Jim Taylor
Adventures With a Rifle
Monday, January 30, 2023, 13:44

I ran across this old piece that I wrote about 25 years ago. If you read it you will see some of my prejudices come out but I may have changed my mind about them by now so don't be too hard on me.

Although I have carried a handgun for most of my life, and that is my preferred firearm, it seems we have had a rifle of some type around most all the time. The handgun is the "handy" gun. The rifle is the "working" gun. If I am hunting for fun or the challenge of it I use the handgun. If I need the meat I take the rifle. The handgun is more convenient being easy to pack and keep handy, even when fixing fence or doing other chores. And even though I use the handgun it seems there is a rifle somewhere in the background. These tales are not in any chronological order but were written down as the memories came to mind.

OUT COLD

My wife and I had been out hunting deer, walking the hills and canyons below our place all morning. The day grew warm and as we came up a steep ridge my wife began to tire. It was a steep climb and near the top she started to hyper-ventilate. We stopped so she could rest. Sitting there I looked several hundred yards across the canyon and saw a deer walking down the far ridge. I took her rifle since it had a scope on it and looked at the deer. Seeing sunshine glint off antlers I swung the crosshairs out infront of the deer's nose and touched the trigger. At the shot I lost sight of the deer in the scope and at the same time my wife said, "My God! You got it! It's so far over there, I can't believe it." Then she gave a small sigh and passed out. I was anxious about losing the deer, not knowing where I hit it. At the same time I was concerned about my wife. I tried to get her up while at the same time checking to make sure the deer did not get up. For a few moments I was in a quandry, not knowing exactly what I was to do! Then she roused and set up. After a time she was feeling OK and agreed to guide me to where the deer lay. It was far enough across the canyon that it took me about 20 minutes to get to the vicinity of the deer, with my wife standing on the ridge directing me with hand signals. I finally located it and found it to be a clean kill, the bullet taking it directly through the neck. My wife worked her way over to me presently and we spent several more hours getting it to the road, which is a completely different story. I did get the deer home OK, and my wife recovered just fine.

CHICKEN KILLER

We always had stray dogs coming around the place chasing our goats, or horses or chickens. I usually kept a pistol handy to take care of the invaders and we always had a .22 rifle handy also. One morning before I had gotten out of bed one of our old hens began to raise a racket directly under our bedroom window. I got up and looked out to see a large dog trying to get her or her chicks. The old hen was doing what she could to protect her babies but she was losing the fight. I had the .22 rifle by the bed loaded with hollowpoints so I just raised up and shot the dog through the window. I did not wait to open the window however and while the rifle took care of the dog, it did not do the window any good either. In fact, I did not come out of it real well since the window was on my wife's side and she was still half asleep in the bed! However I did save the hen and her chicks.

HOUSE KILLER

Laying in bed one night the dog began to make a racket. I had been losing some chickens so I figured I might get whatever it was. I grabbed the .22 rifle and a flashlight and went to see what all the commotion was about. I checked around the house and did not see anything. Coming back in happened to see some eyes shining under an overhang on the front porch. I immediately shot it - and just as immediately regretted it. Turned out it was a little striped skunk. We could hardly sleep in the house or use it for several days.

SGB

Dad and Ed Wosika had just come up with the SGB Tool and I was giving it a workout, shooting critters and doing autopsies to see how they performed in flesh. I had a single-shot .22 with me as I walked out in the hills one day. A ways from the house I spotted a large German Shepherd dog running by itself. At about 40 yards I shot dog directly in the ribs. It turned immediately and came directly for me. Since all I had was the single-shot I waited until it was about 15 yards from me and shot it square in the throat, head-on. It turned aside and ran past me with blood pouring out of its mouth. I reloaded and tracked it for about 100 yards into some heavy brush. Not wanting to get jumped, I went back to the house and got a pump shotgun and a handgun. I hate running out of ammo!

CAT KILLER

Something large had been coming onto our place, beating up our cats and taking their food. The dog would not mess with whatever it was. One night when the wife and kids were gone I put some deer meat on the front porch, turned on the porch light and turned off the house lights. I sat in the front room in the dark and waited. In about a half hour a HUGE cat came slinking onto the porch, sniffing at the meat. As he took it into his mouth I shot him in the side of the head. Right through the screen door. The cat screamed and flopped off the porch, over the hill and down into the corral. It was dark so I waited until next morning. When I tracked it, the blood and marks were lost near the corral. No matter how hard I tried I could find no sign of it.

Two weeks later my little girls were playing out in the front yard. I happened to look out the back window and here was this same cat! Sitting there on its haunches watching my kids, like maybe they were next! I eased the rifle around the corner of the house and shot it square in the chest. The cat jumped 2 feet in the air, then ran off. I trailed it for 100 yards or so and lost it again! However it never came back. And I took to leaving the .32-20 by the door. Some things the .22 is just too small for.

JAVELINA

Javelina had been coming into the yard all summer long, usually about 10 or 11 at night. They would root up the flowers, fight with the dogs and generally make a lot of racket. One night they woke me up about 10:30 so I grabbed the single-shot .22 and went out in the yard. A bunch were under the apricot tree, scurrying around in the dark. I shot at one about 10 feet away and it fell over dead! The rest ran off. The round was a "standard velocity" target round that I had made into an SGB. Showed me the idea was effective. Shooting the pig was not however. A half hour later they were all back again.

