It has been my privilege to hunt quite a few thing large and small in several states, and some of the hunts have been real adventures, but when it comes right down to it, nothing gives me more pleasure than squirrel hunting right in my own back yard. Simple, basic and satisfying, somehow it defines hunting more than most anything else I do. Back to my roots, I guess, since my first hunting was for squirrels with a single-shot .22, and I’ve been hunting them for more than 60 years with not one jot less enthusiasm. Things got suddenly better when I began hunting them with flintlocks about thirty-five years ago, and it doesn’t get any better than that, never will. If I could have only one more hunt, it would be for squirrels on a calm, cool fall day in the Kentucky woods, dressed in colonial garb and with a flintlock on my arm.
I keep a journal of my hunts, and these three entries from 2004 pretty well describe what it is about squirrel hunting with flintlock rifles that I like so much.
July 21, 2004 Had a nice little hunt today, the first day of squirrel season. Decided to take my .40 caliber along, hadn't shot it for about 8 years. Arrived fairly late, 0930, temperature 63F, wind 15-20 mph, rain during the night, deeply overcast and dark day. Hunted down through the triangle woods (Several trees down in the triangle from the recent storms.), along the timothy field and into the cedar thicket. Sat down in the area where I usually see 2-3 fox squirrels during deer season and hunted there for half an hour and had still not seen anything. No nuts or cuttings seen under either hickory or walnut. Slipped through Keith's woods to the pond, saw 3 young female wood ducks near my side of the pond apparently feeding on duckweed. They swam to the other side and under some brush when I showed myself, never flew. (A large oak down here, too.) Hunted over near the road and decided to shoot at a leaf on a tree just to check out the gun because I hadn’t fired it in such a long while. Put a 1 1/2-inch leaf up, took a rest on a small tree at 25 yards and was squinting to get a clear sight picture when, all out of focus and in the mist, I saw a squirrel slide down the bole of a tree behind and slightly left of my target. I lowered the cock and slipped down there, about 50 yards, but saw nothing after 15 minutes. Back to my rest and shot at the leaf, hit it well, walked up to look at it and realized I was hearing a squirrel squack behind me. All my messing around had him all upset and bothered. I couldn't see him, but he sounded close, right where I had been standing when I shot. I quickly reloaded and started toward him, but he came down the tree before I had taken five steps. It was a young fox squirrel, hanging upside down on the side of the tree at 22 yards. I couldn't get to a rest, so shot him offhand. I aimed for his chest and hit him there, squarely, and he fell down instantly dead. I cleaned the squirrel at the pond, then shot at the leaf again to empty my gun, hit the leaf just as well offhand at 25 yards as with a rest. Off to the car and home at 1215.
I was shooting 30 grains of FFFg Goex with a thin linen patch, .395 swaged ball, primed with FFFFg Hodgdon. The FFFg was the remnants of about 6-8 empty cans which I shook some more and mixed together. The flint in the gun was a well-used cut German flint from years ago, but ignition was fast and dependable.
Cooked up a dish of squirrel and dumplings for supper (boiled 1 1/2 hour, with water to cover and 2 cubes chicken bullion, added potatoes, onion and carrot after 1 hour, put Bisquick dumplings in with 10 minutes left), very good. It was a pleasure to clean the .40 again. My first muzzleloader, bought 38 years ago and an old friend.
Aug. 28, 2004 Exceptional hunt, today. Weather was great for hunting but miserable to hunt in. Mostly clear sky, absolutely calm wind until about 1030, temperature when I arrived at 0715 was 75F, humidity 96% falling to 65% at noon, temperature when I left at 1130 was 89F. I hunted in my colonial garb even though I knew it would be really hot, just had to do it. Wore breeches, moccasins, leggings, linen rifle shirt and tricorn hat. I carried the .30-caliber flintlock, first time to hunt with it since August, 1992. I had been shooting 25 grains FFFg Goex but decided it was too hot a load, cut back to 20 grains, still more than needed but very accurate. I entered the Sundown woods at the through-road and hunted east down the drainage. Gorgeous morning, lots of strong yellow beams of light coming into the woods down at the 2-acre field. About 15 minutes after I started I saw squirrels shaking the leaves way down there. Skulked down there slowly and cautiously, seeing the leaves move frequently. Finally got to the tree where I was sitting when I killed the big tom last fall, and saw the squirrel, a fox, near the field edge. It moved fairly quickly in my direction, got to within 15 yards and disappeared. I waited almost as long as I could tolerate, saw nothing, assumed she was a goner and was ready to move on. Suddenly, 50 yards behind me across the stream, a very loud alarm blow from one of three does that had walked up on me. Startled me but startled the squirrel, too, and she did as startled squirrels always do, darted around the tree trunk and froze on the side opposite the alarm. Problem was, that's where I was. First squirrel in the bag, rifle fired instantly after about 12 years and with the flint from that time. I cleaned the squirrel while listening to another squack continuously at me from the field edge near a walnut. I moved in that direction and quickly saw it move in the walnut. I got in position and sighted on it as it moved around, waiting for a motionless moment. It finally perched and began cutting and I squeezed off the shot at about 10 yards straight up. Misfire! Even worse, all the prime fell out when the pan opened. Re-primed, re-sighted, re-shot, same result. Did that about 3 more times, feeding prime like it was a war. The squirrel held its ground through it all. The blasted thing finally fired, but I missed completely and the squirrel ran off in a bit of haste. Sat down and changed the flint, using one from the bundle put together 12 years ago, another cut German agate.
