One Shot, One...

Today while shooting SKRAP (trying to hit wobble trap targets from skeet stations) with friends at the Southern Michigan Gun Club, I was listening to some rather “intense” rapid fire coming from one of the rifle ranges and started thinking about the benefits (or lack of) of rapid fire.

On the occasion that I got my first whitetail deer (Opening Day or November 15^th of 2003) someone was just blasting away with what I believe was an extended magazine shotgun, and from first light to 9:00 AM I heard this person shoot at least two strings of eight shots from it.

That was at least a bit unnerving, and today I wonder if that person was a card-carrying member of PETA just trying to keep deer out of harms way!

Anyhow, I just continued to consider the benefits of rapid fire versus deliberate or precise shooting, and remembered a scene from the film “River of No Return”, which besides featuring a wonderfully beautiful Marilyn Monroe, has one of the best dialogues on proper rifleman ship that I ever heard.

Matt Calder (Robert Mitchum) is teaching his son Mark (Tommy Rettig) how to shoot, and before Mark takes the first shot they have the following conversation:

Matt:    “What is important?”

Mark:   “To hit the target.”

Matt:    “When?”

Mark:   “The first shot.”

Matt:    “Why?”

Mark:   “Because I might not get another.”

If that is not the best and most concise lesson on rifleman ship ever, I don’t know where to find a better one.

To continue to pursue the point of accurate shooting versus “spray and pray” I also looked for some for some data on military snipers. Several years ago I read (don’t remember where) that during the Vietnam War on average 12,000 (that is right, twelve thousand) shots of small arms ammunition were required to cause an enemy casualty, while snipers had an average of 1.42 shots per “kill”, or 70% hit ratio.

Finally, I tried to recall my own record of big game hunting (which is not particularly extensive), and if memory serves me, I shot to date twenty-four animals from multiple species, at ranges varying from less than ten feet (alligator which I shot with a .38 Special revolver) to over 300 yards (a Kudu shot with a .30-06 rifle). The total number of shots that I fired at game was twenty-nine, which would result on average of 1.20 shots per kill, or 83% hit ratio.

In no way I want to compare myself favorably against military snipers. First, my shots are at much shorter distance; second, animals are not shooting back at me.

In the 1993 Gun Digest (47^th Annual Edition), Ken Warner, the editor at the time, made “A Modest Proposal” (page 6). Basically he proposed that the sportsmen should limit the amount of ammunition they bring afield as a way to either cure or prevent slob hunters.

The point is that we hunters, shooters and sportsmen are probably much better if we concentrate in being better shots than just increasing the amount of lead and other metals that we pour in our woods, fields and mountains.

This is not only safer and good for the environment, but also easier on our wallets and brings more game to our ladders.

Go Anywhere Gun Battery

Three guns to go anywhere

I really like firearms, and I must confess that I have more guns than I really need, but less than I would like to have, although my wife will only agree to the first part of this comment.

But many times I ask myself what would be the minimum gun battery that I could get by?

If I had to be very frugal or would have to explore new country; or take a long trip restricting my luggage to manageable size and weight; and yet have enough flexibility to hunt almost any game, survive for long periods and be able to defend myself, I narrowed down my choices to three firearms.

First and foremost would be a 12 gauge side-by-side shotgun with double triggers. Many people would say that they would do as well with a Remington 870 or other comparable pump shotgun, but let me explain the details of my first choice.

A double trigger side-by-side shotgun, hammerless or not, is effectively two guns into one. There is a separate locking mechanism and trigger for each barrel, so if one of them breaks down for some reason, you still can use the other half of the gun. Over-under shotguns could also be an option, but they are less common with two triggers and I like the way that side-by-side guns handle better.

Also, for the occasional or roaming hunter, the two barrels can be stuffed with different loads for small and big game. Load buckshot or slugs in the right (open choke) barrel and a charge of No. 6 birdshot in the left (tighter choke), and you are ready for just about anything in the American continent, provided that you can get within 40 yards or so. This would be effective protection even if traveling in bear country.

Another reason that I would select a 12 gauge double barrel shotgun instead of another action or smaller gauge is the flexibility that this platform provides. The 12 gauge can take a multitude of sub caliber devices that allow it to use a lot of different ammunitions. “Little Skeeters” (www.littleskeeters.com) are ones that I have experience with. They are basically a chamber within a chamber, and in a 12 gauge “break-up” shotgun you can use 20, 28 and 410 shells. There are many other similar devices, but these are simple and relatively low cost. Actually, anyone with a late and some aluminum bars could make such devices.

