "Great White" are lost on newbie American sailors.

The Quebecois are a mixed story; some fly the Quebec flag to the exclusion of the Maple Leaf, much to the consternation of Anglos and some French Canadians who do not wear their langauge on their sleaves. And often much to the consternation of the French nationals who actually have a Cabinet-Level department that perscribes usage that's legal, and there's even a National holiday to celebrate the French language.

In other words, true Frenchmen... OK, and Frenchwomen...wait, Frenchpersons Huh? I'll try again: Frenchmen and Frenchpersdaughters hear Canadian French as somewhat like Splanglish--neither fish nor fowl. To quote Samantha Bee on the topic: "One neat thing about Canada is that all our government business is conducted in both French and English, because a small minority of Canadians, called 'Quebecious,' never wanted to learn English, and we thought it was rude to ask them to. But the good news is that everyone has to learn French! Though actually, it's not really French, it's a regional patois that actual French people despise." Again, this is the Canadian counterpoint in a book about America authored by a Canadian. I'm not making this up!


Yet from my view, most Canadians are more like Americans than one would think, especially when removed to a mutually foreign port. I recall back in the early 1980s when our kids were aboard and they were our socializers; their friends' parents became our friends, and sometimes the kids would have to interpet for their parents who could not communicate in English. This blew me away; I had thought the language thing was completely political, but today I think all our French Canadian friends are up to speed on the language that greases the skids everywhere. Or so it seems, and thus Canadains have more or less morphed to the American template, just as we, too, have lost our regional distinctions. The thick Southern Drawl is history.

I'll give the parting shot on the differences between Canada and America to Samantha Bee. She describes the Canadian media as being different in-so-far as the CBC is government funded to produce public interest programming--sort of like our PBS. The difference is the lack of non-government programming and the "Canadian Content Laws" to: "...protect our essential 'Canadian-ness,' which we usually define as listing the ways we aren't American...[but]...honestly, looking back, I don't think the differences were substantial enough to justify this essay." And I agree, EDM

EDM

Lucky

Almost 30 years ago I was forced to shoot a Brown Bear. It was charging and I had no where to run, not that I could have outrun him anyways. I had a Win. 270 with a 3X9 scope cranked all the way up to 9X. Dumb. First saw him at less than 60 yards away and he was already charging straight at me. Spent five or ten minutes it seemed trying to find him in the scope. Another five minutes to figure out that I was looking at his eye. One shot and he dropped at less than 30 yards with the bullet entering just to the mid-line of his eye and exiting out the rear of his skull. Truth is that the entire event may have been six or seven seconds, but it seemed like much more. Traded the .270 later as every time I shot the gun it brought back bad memories.

Had I had more time, I should have tried for a warning shot to break the charge, but I did not have time enough to think about what I should or could do. I saw, mounted, pointed, focused, pulled the trigger and shook for more than a half hour later. Scared does not cover my feelings at the time.

Long shot, Luck shot,

While a teen, I was out crow shooting with my buddy. We had no luck that morning and spotted a crow way across a field. With my trusty .22, 2 X 7 scope, I calmly called a shot at over 250 yards. Held four feet into the stiff wind and had over three feet hold over. Shooting the cheapest bullets that I could afford at the time. One shot, two or three seconds later the bullet seemed to make a solid thunk and the crow fell over stone dead. Made my buddy walk over and get my bird. We had a bet for a six pack of beer and back in those days that was like gold.

There's lots there for some good talk about what makes Canadians Canadian and Americans American, Ed. The thought that appealed to me was whether Canada would be any different today had the French not lost on the Plains of Abrahams. On the evidence, if Napoleon had been astride the continent from the Arctic to the Gulf of Mexico, it could have been a different North America today.

Your thoughts miss an important point, though: Americans fought their bloodiest war to keep their country together, and the French exhausted thermselves with countless republics, communes and emperors. Canada sort of muddled through with moderation, a sense of proportion and compromise to keep their country together, one of the oldest and most stable democracies in the world.

As the world's second-oldest federation, Canada has been a less disruptive force in world affairs than most of the European big nations, with a system of government that endured while theirs did not, and a record second to none in defending its values when fascism, with the most skilful and powerful military in history, started throwing its weight around.

