Originally Posted by John Davis
(Post 405315)
When Destry and I were at the Philadelphia Gun Club we shot under the nom de plumes Fred Kimble (me) and Captain A. H. Bogardus (Destry). When you toed the line, they would announce over a loud speaker, "Fred Kimble now at post." The following is an account of the match as published in Parker Pages.
"Philadelphia, Penn., January 10, 2009. Editor Parker Pages: - Epic struggles deserve chronicling, and the battles between Captain A. H. Bogardus and Mr. Fred Kimble are no exception. The story began some three years ago when these two shootists first met on the fields of glory in Sanford, North Carolina. In their initial contest, the good Captain was victorious over a very green Kimble by only a very narrow margin. Their second meeting occurred once again in the spring and on southern grounds. And once again Captain Bogardus proved to be the champion wing shot he claimed to be. The third meeting was a different story, as Kimble managed to best Bogardus by a single clay target after two grueling days toeing the line.
Now a fourth match has taken place. But this time north of the Mason-Dixon line, and with live pigeons. The contest occurred on January 10th last and the purse was $100 and an engraved, sterling silver pocket watch. The match was hosted by the old and venerable Philadelphia Gun Club of that Quaker City and our brothers in arms were the guests of the ever genial Mr. Kaas. The day proved cold and snowy, and the sky gray and heavy.
Both of our heroes were sporting Parker shotguns. Bogardus was shooting a weighty DHE with 32 inch tubes choked improved cylinder and fuller, while Kimble shot his BH, sporting thirty inch barrels choked modified and full. Stationed at the thirty-one yard mark, each pigeon popper faced five traps which overlooked the great Delaware River. This was originally slated as a thirty bird race but was cut to twenty-seven when the pigeons ran short. Kimble led off the match and managed to go five straight before losing his sixth bird, dead, but out of bounds, followed shortly thereafter with a clean miss on number nine. Bogardus placed himself at an immediate disadvantage when he missed his first and third birds, but in true champion form the Captain proceeded to kill his next seventeen straight before missing his twenty-first feathered target. Kimble’s next misses came on birds twenty-two and twenty-three, both being screamers straight out of the box. All was even after Bogardus tripped on his twenty-fourth bird, each man being down four. And even it would stay until the final bird. Kimble finished his round with a clean kill on twenty-seven. It was now Bogardus’ turn at the line. A dead bird would leave the match at a tie; a miss would send Kimble home with the watch and the money. The good Captain called, “Trapper! Ready?” The trapper replied, “Ready.” “Pull,” shouted Bogardus and the bird sprung from the trap. The Captain fired twice and as the smoke cleared the unfortunate pigeon fell dead but out of bounds. Such is life in this game we call pigeon shooting. But there’s always next time, my good Captain. Gaucho"
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