I also have an adaptor that allows me to shoot .22 Short, Long and Long Rifle from any break-open shotgun (I will cover than in detail in the future), and I have seen others in .22 Hornet, .38 Special and .45 Colt. I have a friend in Brazil that made a .38 Special sub caliber for one of his shotgun out of discarded carbine barrel. While my unit has an extractor and the point of impact can be adjusted, his home made version is bit more like the “Little Skeeters” mentioned above, but it works properly.

The final advantage of a shotgun is that is easy to reload its ammunition. Basically the only “store bought” components that you need are primers and some kind of gun powder. When I was a teenager growing up in Brazil I would use brass shot shell, black or smokeless powder, use old newspaper or even toilet paper for wads, and just about anything that fit the barrel for projectiles. If the intended prey was large game (in my case, capybaras) I would just look for some large sinkers from my dad’s fishing box, more or less fitting the bore and I had a new slug load in less time than it takes to write this. I could keep all my reloading supplies in a small zip lock bag.

Next gun would be a .22 LR carbine because it is light, quiet, easy to use, the ammunition is cheap and low weight (a brick of 500 .22 LR cartridges probably weights less than a couple boxes of 12 gauge shot shells).

In a survival situation it is most likely that you will see a lot more small game than big animals, and the .22 LR is about as perfect a small game round as any. But the .22 LR can take even large game (although that is probably not legal anywhere in the US and Canada), and I once killed a 1,600 pound Brahma bull with a single .22 bullet to the forehead.

My personal choice for .22 LR ammunition is the solid bullet. In order to preserve edible meat in small game animals we should take head shots, and for larger game in survival situations (please, remember that rimfire ammunition is generally illegal for big game animals) we need all the penetration that we can get from such a small bullet.

The exact model and action of the .22 carbine is a matter of personal preference. The old Winchester Model 62 and similar rifles that can accommodate .22 Short, Long and Long Rifle would be a plus. My personal choice is a Browning 22 Auto for a couple reasons. It is a classic design, light and reliable, easier to scope than the Model 62 and I already have one.

The other important characteristic is that, like the Model 62, The Browning 22 Auto is a take down rifle, just like almost all double barrel shotguns. This means that the long guns can be disassembled and transported in a ruck sack or backpack. Many times being inconspicuous is an advantage.

I would strongly recommend a robust scope in your rifle as bullet placement is the most crucial aspect of bringing game down, especially with the limited power of a .22 rimfire. My rifle has a 2½ power Lyman, but I would be as happy with a 4X or 6X unit provided it is not bulky.

The final component of my “minimum gun battery” would be a handgun, and the main reason is that it can be carried in a holster all the time while keep your hands free for other shores.

Having at least one gun always attached to your body is not a bad idea. During the late Coronel Roosevelt’s expedition “through the Brazilian wilderness”, and after their party had split in two, the naturalist Mr. Fiala and his team capsized their canoes and lost almost their gears and our their guns, and had a lot of trouble securing food through hunting afterwards. A revolver in the holster and a dozen or so additional bullets would mitigate this problem.

Modern auto loading pistols are completely reliable, but my personal choice would be a revolver. I am a traditionalist at heart, revolvers are very robust and much more flexible is digesting different bullets and loads, and they keep the fired cases inside the cylinder chambers so it can be reloaded later.

The specific revolver choice, especially regarding caliber, would depend on your “environment” or location. For general use I believe that the .38 Special is hard to beat. The ammunition is available almost anywhere, powerful enough for personal defense and medium sized game, and easy to reload. Off course, a .357 Magnum could be an alternative, but I personally don’t see the benefit.

A nice point about the .38 Special (and .357 Magnum) is that you can reload it with 9 mm Parabellum, 380 ACP or 38 Super components. Also, the .38 Special takes a lot less powder per shot than the .357 Magnum.

If you are in a “low intensity” scenario, than a .22 revolver would probably fit most of your needs. It can’t be reloaded, but it shares the ammunition with your rifle, and you can carry a lot of it, with reasonable low weight.

However, if I were in big bear country, I probably would choose a .44 Magnum. I have a very nice Smith & Wesson Model 29 in almost mint condition, and a Ruger Bisley single-action, and the later would be elected to go rough. The Ruger is very robust and is probably the most affordable .44 Magnum in the market, used or new.

