The 33 Yard Rise

[C.O.B.]

William Henry (Bill) Montgomery was born with the pervibial Silver Spoon. His father was a prominent Philladelphia businessman as was his father. Bill always enjoyed the finest things in life and received the best education money could buy. He graduated from Yale with a degree in business not that he would have to do any real work, the family business pretty much ran itself and Bill pretty much enjoyed life to it's fullest extent. He was the first generation of what would become the term "Old Money".

Bills only real ambition in life was related to haveing a good time. He loved games of chance (gambeling) and the business end of a fine shotgun. He hunted birds both waterfowl and upland from Main to Texas.

Fairly early in his "career" he discovered the world of live Pigeon shooting. Here he could combine both of his passions in life, making a wager and shooting birds. On one of his December waterfowl hunts to Texas he met Arthur duBray the noted Parker salesman. Mr. duBray recognized the family name and over a couple of wiskeys the talk turned to the Pigeon ring. It wasn't a hard sell for Mr. duBray to convince Bill that the best gun for the ring would be a Parker AA Pigeon gun built just for him. It would be a #2 frame 12 bore, straight grip, double triggers with an articulated front trigger, a skelton steel butplate and 32 inch fine Damascuss barrels choked .040 & .045. The stock would have a Monte Carlo comb and it would shoot high to accomodate the rising flight of the intended quarry.

Bill took to Pigeon shooting like a duck to water and he entered every shoot he could find no matter where it was big or small. He loved everything about it, the crowd of spectators, the wagers and side bets and most of all the Parker gun. Even though he had the very best of equipment he had a rather steep learning curve and was served up a big piece of Humble Pie by some of the local boys who knew the price of a shell and made every one count.

It was at the Pennsylvania State shoot that Bill had finally come into his own as a shooter. After two 25 bird rises there were three shooters with a combined score of 48 birds. The shooters were Doc Carver, SA Tucker and Bill. He knew the names and knew that he was in the real world of Pigeon shooting now. The shoot off would be a five bird rise at 33 yards.

The knot in Bills stomach grew with each bird and he was sweating profusly. It was as if he was haveing his own personal shower as the sweat dripped from every pore. He was as nervous as a virgin on his wedding night as he called for his birds. It was to be the last bird of the rise and Bill had committed the cardinal sin of shooters, he was counting birds. Doc had dropped the first bird out but had pulverised the remaining four never even needing the second barrel. Mr. Tucker had killed all five of his birds but the last one went outside the ring and therefor was lost. It was all in Bills sweat soaked hands, one bird two shells was all that seperated him from his first win.

There was an erie silence as Bill shouldered the Parker for the last bird of the rise. His shirt stuck to the sweaty shoulder and he stepped off the station and adjusted it. As he did so the knot in his stomach grew and tightned with each passing second. His voice cracked as he called for the bird. The pigeon was launched from the first trap a hard right to left shot for Bill. He could hear each flap of the birds wings and knew with each one the bird gained speed and distance. The first shot was a complete surprise and he damned near dropped the Parker but feathers flew but they were tail feathers. Bill gripped the gun as tightly as his clamy hands could and bared down as the bird took a hard right turn at his first shot. He swung those 32 inches of fine Damascuss past the crossing target but time was of the essence as the bird was flying closer and closer to the edge of the ring. Bill could feel the thoughts of a chance at redemption from Carver and Tucker as he passed the bird and sent the second charge of chilled 7's on their way. The 1 1/8th ounce of shot hit the bird and tumbled it from the air,it was a body hit and no wings were broken. The bird was flopping on the ground like a fish out of water at the very edge of the ring and oh how he wished for that first shot over again.

On the very edge of the ring the bird flopped once more.....and lay still.