The man, in his late 40’s, lives for moments like this. As he slips along the old logging road through the trees, trying hard to walk quietly in the dry October leaves, he strains his eyes and ears to see or hear something. As he moves slowly along, the sights and sounds of a crisp fall morning are like a magical elixir, washing away all the stresses and strains of a busy life. The early morning sun ahead of him is beginning to glint through the leaves, and a squirrel squeals softly somewhere. All is right with the world.
He doesn’t get to do this often, so every occasion is highly anticipated. He carries a very old, long-out-of-production .22 rifle. The stock finish is worn away, revealing raw, oil-darkened wood. The old, worn single-shot has taught him more about marksmanship than any other gun he owns. Even though the fixed sights now challenge his level of visual acuity, he insists on using the rifle because of the memories.
The memories flood over him every time his hands cradle the old rifle. Passed down from his grandfather, the now-unique old rifle carries a lifetime of detailed recollections of hunts past. A Remington Model 41A “Targetmaster”, it was only produced for 4 or 5 years in the late-1930’s.
Remington applied the “Targetmaster” name to a variety of arms, ammunition, and accessories during that era—a branding effort implying superb accuracy. The man’s experience through the years with the rifle has caused him to question the veracity of this claim—he sometimes wonders why this model was only produced for a relatively short span of years compared to Remington’s generally excellent, long-production-run firearms.
His love-hate relationship with the Model 41A is in large part sustained by sheer, raw sentimentality. He knows his grandfather owned the gun and hunted with it. Besides, the cumulative recollections of a lifetime of hunting experiences with the old .22 are enriched by the often-selective memory of the hunter. He remembers the days he shot a limit of 8 tender, young squirrels. The much-more-prevalent days of 2 or 3 wolf-infested, flea-laden, tough old boars with testicles as big as whole hickory nuts are long forgotten. The picture perfect days like today are fondly remembered; the windy or hot or rainy days are forgotten.
The old rifle’s somewhat awkward bolt mechanism, its inherent lack of accuracy, and the single shot action all contributed to the hunter’s marksmanship skill development. He learned very early on in his relationship with the gun that he had to hold the thing rock-solid-still, aim very carefully, control his breathing, and s q u e e z e the trigger very slowly and gently if he wanted to stand any chance at all of hitting anything. And the single shot action pretty much precluded any chance of a quick follow-up shot.
Nonetheless, he is undeterred in his insistence on carrying the old, worn, rickety .22. It just feels right, and contributes to the “all is right with the world” aspect of this perfect fall day.
Reaching a point in the road where a game trail intersects from the north, the man pauses momentarily to look and listen, and then steps off the road and onto the trail.
Then it happens—he is 9 again.
A 9-year-old trapped in a 40-something-year-old body, the man is now full of awe and excitement. His focus is totally on the leafy canopy overhead. There’s a slight rustle somewhere. He freezes, standing motionless beside a big field pine. Then he sees the tiny little pieces of acorn falling through the leaves of a big water oak just a few yards away. Peering straight up into the branches of the oak, he sees movement, then the silhouette of a squirrel.
Resting his left forearm against the trunk of the pine, and supporting the old rifle solidly, he finds the squirrel in the sights, takes a deep breath, lets it halfway out, and slowly squeezes the trigger.
ka-POW, and the squirrel tumble from the tree to the ground.
Now the man realizes he is trembling; trembling with excitement over a squirrel. What a wonderfully simple way to be 9 again.
Hopefully you will find time to enjoy the marvels of small-game hunting this fall. There’s no better way to regain your youthfulness than through pursuing any of a wide variety of small game. Whether you hunt doves, quail, rabbits, squirrels, or other small game, the opportunities abound. Although quail habitat and populations are not near what they were in the days when the “Targetmaster” was produced, almost all other game species are far more abundant now than then. For a very revealing comparison, read or listen to Tom Kelly’s The Bad Old Days.
Just getting out into field and forest in early fall is exhilarating, and it’s a wonderful prelude to deer season, without having to be still and quiet for long periods of time. And you get to shoot the gun a lot—it’s important to 9-year-olds of all ages.
An even better way to be 9 again, with a far greater reach, is to include an actual 9-year-old in your plans. The legacy you leave with a younger hunter will last forever. Alabama’s regular ample hunting seasons, Youth Dove Fields, and Special Youth Deer, Turkey, and Waterfowl Hunting Days offer excellent opportunities to share with young people. For information, check the Hunting and Fishing Digest or go to http://www.outdooralabama.com
The old saying, “The acorn never falls too far from the tree” is very true. The things you value as a hunter are largely a product of the influence of somebody special who took you along when you were young. In like fashion, you can have the same profoundly positive effect on a younger person. All you have to do is invite them along. Remember our Hunting Heritage is passed along one person at a time.