Quote:
Originally Posted by bob weeman
A grouse someone has flushed a ways away that is crossing full speed through the trees. The longer I see it coming the more likely I am to miss it.
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This brings fresh to my mind the crisp clear morning that Jamie, my brother in law, and I were hunting down the “Scrubapple Hillside” that I used to ski down 35 years ago but which had grown up in wild apples, young pines and spruces and maples. There were still a lot of clearings and openings between the trees though.
Jamie, off to my right about 40 yards, flushed a grouse but never saw it. I saw it as soon as it flushed and watched as it streaked straight at me about six feet off the ground. When I could gather my composure I snapped the gun up and swung hard through its line of flight and touched the front trigger when it was directly in front of me and crossing to the left.
All I saw was a cloud of feathers like I had shot through a pillow. I thought it was useless to even pick the thing up off the ground. It had been about 10 or 12 feet off my gun barrels when I fired.
Much to my delight I had blown out its back but the breast meat had not one pellet hole in it.
It was just instinctive snap-shooting without a split second to think.
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