Most common pistol calibers can be reloaded with a “Lee Loader” (www.leeprecision.com) that weights less than a pound and costs less than forty bucks. With a bit more money you can add a bullet mold to it.

Although shotgun and pistol ammunition takes different primers, they will generally use the same type of fast burning powder. A couple hundred primers and a pound or two of gun powder should fit in your long-term travel or survival bag. Lead can be scavenged if you are creative enough.

My choices are not particular high tech or tactical. The guns that I selected for my minimum battery are time proven, robust, available and affordable. They can be used for many hunting and survival situations, or just for plain fun. You probably can put together a similar kit that fits your specifically needs with firearms that you already own.

Chasing Cougar Over 30 Years

Original illustration by Ralf Birch

Imagine a child that wants to take possession of a treasure, and as simple as a child’s treasure can be, they can be unachievable, owned by giants, guarded by tradition.

Imagine now that same child, having crossed oceans, explored continents, still loving the same giants, and unsuspecting of the passing of time, suddenly coming across the once much desired treasure.

I already told you about the farmhouse I grew in and about the 1960’s vintage cabinet that there was in the front guest room and some of the treasures that it contained, one of them a paper box that once encased a hunting knife.

Ivete was a close friend to my mother that sometimes would visit us at the farm. Ivete worked at the “Casa Bardaro” in Ribeirão Preto, a very traditional hardware and home appliances store that did not survive the turbulent evolution of the Brazilian economy during the 1980’s.

On one of her visits, in the early 1970’s, Ivete presented my father, who at the time was a dedicated outdoorsman, with a hunting knife. This knife was made by Mundial, a large Brazilian cutlery that unhappily no longer makes sport knifes, and had a design inspired on some Puma skinners, and was aptly named Cougar.

Although a cougar is a puma by any other name, and vice-versa, this Cougar knife had a distinct personally. The blade is forged from high carbon steel and then hard chromed; the handles or scales are some kind of Brazilian hardwood and a long leather tong passed through an eye on the tang. A leather sheath accompanied the knife. I remember an occasion when my father took this knife on a duck hunt and lost it on his way back to the truck and then backtracked through the swamp until he found it.

But if the Cougar knife was attractive its paper case was fascinating. On the cover there was a picture of a high power bolt-action scoped rifle and some bottlenecked cartridges on top of a jaguar or leopard pelt.

All these things were rare and exotic for a child in my situation. Brazilian gun laws being restrictive as they have always been and American or African big spotted cats also not being available around the corner (not that there were many street corners in the farm) made my imagination take off. Compound that with a healthy dose of Tarzan comic books and movies and stories generously supplied by my grandfather and you may see me flying from our farm to the jungles of Mato Grosso and from there, to the savannahs of Africa.

But children are careless with their treasures and one day that box disappeared and the knife submerged in some obscure kitchen duty and the years went by.

Just before Christmas of 1999 we visited our family farm in Goiás state, central Brasil, just weeks before I relocated to the Netherlands with my wife and children and as I snooped around drawers and cabinets I found that Cougar knife, rusted, broken tip but never forgotten. I took it to the shop, cleaned all the rust, reshaped the blade and sharpened it until it could cut as well as a cougar can bite and let my father know I just had taken possession of a treasure.

During the short three years that we lived in the Netherlands I used the Cougar intensively, special on barbecues and when we again relocated to the United States it came along with us.

But since the world is full of surprises this story is not over yet.

One Saturday on the summer of 2004 I was looking things around at a gun show in Kalamazoo, Michigan, when coming on to a table I saw a card box with the picture a high power scoped rifle and some bottlenecked cartridges on top of a jaguar or leopard pelt and inside it a brand new Cougar knife.

After asking for the price of the knife I paid the amount so fast I must have frightened the seller. I had to be quick or Cougar could get away.

Clearly, that gentleman did not know that he had a treasure on his hands. A treasure that, after 30 years, I now own.

Note from author:

This feature was first published as part of my book “A Wild Beast at Heart” (www.publishamerica.com, ISBN-10 1424147212) in 2006. During the launch ceremony of my second book “Caçadas: Estórias e Outras Mentiras” my friend Eloir Mário Marcelino and Colonel Trajano, both passionate hunters, book collectors and internet scroungers were telling me that they were able to locate several Cougar knives at “Mercado Livre” and other internet shopping sites, and that both had bought a couple each. I understand that Cougars are commanding a premium price, and I am very happy to have mine well guarded for “ future generations”.