Canadians are a different people, of both French and English descent, from Americans, historically and from your own observations among your Canadian friends in the Caribbean. Canada sees a greater public role in protecting the vulnerable and innocents of society. A tenth the population of the US, it has no overseas ambitions but honours its military commitments.

As for Quebec, which is defined by our federal government as a nation within Canada, it's the second-biggest French-speaking TV and radio production centre in the world, and its people a cultural jewel. Canada's multicultural policies are under strain, as they are everywhere, but envied by the world. French is an official language. Immersion courses in English Canada can't keep up with demand.

And, finally, there's our independence, Ed. We live next to a giant but we don't do lying low. We have a different system of government. When our prime minister loses the confidence of the Commons, he's out. They say we're polite and dull. All I know for sure is that all across Canada it's a white Christmas this year. Merry Christmas, to you and Nancy, from Nancy and me.

Thanks a lot!

I knew a guy in Canada that only lOst three ducks in his whole life....

Joe, I'll bet there are many gunners who've done as well shooting only over decoys with retrievers in their blinds. Good dogs make the difference. Ask any grouse hunter how many birds they've lost with a dog. If you were to ask me, it's zero, zilch, none. I won't hunt without a dog. Watching a dog do what he lives to do is more than the shot to me.

Last year I was invited to join friends to hunt ducks and was surprised that there wasn't a dog among them. I didn't shoot. Three crippled woodies escaped up a small brook enclosed by alders, brambles and thorns. Their loss wasn't mentioned in later conversations about the hunt. It was disgusting. It's not sport to me. Nor would I think to you.

Regards, King. And season's greetings on this special day to you.

Joe, I don't know what kind of gunning you're doing in Tennessee but an analogy of shooting from a blind around here, particularly on snowy days, would be like hiding behind the fountain or reception for the mallards to walk out on those plush red carpets in the lobby of the Peabody Hotel. Not quite, of course, but chances of a crippled bird getting away from a Lab are immeasurably less than a mallard getting out those doors.

King,

I am either awestruck by your record of losing only 3 ducks in a lifetime of gunning, or when something seems to good to be true, well you know.

Any reasonable person knows, and acknowledges that in gunning for any fowl, birds will be mortally hit, and show no sign of it, and be completely unrecoverable, to no fault of the sportsman.

You my friend, have wounded and lost more than three ducks in your lifetime, dog or none. You cannot reasonably think that if you accidently killed more blacks on the morning mentioned than meant with your volley, that you have not also been the fault of a stray pellet into an adjacent duck in a flock to the one you later plucked.

And it is ok.

FS

Considerable wisdom in that quote...Geo

Forrest, your point is reasonable. For every action there are unexpected or unrealized results, where fate seems pitiless, beyond our control. One morning I shot at a black hanging right over the tollers that flew off into a bright blue mid- morning sky. Three hundred metres away it set its wings and made a steep glide into two feet of crusted snow on the edge of a marsh. Another time, when limits were generous, my buddy and I shot 16 bluebills, all dead on the water without a cripple among them, and the bluebills circled back twice out of range. We watched the flock until it disappeared in the distant sky, all strong of wing. I can only vouch for my experience of scrupulous retrieving of birds which was as much of our shore culture as making a living from the sea. Your point is valuable as wildlife everywhere seems under strain. Thanks.

When I was in my late teens I used to do a lot of hunting with a boy named John Simmons. He used an old 20 gauge single barrel that had been blown up at the muzzle then sawed off so it had absolutely no choke. He was a good shot, and I've seen him kill a lot of game with that old gun. Two particular shots he made come to mind. One was a dove he killed while we were out rabbit hunting. I don't know what even possessed him to shoot at the bird but it was so far away that it was just short of a speck flying over the next field. He raised the gun, threw a long slow lead on it, fired, and it fell dead. We paced it off as best we could and it was something like 100 steps. Just luck of course, a Golden BB for certain, but he did kill it. Another time we were shooting starlings coming into roost. He fired once into a bunch that were flying over at about 40 yards and killed eleven, most of them falling dead. I've shot starlings doing the same thing a 100 times and never killed over two or three at a shot.

