Dedicated to the Memory of Mark Griffin, my big brother who taught me that the worst day hunting was better than the best day at work
A lot of people like to hunt, some out of necessity and others out of enjoyment. There are a select few, like my brother Mark, and myself, that enjoy stocking prey with rifles and shotguns made in the 1800's to add yet, another dimension understood by few.
Last weekend (September 2011), we both converged on the high desert foothills surrounding the town of Escalante Utah. Escalante, the town we grew up in, is nestled in the mountains of extreme southern Utah and plays host to a wide assortment of game animals from elk and deer to ducks, dove, grouse, rabbits and even rattle snakes. As kids, we continually roamed these familiar surroundings with .22 rim fire rifles and dad’s old 16 gauge Stevens single barrel. Thirty-five years later we still found that same thrill even though we rode in a Yamaha Rhino instead of on horseback. I was using a single barrel 13 gauge English fowler made by Stanton and Sons in the 1850's, and Mark had his Belgian made percussion 14 gauge double of about the same age.
We spent much of the day before cleaning, checking, rechecking and “tuning” our weapons. One hammer on Mark’s double was not striking the nipple on center and further scrutiny revealed the right hammer having been bent or replaced sometime over the years. It was just enough out of kilter not to allow the hammer to fall flush on the cap. After pulling off the hammer, we placed it in a vise, heated it with a torch and gently tapped it with a mallet until it straightened. One luxury you have with these old timers is that the steel used was softer than today’s modern high carbon material. Once the hammer struck the nipple on center, we tried a fresh percussion cap only to hear a disappointing “thud”.
Comparing the strength of both hammers, the right spring was much weaker than the left, so it was back to the work bench we went. I did remember years ago of fixing a similar problem by forcing strips of tin in between the fold of the mainspring to create more resistance. Thinking it just may work again, we completed the process, placed the lock back in position and pressed a “fresh” cap on the cone. Drawing the hammer back, I could tell it was much stronger. The cap exploded as it was supposed to and we were both as happy as if we had good sense.
Much of the next hour or so was spent checking powder and shot flasks, making sure we had ample caps, but mostly reminiscing childhood memories of hunting and hiking among the hills and ravines surround town. We laughed at the excuses we used every time dad asked us where we had been, or why we were not out hauling hay, working in the garden, or stocking shelves at the store. Instead, we were hunting rabbits or out exploring new country.
Collecting antique guns has been a hobby of Marks and mine for over 35 years, but sadly enough, neither of us have time to do much with them and we live 250 miles apart. With hunting regulations becoming more and more stringent, the odds of us both drawing a hunting tag is like the scenario my grandfather used, “ about the same as using an hundred foot out-house and having the splash wash your behind”. Only the words he used to describe it weren’t that polite. Therefore, any time we found time together was much more enjoyable when toting weapons that our great-great grandfathers would have used.
Using an antique muzzle loading shotgun transforms you instantly into a hunter instead of a shooter since you can’t take any shot that comes along. You learn very quickly to stalk your prey within range. A percussion shotgun is a lot slower to load and with no, or very little choke, your practical range is about 25 yards. Modern shotguns with choked barrels, on the other hand, extend your range considerably, not mentioning the fact that follow up shots with an auto loader or a good pump are much quicker. With that in mind, we let a couple of bunnies go that were out of range, a shot I would have definitely taken with my Benelli.
Today’s modern hunters often wonder why all the fuss, especially when it comes to cleaning them up after a good days shooting. Black powder is highly corrosive and dirty and can ruin a costly original in a very short time if not cleaned properly. The only real explanation I have for them is that “it gets into your blood”. The thrill of stalking game knowing you only have one chance (two in the case of the double) gets the heart pumping like nothing I can think of. The satisfaction and sense of pride is magnified tenfold when everything comes together making the hunt successful - something that is usually missed in the hustle and bustle of the modern hunting world.
(Addendum 2017)
The rabbits were sparse that day, but the bonding was priceless as it always was when Mark and I were together with gun in hand. We had just finished discussing how the heck our ancestors ever killed anything with these old weapons when from behind a bush a rabbit suddenly jumped and began running. I yelled to Mark, “to the right of you, quick, shoot!” He did and when the smoke cleared, the rabbit was on its side legs still twitching. We laughed realizing our prior question had just been answered. I now know what our Native American brothers meant by the "Happy Hunting Ground" as it truly was that day!
Posing our guns with the rabbit as proof, neither one of us could have known this would be the last hunting trip we would share together, for a few short months later Mark was involved in an auto accident that left him paralyzed. He passed away last December (2016), four and a half years later almost to the day due to complications stemming from the accident. I’m just truly thankful for the many hunting and shooting experiences we were able to share together as they will always be cherished.
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