A Neighbor's Gift

My father bought the farm “Buriti do Retiro” in the municipality of Morrinhos, southern Goiás state, central Brazil, in 1978, and at that time Goiás had quite a bit of “frontier” on it. We even faced some cattle rustling, and that was solved with a good barbeque party and the proper guest list (but that is another story).

Both my parents were fully licensed lawyers that could practice anywhere in Brazil (my mother still holds her license), but neither ever made a cent practicing law. My mother was a teacher and my father a farmer, and they only did some eventual pro-bono law work. It may appear strange, but that was their case.

We had an elderly neighbor that had a small property (that we eventually bought many years later) that got in a legal dispute for whichever reason with another much larger labor, but could not afford to hire a lawyer. As he risked losing his homestead, he asked for help and my father accepted to represent him.

I don’t know the details, but my father won the case, and when the old gentleman tried to pay him some amount, my father refused to receive any compensation.

One evening sometime later the old gentleman came visiting and brought a gift to my father, the skull and antlers of a “veado-campeiro” (Ozotocerus bezoarticus). The literal translation of veado-campeiro, a superbly beautiful animal, is field-deer or prairie-deer, as it typically occurs in more open or tree-less environments, different than the brocket deer that inhabits quite heavy brush and forests.

The typical veado-campeiro rack is a 3x3, and the gift that we received was exceptionally well formed and symmetric, and I would say of above average size. When we received it, the skull still had some dried skin attached to it, and there were glass marbles in the eye sockets, held in place by cotton balls.

In his typical unselfish way my father mentioned that the gift was very nice, but not necessary, and that the old gentleman did not own him anything, and that he just had helped a neighbor and a friend.

The old man insisted that my father should accept the trophy deer skull, and before leaving he finally said that it would not be proper for him to keep it anyhow, since he had poached it from our own farm.

In Uruguay...Once Again

The author and Ray Cato

Once again I am having the opportunity to hunt in Uruguay with JP Cacerias (jpdacosta@netgate.com.uy), and this afternoon my friend Ray Cato and I hunted perdiz (Nothura maculosa).

We had a most enjoyable afternoon, and besides watching some excellent dog work, we also got some birds and sent many more off with “two-gun” salutes.

The perdiz is the princess of the upland birds, and they occur in very high numbers in Uruguay, even this late in the hunting season, while the queen (at least in South America) is the much larger, but very similar in appearance, Martineta or Perdigão (Rhynchotus rufescens), but the later bird is protect in Uruguay and unhappily cannot be hunted.

Today I used a Stoeger/Boito/ERA 28-gauge side-by-side, and shot Spanish made ¾ ounces 7 ½ shells to shoot a 10 bird limit on perdiz, and for an inexpensive Brazilian made shotgun, it performed amazingly well. All birds that I hit fell hard, and the many that I missed were entirely my fault.

Hunting perdiz with a side-by-side 28 gauge shotgun is almost a soul searching experience, as this is what my father used to do. I probably will never come close to his 82% hit ratio, but just being able to enjoy the same bird with what is my opinion the best balanced gauge for upland hunting is a great reward.

By the way, JP Cacerias offers some of the greatest and most affordable upland bird hunting anywhere in the world, even if you include the airfare to come down to Uruguay. This trip was a last minute arrangement and I will only be here for three days, but the afternoon was so pleasant that it was worth coming.

The day could not have been prettier, and tomorrow morning we will go after doves and we will let you know how we did.

Just a Fine Evening

Young and Stupid

Yesterday evening I arrived home after a long drive from Guelph, Canada, and as my family is way and my dog in the cannel, there was no reason to be home alone, so I got my gear and drove go the Southern Michigan Gun Club, just minutes away.

To my surprise the clubhouse, skeet and trap fields were closed, and only the Mattawan scholastic group was present at the Five-Stand, so I left the club and drove to On Target Guns & Gunsmithing (www.ontargetgunstore.com), a place where I can always get some good conversation.

Within minutes of my arrival Eric Weeldreyer, one of the owners, invited me to have dinner at this home with his family. The venison “Sloppy Joes” were fantastic!