Flighting geese in Aberdeen, Scotland I saw the guide (Ian Robertson) kill birds on a regular basis at 70+ yards. He shoots a Browning automatic, with 3 inch Winchester #4 shells. To knock them down that far you've either got to break a wing or hit them in the head and he can do it. He shoots the #4 shot because he says with more pellets you've got a much better chance for a head shot. We were shooting 8 gauge guns and couldn't do what he did with a 12 gauge.

As far as my personal best shots:

I killed a mallard drake on a driven duck shoot in England with a double 4 bore at something like 70+ yards. I'd have never fired at one so far but the owner of the gun was standing with me coaching on that the big gun would do.

Back in my goose guiding days, I killed a goose with an old Richland double 10 gauge at 74 steps. My paid hunters had fired on it and lightly hit it but the bird wasn't coming down. I figured I'd better throw some shot just to see if I couldn't get it on the ground. I grabbed up my gun after they were empty, fired one shot, and folded it. Only after I'd crawled out of the pit did I realize how far away it was. They were impressed. I know when to quit as well, I never raised my gun again that day.

Nothing too great, but still fun memories.

Destry, JO'C mentioned a never-miss guy in his Shotgun Book who shot no-choke and a former wizard on this board told me that he always used no-choke. I haven't the courage to do it. Over decoys, it should be pure poison.

I was shocked how well Cyl worked once I tried it. Inside of 30 yards you just can not beat it. Its my preference for shooting wild roosters over my springers. Someone will be along soon to comment upon how it just can't be done.
Steve

I posted this one not so long ago and someone took offense. But since we're tellin stories....

The last shot of the last day of my hunting of the 2006-2007 quail season, while in the drizzling mist, I took a shot at a quail crossing in front of me across an open field at about 65 yrds. The bird fell at 75 yrds. The shot was with my Lefever Nitro Special .410

I've shot decoying ducks with a cylinder bore gun and heavy loads of 7 1/2 shot. You're right, it is pure poison if they're close. My main duck gun is improved cylinder in the right and extra full in the left though, I prefer a little choke personally.


Destry

Funny thing about all those "golden bb" shots. I told one above about my brother. Now I will tell one of mine and a comment. Course, since it is mine, it has a bit of larceny in it. (I would never do anything like that again, I promise. Young and dumb.) Anyway.

Pheasant hunting in Idaho as a young man. We shot out of the car at times. (Yea, we were bad.) And, truth is, I got pretty good at it. Used an 1100 3" mag. with Fed. Premium #4 copper.

That day, had a crazy (and probably more than slightly drunk) Texan driving the truck. We were in a plowed field and driving rather fast across the rows chasing a big bunch of roosters which had gathered as they do late in the season. Those roosters thought they were safe (and they should have been). Wind was blowing about 30 mph. Anyway, on a bounce between jolts, I got my body out of the window and killed a rapidly downwind flying rooster stone dead a LONG WAY off. Undoubtedly in excess of 100 yards.

After the shot the drunk Texan kept whooping that it was the best shot he had ever seen. And, he added that it was "a lucky shot." I pointed out to him at the time, and that is my point here, sure its lucky. It is also a PERFECT point. All those "golden bbs" have to have a perfect point.

Oh, the shame of my youth.

Regards, Jake

The thing to keep in mind is the ability to make a "Lucky" one pellet kill does not depend upon gauge, choke, amount of shot in the load & only to a very, very small extent to the velocity of the load. What is required is that one pellet hits a vital spot with enough force to penertrate to the vital area. To reliable & consistantly make kills at a given range is a totally diferent proposition & requires a dense enough pattern to ensure a vital area being hit. Those who intentionally & habitually shoot at ranges beyond their guns patterning ability on the "Hopes" of making a one pellet kill are "PooR" sportsmen indeed. I realize most everyone who has ever gone afield has taken an occasional shot they shouldn't have. A few have been "Lucky" kills , most have been "Assumed" misses. Countless birds have flown on away with a single pellet buried in their Guts.

