Saturday finally arrived and with it, the promise of crisp Fall weather and a morning spent squirrel hunting.The wife was out of town so I could get up, bang around the house, turn on all the lights, cook bacon as noisily I cared to, and whatever other rackets came to mind. Unfortunately, our little insane cat decided to start singing at 3:00am and woke me up after only a few hours sleep. I yelled at the cat and fell back into a fitful sleep. Overslept, so no bacon. Couldn't find my shells. Remembered I'd already put them in the truck. Finally got on the road where I came upon a wreck about a mile from the house. Everyone had to stop and look at the crumpled bumper and the pretty police lights, but we finally got back underway. See how this is shaping up? After encountering two back roads closed for bridge repairs and detouring accordingly, I still made it into the southern Indiana woods just a few minutes after legal shooting time had arrived.
The plan was to check out a large hardwood "flat" I haven't hunted for several years. In keeping with some semblance of conservation, I'll almost never hunt the same area twice in the same year, and often let several years pass before going back. It had rained most of the day yesterday, so the woods were still damp and very quiet to move around it. A huge F5 tornado passed through this area several years ago and getting into the woods proved a good challenge. While not hit directly, a good number of the larger trees out on the edge had been toppled and created quite the maze to go under, over, and around before clearer areas could be reached. I had gone about a hundred and fifty yards in when an area came into view that was quite squirrelly looking. I saw some white oak and beech trees in the area, and there were a good number of smaller "run" logs lying about. I don't know about your squirrels, but these will often use these downed trees as trails to cover ground quickly and silently. I found a seat here at the base of a large pine tree and settled in to wait.
I was carrying the old 1921 Trojan 12 gauge with 30" barrels and choked F/M. As far as squirrel guns go and based on my experience, it would be challenging to find a better candidate. This particular gun has led a VERY full life, based on the condition of its wood and metal, but appears to have been mechanically maintained with some degree of care. It locks up like a vault and the internals operate free, fast, and unerringly. Best of all, I paid less for it than the cost of decent, used 870 Express. I couldn't be much happier with that deal! The bores have a few light flecks of pitting but it's the tightest patterning shotgun I own, except for maybe the big SP-10 with the goose choke screwed in. This shot really appeals to me, taken in the cool, quiet October woods just after sunrise:
About twenty minutes later there was a flash of gray, or at least I thought there was. From the corner of my eye, there was something about forty yards out that looked like neither bird nor wind-blown leaf. I peered through the forest clutter and saw nothing as seconds ticked by. There it was! Just a glimpse of gray fur, perhaps an ear or the tip of a tail, but it was moving on the ground just behind a small root wad. I shouldered the Parker and snicked the safety forward, pointing the long barrels to a clearing I thought the squirrel would likely appear in. The wait was not a long one. It was clear that squirrel wasn't going anywhere so I reloaded and remained in place, marking its location for recovery when I moved on. In a few minutes, another squirrel came up behind me and upon my hearing it, was faced with a ground shot of about six feet! I whirled up onto my knees, shouldering the Parker as I spun with the intention of covering the squirrel until it ran or climbed to a more suitable distance. It dashed into the remains of a small, dry creek bed and ran almost completely out of sight while allowing only two or three glimpses. That was disgusting, but I appreciated the squirrel's cleverness. Here's a very poorly focused shot of the results, but at least it shows the big Parker and the first squirrel it's taken since coming to live with me:
Later in the morning, I caught another gray bounding along one of the run logs. Forty two paces and that old twelve wiped the log clean! I completely forgot to photograph that one, but left the woods with a brace of fine gray squirrels and a fine old Parker in need of cleaning. Accomplished every single thing I sat out to! I think this old gun will serve just fine as my primary squirrel gun from now on and if I can locate some bismuth, it should work equally well for puddle ducks. There's something about hunting with these old guns that all the wonders of modern technology can't seem to touch. It just seems so much richer an experience...
I think a little post-process antiquing helped this photo dramatically! Opinions?
10-10-2015, 09:16 PM
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