I moved south and crossed the stream, immediately a gray squirrel in a hickory began cussing me out. Spotted him in the open but fairly far off, so I began planning a move to some kind of rest. Before I could decide, another squirrel joined in the cussing and I spotted a fox steeply up the slope and about 35 yards away, but hanging motionless upside-down about 12 feet up. I was able to get to a tree for a rest and chose him as my target. I had some trouble separating the color of the squirrel from that of the bark, but I squinted and did my best. Aimed at his chest and squeezed it off. He fell instantly with a dead thud. I reloaded, then moved up the hill to that one, found him, shot dead-center in the chest. Cleaned him and took a few pictures for the file. I was headed for the cedar thicket area of this woods, so I pointed my nose downhill, again, and took a few steps. Looking up into a hickory straight down-slope, I saw the first gray sitting and calmly cutting. He was about 20 yards out and at not too steep an angle, but the limb he was sitting on blocked most of him from view. I shouldered my gun and waited until he moved. He did, shifted so his butt and tail showed on one side of the limb and his head on the other. I squeezed off a careful shot, along with a wish, and he, too, came instantly straight down to land with that thump they make when really dead. I had shot his head almost completely off. The load can be reduced, again, maybe? A slow circuit into the wooded bottoms yielded no further action, so I headed for the car and something cold to drink. Four squirrels sighted, three killed, one missed. A shot at 35 yards, a clean offhand head shot at 20.... there is some life in the old boy, yet. This could get to be a habit.
Sept. 7, 2004 Pride cometh before a fall. I had been trying to go squirrel hunting again for several days, but temperatures were in the high 80s, too hot for fun hunting. Decided to try it this afternoon because it was cooler, but it wasn't the best day. Temperature was 74F, winds were 10-15, gusty, sky was completely overcast and dark. When I arrived at 1430 things had calmed and lightened a bit, so I decided not to take my rain gear. Bad idea. I parked at the same through-road, but hunted along the upper part of the northern slope of the valley, following a heavy deer trail. Kicked up a deer immediately on entering the woods. When I got to the place where I shot the first squirrel last time, I dropped down and crossed the stream. The sky was getting much darker, wind was really gusty and humidity very high. I hunted along the trail on the slope up to the cedar grove, then up into that. Kicked up another deer about there. Sat on a log for 15 minutes, still saw nothing. Headed south again, along another trail, and saw a fox squirrel move in a tree to my left. I tried repeatedly to get a bead on him, but he kept moving, and the day was so dark I couldn't see him well enough. He finally fiddled around onto my side of a tree about 20 yards out, so I tried him, but missed. I was shooting the Louis Smith .30 caliber with 20 gr. FFFg Goex, .010" cotton patch, beeswax-lard lube and cast .295 ball. The low silver blade front sight works amazingly well under these adverse conditions, but it was still very hard to get a clear sight picture. He monkeyed around for another 2 minutes while I reloaded, but then left for good before I could try again. I angled south toward the bottom, soon saw another fox squirrel in a tree below the trail, big leaf nest in it. Followed him for five minutes, got a partial bead several times, but the trees were moving and it was so dark I couldn't find the right moment. He finally stopped and I tried him, but missed again. I retraced my steps to the south along the trail, got as far as the access road to the half-acre field before the rain started. It just sprinkled, at first, then set in to rain lightly, then moderately. I took shelter under a cedar and stayed dry for quite some time. The drips finally began to find me, so I put the cow's knee on my gun and began walking out the way I had come in. Now it really rained hard, noisy, windy, dark and totally wet. I was quickly soaked. It was pleasant walking along watching the rain fall in the woods. I thought how the early settlers and hunters simply endured the weather because they had no choice, many times, and found myself enjoying it quite a lot. The woods were beautiful, and I love being out in the rain. It's something to see the natural world in all its phases, and I was glad I had come. I made my way to the car along the trail to the south of the feeder stream. Emptied my gun into a stump when I got there, and ignition was instantaneous and strong. I may take the Jackie Brown smoothbore next time, certainly will if the conditions are anything like today. Before the hunt, I had run a bead of lube in the stock-barrel joint to keep water from under the barrel. Good idea, and it worked well. Too bad I didn't get to try the rain gear, it was a perfect storm for it. As I drove out in the driving rain, I saw a small deer standing within 15 feet of me, sheltered as much as possible under the brush and with her head hanging down, just waiting out the storm.