I guess I've had two memorable "long shots" (distance or percentage) in my 67 years:

Back when I was 15 in 1954, and my fowling piece was a Stevens .22/.410 O/U, my father ran a warehouse in Franklin Park Il, and behind the loading ramps was a small dry pond area that looked likely. After a full day's work this boss's son took his peashooter out back, while a few curious secretaries, salesmen, and about a dozen warehousemen stood on the loading docks not expecting much. As luck would have it, a rooster got up and I luck shot him dead in the air--my first pheasant. There was a loud "Whooop!" and a round of applause. I was hero for the day.

A couple of years ago, having had not much luck with my bow and arrow for deer, I was reduced to using my 870 Sabot during gun season. A doe ran past my tree stand at full tilt at about 25 yards and I missed; then she stopped right-broadside at 65 yards and I took a more well-considered second shot, but she ran off again on a radis to present herself again right-broadside at 65 yards in the cornfield. I tried to squeeze off another shot, but nothing! I realized that I had not pushed the pump grip completely forward, did so and tried again, the third shot being the charm. She fell over on her left side. The entry wound on the right side (up) was perfectly located. I field dressed her, pulled her into my truck bed, hauled her to my shed and hung her for a week. Wife Nancy was steadying the carcass as I pulled off the hide when she commented about "two holes." But they were on the left side! A quick look at the right side showed a single slightly egg-shaped entrance wound--two shots at 65 yards with an open sights shotgun perfectly placed, through no fault of my own.

My duck hunting buddy Destry aka Markethunter has as many stories as someone twice his age ought to have, but he forgot to tel this board about his double on mergansers down at Delacroix LA a few years ago. Never fear, they will be in my new book--Parker Guns: Shooting Flying and the American Experience--so that such "long shots" are not soon forgoten. And then there was the "grinnin' mallard"...which reminds me of the hooker in the casino attached to our motel.

As I recall she told Destry that she'd do "anything" for fifty bucks. I distinctly heard Destry incredusouly say, "Anything?", as he escorted her out of the bar. I figured I'd better stay away from our room for a while, but Destry appeared a short 5 minutes later. According to Destry, she said, "Anything," so he had her plucking our ducks. EDM

2-piper, I absolutely agree with you. I expect most of us do. Jake

I have had 2 very lucky long shot kills this year. While dove hunting I was using my 12 ga M21 that had just been repaired. I was really testing the gun to make sure it was OK for the duck season. There were no doves flying. Finally one flew by way out there and I shot at it. It folded dead at a measured 70 paces. Then last Sunday I was duck hunting with the same M21 and there were no ducks flying. I was very frustrated. Then a drake mallard landed in the pond quite some distance from the blind and my decoys. I was hoping he would swim closer upon seeing my decoys. No dice. Then a shot from another blind put the mallard up in the air. Out of frustration I shot and killed it dead at a measured 133 paces!

Miller,
I get your point. But, I'm willing to put dollars to donuts that more birds have flown away with pellets in them from a shot "within range" than the "occasional shot" beyond statistically lethal range. I believe that shooting "on wing", even "within range", is statistically a poor proposition, certainly on upland game.

Chuck;
You are undoubtably correct, I certainly would not argue your point. However the only way around that I am familar with is to totally give up shooting at live game, a situation most are not willing to do. While "On the Wing" certainly makes hitting more difficult, most birds are actually more vulnerable with their wings spread than folded, so even resorting to "Pot Shooting" would not totally resolve the problem.
What I was speaking of though is those folks who use large shot & intentionally fire at birds on which at best they can only hope to put one shot in & hope it hits a killing spot. These folks fire a large number of shots for each bird brought to bag & undoubtably for every one killed a higher number fly on carrying a shot in their bodies somewhere. This type of shooting is to me totally unacceptable. For those who do their level best to fire only at birds they have a reasonable expection of killing the only consolation I have for those which are lost, is that nothing which dies in nature is ever trully wasted, it will feed something or do some good in some way. This is however, no excuse for making shots which one does not have reasonable expectations of being successful.