COYOTES

I had shot a burro in the hills a couple miles behind our place, packed in the hind quarters and the backstraps to eat, and then used to the rest of the carcass for coyote bait. I had been riding out and shooting coyotes with a handgun from horseback, but the wiley critters soon caught on to that. When they heard my horse coming they would scatter. So one afternoon I decided to go on foot. I put on camoflauge and took the Remington 600 in .243 loaded with 80 gr. BTHP loads. I worked my way out to where the carcass lay and when I was within 200 - 225 yards I could see coyotes working on various parts of the old donkey. I held on one that was chewing on part of a leg and squeezed the trigger. The coyote immedately dropped. It's partner ran off a few feet, then stopped and came back, sniffing around the fallen one. I had the crosshairs on it and pulled the trigger. I lost sight of it in the scope due to recoil, but when I pulled the gun back down I could see several others milling around as if unsure what to do. I shot another one as it was moving off and it jumped straight up into the air, then walked into the brush, stiff-legged and hunched over with it's tail sticking straight out.

By this time all the others had disappeared, their reasoning being most likely that this was not a safe place to be. After watching awhile I loaded up and began heading for the house. I had gone not more than a quarter mile when here came 3 more coyotes, walking along as if they were going to their favorite restaurant. I shot at the near on and missed. One that was above it took off across the hillside as hard as it could run. I shot at it and missed, but the bullet threw up chunks of rock and dirt in front of it and it stopped for second. My next shot nailed it. All during this time one lone coyote sat up at the top of the hill an his haunches, watching the proceedings. I knelt down, put the scope on its chin and fired, and the dog dropped.

This was the best coyote shooting I have ever gotten into at one setting. The nearest shot had been around 150 yards and all told I hit five of the 7 I shot at. I recovered all the bodies and laid them in one place to take photos. Two days later I went back and found their cousins had eaten them. I guess they got tired of burro meat.

MODEL 71 WINCHESTER

When my old friend Robert died I obtained his favorite rifle, a Model 71 Winchester in .348 caliber. I wanted to take a nice Mule Deer with it in memory of Robert and so had passed up several smaller bucks during the first part of the season. I spent several days in the saddle, hunting the deep canyons and draws where some of the big old boys hid out. Riding up a ridge in some rough country one morning the horse suddenly gave a start. Three good sized bucks had taken off up the canyon wall across from us maybe 200 yards. One of the bucks had a nice rack so I fell off the horse, took the rifle and levered a shell into the chamber. I knelt down and shot and the deer fell. Then to my horror it got up again and tried to go up the hillside. I shot again, leading it and shot over its head. This turned the buck and it ran down hill back toward me. I shot again, missed, shot again and missed. And the deer stopped and looked across the canyon at me. The magazine was empty so I walked around to the side of the horse, opened the saddle bags, got out the shells and started stuffing them into the chamber. The buck began to run up the hill diagonally across in front of me. I jacked a shell in the chamber, swung the rifle like a shotgun and when the sights passed its nose I squeezed the trigger. The buck hit the ground and never twitched.

It took me quite a while to get over to it. Turned out to be nearer 300 yards than 200 across the canyon. And rough! I packed the deer onto the horse and headed for home. Coming across some loose ground the mare lost her footing and started to slip. I turned her head uphill so she could get some footing but it was too late. She balked, stumbled and then fell over sideways downhill. She rolled over, up on her feet, then down on her side and rolled over again, then up again - FIVE TIMES! I figured she was going to roll a quarter mile to bottom of the canyon but she slid to stop on a small shelf and lay there trembling. I got to her, got the deer off her and unpacked her, then got her to her feet. Miraculously she was not injured. I led her to flat ground on the mountaintop, tied her to a tree and let her calm down. Then I packed the deer and all the gear up to her and repacked her. We went on home with no more trouble.

I found that nothing had been broken. Not the rifle in the scabbord, not the camera in the saddlebags. I did find later that my thumb was cut near to the bone where I had tried to hold on to her and the rope burned its way down through the skin. In all the excitement I never noticed it.

MEMORIES

My first gun was an old Springfield single-shot .22 that Dad got me when I was 10 years old. He had cut the stock down and shortened the barrel to 16 inches for me. I was sure proud of that gun. Using a single-shot taught me to make the first shot count. In later years this proved to be handy. I learned to stalk game and get close enough to make my shot count. It taught me to hunt, not just shoot.

In the Army I carried a M-14. I liked the rifle, not having an affinity for the M-1 like some of the oldtimers. The Army was just switching over to the Mattel-toy in those years. I never used one and in fact, never shot one until after I was out of the service. While it is OK I would rather have the larger caliber gun. Most people like the AR's for the same reason the 9mm is popular. It makes a lot of noise so it sounds like a big gun. And it doesn't kick, so poor shooters can shoot it fairly well. Of course, that is my opinion. I am biased.

USEFUL

Firearms are useful tools. They are not weapons unless used as one. They are tools. Like a baseball bat, axe or hammer. All can be used as weapons, but are not necessarily so. Around the ranch firearms are useful tools. They can be used for much more than killing. For instance, I was installing a telephone in the upstairs bedroom of our old farmhouse. I needed to drill a hole in the old oak wall and did not have a drill bit long enough. Looking at it for few moments I got inspired, picked up my Marlin .32-20 and drilled a hole in the wall right where I needed the phone line to come in. It worked quite well, though I have a few suggestions for those who may decide to drill some holes of their own.

1.Always drill from the inside of the house outwards.

2.Use a solid bullet instead of a hollowpoint. Otherwise you have to fix a large hole in the siding on the outside of the house. Don't ask.

3.Do not stand too close to the wall or you will have to repaint. Again .. don't ask.

4.Make sure you know where the bullet will land. You do not want to scare the mailman and you certainly don't want to kill one of the chickens or your dog by mistake.

5.Most importantly - ALWAYS WARN THE WOMEN IN THE HOUSE BEFORE YOU SHOOT! No. Don't ask.