Spence
I keep a journal of my hunts, and these three entries from 2004 pretty well describe what it is about squirrel hunting with flintlock rifles that I like so much.
July 21, 2004 Had a nice little hunt today, the first day of squirrel season. Decided to take my .40 caliber along, hadn't shot it for about 8 years. Arrived fairly late, 0930, temperature 63F, wind 15-20 mph, rain during the night, deeply overcast and dark day. Hunted down through the triangle woods (Several trees down in the triangle from the recent storms.), along the timothy field and into the cedar thicket. Sat down in the area where I usually see 2-3 fox squirrels during deer season and hunted there for half an hour and had still not seen anything. No nuts or cuttings seen under either hickory or walnut. Slipped through Keith's woods to the pond, saw 3 young female wood ducks near my side of the pond apparently feeding on duckweed. They swam to the other side and under some brush when I showed myself, never flew. (A large oak down here, too.) Hunted over near the road and decided to shoot at a leaf on a tree just to check out the gun because I hadn’t fired it in such a long while. Put a 1 1/2-inch leaf up, took a rest on a small tree at 25 yards and was squinting to get a clear sight picture when, all out of focus and in the mist, I saw a squirrel slide down the bole of a tree behind and slightly left of my target. I lowered the cock and slipped down there, about 50 yards, but saw nothing after 15 minutes. Back to my rest and shot at the leaf, hit it well, walked up to look at it and realized I was hearing a squirrel squack behind me. All my messing around had him all upset and bothered. I couldn't see him, but he sounded close, right where I had been standing when I shot. I quickly reloaded and started toward him, but he came down the tree before I had taken five steps. It was a young fox squirrel, hanging upside down on the side of the tree at 22 yards. I couldn't get to a rest, so shot him offhand. I aimed for his chest and hit him there, squarely, and he fell down instantly dead. I cleaned the squirrel at the pond, then shot at the leaf again to empty my gun, hit the leaf just as well offhand at 25 yards as with a rest. Off to the car and home at 1215.
I was shooting 30 grains of FFFg Goex with a thin linen patch, .395 swaged ball, primed with FFFFg Hodgdon. The FFFg was the remnants of about 6-8 empty cans which I shook some more and mixed together. The flint in the gun was a well-used cut German flint from years ago, but ignition was fast and dependable.
Cooked up a dish of squirrel and dumplings for supper (boiled 1 1/2 hour, with water to cover and 2 cubes chicken bullion, added potatoes, onion and carrot after 1 hour, put Bisquick dumplings in with 10 minutes left), very good. It was a pleasure to clean the .40 again. My first muzzleloader, bought 38 years ago and an old friend.
Aug. 28, 2004 Exceptional hunt, today. Weather was great for hunting but miserable to hunt in. Mostly clear sky, absolutely calm wind until about 1030, temperature when I arrived at 0715 was 75F, humidity 96% falling to 65% at noon, temperature when I left at 1130 was 89F. I hunted in my colonial garb even though I knew it would be really hot, just had to do it. Wore breeches, moccasins, leggings, linen rifle shirt and tricorn hat. I carried the .30-caliber flintlock, first time to hunt with it since August, 1992. I had been shooting 25 grains FFFg Goex but decided it was too hot a load, cut back to 20 grains, still more than needed but very accurate. I entered the Sundown woods at the through-road and hunted east down the drainage. Gorgeous morning, lots of strong yellow beams of light coming into the woods down at the 2-acre field. About 15 minutes after I started I saw squirrels shaking the leaves way down there. Skulked down there slowly and cautiously, seeing the leaves move frequently. Finally got to the tree where I was sitting when I killed the big tom last fall, and saw the squirrel, a fox, near the field edge. It moved fairly quickly in my direction, got to within 15 yards and disappeared. I waited almost as long as I could tolerate, saw nothing, assumed she was a goner and was ready to move on. Suddenly, 50 yards behind me across the stream, a very loud alarm blow from one of three does that had walked up on me. Startled me but startled the squirrel, too, and she did as startled squirrels always do, darted around the tree trunk and froze on the side opposite the alarm. Problem was, that's where I was. First squirrel in the bag, rifle fired instantly after about 12 years and with the flint from that time. I cleaned the squirrel while listening to another squack continuously at me from the field edge near a walnut. I moved in that direction and quickly saw it move in the walnut. I got in position and sighted on it as it moved around, waiting for a motionless moment. It finally perched and began cutting and I squeezed off the shot at about 10 yards straight up. Misfire! Even worse, all the prime fell out when the pan opened. Re-primed, re-sighted, re-shot, same result. Did that about 3 more times, feeding prime like it was a war. The squirrel held its ground through it all. The blasted thing finally fired, but I missed completely and the squirrel ran off in a bit of haste. Sat down and changed the flint, using one from the bundle put together 12 years ago, another cut German agate.