Miller,
My point is that one man's ethical activity can be distasteful or even distainful to another. An outsider (big game hunter)looking in at shotgun on-wing hunting has told me that the low probability of kills to shots fired could in itself be construed as an indicator of the ethical/unethical nature of the activity. As we all know, many rounds are fired per bird bagged on average across the country. Maybe some of our members are high percentage shooters at wild game, but I'm not one of them. On wild quail, I can recall burning a couple boxes of shells to one 10 bird limit on many occasions. Some would say that my shooting might be bad, maybe unethically bad. Maybe they're right, maybe not. I call it enjoying my relatively difficult, legal, hunting. I just don't think we need to call the kettle black since all of us are practicing a shooting activity that we wound game with routinely, if we actually do it. BTW, someone told me they read that the national average for shells fired to dove taken is something like 7 shots to one dove.

A cold late November Day - most of the mallards and nearly all the geese had taken the southern freight. Still there were enough birds about to give cause to a final hunt on a local marsh. Sure enough a sizeable flock of mallards had determined to keep a pool of water open with their insistent paddling. There were at least 200 birds but they were wise to the hunter's ways and chosen a spot most inaccesible by foot and to get a boat to the marsh edge let alone busting ice for at least 300 yards was more challenge than I could choose to face. So my dog and I hunkered in the tall snow festooned reeds on the near side of the frozen shore hoping that at least a few birds would slip within range before joining their pals in the open pool. The 20 mph wind was from the north with both bark and bite and before long both the dog and I were thinking of warmer activities. Then the clarion call of a lone goose caught our attention, he was flying from the southwest towards the open water but very high - 50 yards at least - not a hope of a shot at this range. He passed over the mallard flock at 30 yards up then flew on towards the east until out of sight and my hearing of his cry. Thirty minutes passed - long minutes with only the occassional encouraging little flight coming within 100 yards of us. Still we sat immobile, hidden and freezing. Then to our ears came the cry of that same lone goose returning from his fruitless search for his brethern, again he passed over the open water but instead of turning to the south he continued to the west which would bring him right over us. He was 60 yards up and in full flight. I was carrying my ASEL that day and at the time it was choked .042 and .044 - never did pattern with a hoot with anything bigger than #3s and it was stoked with those in both barrels - tungsten matrix. On he came and when near ( if that word is at all appropiate ) but not quite overhead I swung the barrels through his form and with lots of what I perceived would be appropriate lead, pulled the front trigger. Hard hit his forward flight was stalled and near straight down he plummeted and me with time to center him with the second shot. Right through the ice he crashed only 20' from where we had awaited. Stone dead from the shot and the crash through the 1/2" of ice. My intrepid companion, my trusted dog ran across the ice surface grabbed that goose from the water hole and carried it back to me. The head neck and chest of the goose carried numerous shot. How far? I don't know but I hunt geese a lot and shoot quite a number so have some experience on which to base my estimation of range and he was at least 65 yards away when hit. Now some may say that the cold had effected my perceptions maybe so but I will always recall that shot as one taken with the opportunity a gift and a little earned.

Chuck and 2piper, I really think we are all in agreement that there is an ethical and moral obligation to kill cleanly. I, like 2piper, am rather disgusted by hunters who have not the slightest empathy or sympathy for their quarry.

Hell, my boy (12) and I hunted pheasants in South Dakota on a family farm this year where there was a dead deer, rotting away in a brushy bottom area. My boy apparently asked our guide's son about it. The boy (also 12) told him that the deer was "spooked" early in the pheasant season and ran from its rest straight into a hard to see metal pole and fell dead (or dying). They left it there rather than take it home because between son and dad, with bow, black powder, youth, etc. licenses, they only had nine deer permits and if they kept it they wouldn't be able to kill one of the nine. On top of that, their freezer full of deer meat was something they really didn't like or know how to cook. (To his credit, my boy recalled the story to me with disdain.)

For that matter, I remember reading when I was a lad that bow hunters only retrieve about 20% of the deer they shoot. I hate to think how many deer run off to die a slow miserable death with an arrow in their bodies. I have always had a bit of a bad taste in my mouth for bow hunting tales for want of the many, many we don't hear about.

Having said all that, this thread is about that one shot you recall from the past. I appreciate some of the stories. Even if the tellers wouldn't "try that again."

Best Regards, Jake