After dinner Eric took me around his property, where he grew up, and showed me some of the stands where he collected quite an impressive collection of whitetail deer.

Eventually I had to leave to go on some errands, and in my way home I had a very pleasant surprise. Just before getting to my subdivision, coming from Almena Drive, we need to cross a small “Whisky Run Creek”, and I generally slow down, as this is a very used deer crossing.

As I came down the hill there were two young whitetail bucks with their small antlers covered in velvet, not ten feet from the road. I stopped the car, turned on my emergency lights, and took several pictures. Then I asked the deer to get away from the road so they would cause no accidents.

It was almost as if I was not there. They just ignored me and continued grazing on the lush riverine plants. Finally I lost my patience and showed them away, with about the same success as Meryl Streep’s character in “Out of Africa”, and it was just in time as other cars were coming.

The popular saying is that “bucks don’t grow old and big by being stupid”, which is something that these two youngsters have not learned yet.

Anyhow, I hope that these young bucks are a good omen for a good 2012 deer season in "the land of the free".


Have a nice Independence Day!

Old Ways Die Hard

Almost twins

Since 2004 I had the privilege and pleasure to work with a great engineer and greater human being, that I have the honor to call a friend, Tom Riley. Probably his major fault is that while living in Michigan he supports “The Ohio State University” football team.

Over the course of the “Orion Program” (named by me after the mythical hunter) Tom and I traveled extensively to China and especially Brazil. As I have family in Brazil I would travel on Fridays to be able to visit them on some weekends, and for many times Tom joined me.

We survived together the rigors of my sister’s children’s birthday party, enjoyed some good conversation over long hours driving, some moderate amount of libations (just “two fingers” measured in a rather lose way), shared great meals, and had a good time generally.

But two occasions stand apart. We went to a barbeque (or grill) at my sister-in-law Angela and her husband Mauro and something that I had never paid attention to, was suddenly clear to everyone in the party. Tom and my brother-in-law Dito (short for Benedito) look almost like twins.

You can notice the less than generous hair, grey mustache and glasses. I let you figure out who is who.

The other event happened when I took Tom to visit the farm where I grew up, Fazenda Taboa, about 25 kilometers from Orlândia.

Tom served in Vietnam about the same time that I was born (or a bit before that), and he is one of those persons that can talk about that time with a unique perspective and even some humor.

Apparently his main problem with the US Army was that when he landed in Vietnam he was not issued a personal weapon, as he was considered to be “support troop”. No long after that he had to scavenge a rifle and dug himself a foxhole to defend his base when it was attacked by either the Vietcong (or the NVA, I am not sure).

Tom told me that his position was about to be overrun when an army truck backed up to it, the tailgate dropped and a “Meat Chopper” opened fire. The “Meat Chopper” consists of four fifty-caliber Browning M2 machine guns mounted in an anti-aircraft support, but widely used as an antipersonnel weapon.

Tom tells that he was deaf for a couple weeks, but was terribly happy to be in that condition and alive.

To make a long story short, I decided that Tom should have the opportunity to shoot a couple white winged pigeons, one of my all time favorite game bird. I got my old 12 gauge CBC trap gun, a handful of shells and we started to wander around the house looking for the pigeons.

When Tom held that shotgun he changed. He held it at port all the time, started looking around very carefully, kept himself to the very center of the pathway, and walked very carefully, like stepping on eggs.

That situation surprised me a bit and I started joking with him, and then Tom told that this was the first time he held a firearm since he came back from Vietnam. Almost forty years late he was looking for potential ambush, booby traps or land mines.

Suddenly a pigeon flew from one of the very large mango trees and came straight towards us (a very uncommon thing for a weary pigeon to do). Tom shouldered the shotgun, aimed at the bird and fired. The small problem is that rather than hit the pigeon, he hit the high voltage electric wires overhead, and we had a brief, but unique, pyrotechnical show, almost like a miniature white phosphorus grenade.

Tom was fast enough to point out that his intention was to scare the hell out of the attacking pigeon so he could tell all his companions how dangerous and well armed we were, and therefore avoid any big engagement.

There is no doubt that old ways die hard.

I hope that Tom has enjoyed our relationship as much as I did. I know that he holds a grudge against me for introducing him to Brazilian pizza (at BRAZ, in Campinas) and creating a lower appreciation for the US variety. But, how could I tell he would enjoy it so much?