I moved south and crossed the stream, immediately a gray squirrel in a hickory began cussing me out. Spotted him in the open but fairly far off, so I began planning a move to some kind of rest. Before I could decide, another squirrel joined in the cussing and I spotted a fox steeply up the slope and about 35 yards away, but hanging motionless upside-down about 12 feet up. I was able to get to a tree for a rest and chose him as my target. I had some trouble separating the color of the squirrel from that of the bark, but I squinted and did my best. Aimed at his chest and squeezed it off. He fell instantly with a dead thud. I reloaded, then moved up the hill to that one, found him, shot dead-center in the chest. Cleaned him and took a few pictures for the file. I was headed for the cedar thicket area of this woods, so I pointed my nose downhill, again, and took a few steps. Looking up into a hickory straight down-slope, I saw the first gray sitting and calmly cutting. He was about 20 yards out and at not too steep an angle, but the limb he was sitting on blocked most of him from view. I shouldered my gun and waited until he moved. He did, shifted so his butt and tail showed on one side of the limb and his head on the other. I squeezed off a careful shot, along with a wish, and he, too, came instantly straight down to land with that thump they make when really dead. I had shot his head almost completely off. The load can be reduced, again, maybe? A slow circuit into the wooded bottoms yielded no further action, so I headed for the car and something cold to drink. Four squirrels sighted, three killed, one missed. A shot at 35 yards, a clean offhand head shot at 20.... there is some life in the old boy, yet. This could get to be a habit.
Sept. 7, 2004 Pride cometh before a fall. I had been trying to go squirrel hunting again for several days, but temperatures were in the high 80s, too hot for fun hunting. Decided to try it this afternoon because it was cooler, but it wasn't the best day. Temperature was 74F, winds were 10-15, gusty, sky was completely overcast and dark. When I arrived at 1430 things had calmed and lightened a bit, so I decided not to take my rain gear. Bad idea. I parked at the same through-road, but hunted along the upper part of the northern slope of the valley, following a heavy deer trail. Kicked up a deer immediately on entering the woods. When I got to the place where I shot the first squirrel last time, I dropped down and crossed the stream. The sky was getting much darker, wind was really gusty and humidity very high. I hunted along the trail on the slope up to the cedar grove, then up into that. Kicked up another deer about there. Sat on a log for 15 minutes, still saw nothing. Headed south again, along another trail, and saw a fox squirrel move in a tree to my left. I tried repeatedly to get a bead on him, but he kept moving, and the day was so dark I couldn't see him well enough. He finally fiddled around onto my side of a tree about 20 yards out, so I tried him, but missed. I was shooting the Louis Smith .30 caliber with 20 gr. FFFg Goex, .010" cotton patch, beeswax-lard lube and cast .295 ball. The low silver blade front sight works amazingly well under these adverse conditions, but it was still very hard to get a clear sight picture. He monkeyed around for another 2 minutes while I reloaded, but then left for good before I could try again. I angled south toward the bottom, soon saw another fox squirrel in a tree below the trail, big leaf nest in it. Followed him for five minutes, got a partial bead several times, but the trees were moving and it was so dark I couldn't find the right moment. He finally stopped and I tried him, but missed again. I retraced my steps to the south along the trail, got as far as the access road to the half-acre field before the rain started. It just sprinkled, at first, then set in to rain lightly, then moderately. I took shelter under a cedar and stayed dry for quite some time. The drips finally began to find me, so I put the cow's knee on my gun and began walking out the way I had come in. Now it really rained hard, noisy, windy, dark and totally wet. I was quickly soaked. It was pleasant walking along watching the rain fall in the woods. I thought how the early settlers and hunters simply endured the weather because they had no choice, many times, and found myself enjoying it quite a lot. The woods were beautiful, and I love being out in the rain. It's something to see the natural world in all its phases, and I was glad I had come. I made my way to the car along the trail to the south of the feeder stream. Emptied my gun into a stump when I got there, and ignition was instantaneous and strong. I may take the Jackie Brown smoothbore next time, certainly will if the conditions are anything like today. Before the hunt, I had run a bead of lube in the stock-barrel joint to keep water from under the barrel. Good idea, and it worked well. Too bad I didn't get to try the rain gear, it was a perfect storm for it. As I drove out in the driving rain, I saw a small deer standing within 15 feet of me, sheltered as much as possible under the brush and with her head hanging down, just waiting out the storm.
Spence
