376 



RECREATION. 



curate than the 50-300. As to which is 

 more deadly, the answer to that question 

 must depend on the size of the animal shot, 

 the location and direction of the wound. 



The shells may be reloaded many times. 

 I use a Winchester tool and Du Pont No. I 

 smokeless powder. For shooting both car- 

 tridges from the same gun I should buy the 

 gun with the 54 inch twist. Either cartridge 

 is a better killer than the 30-30. 



Of 30-30 repeaters I prefer the Winches- 

 ter. The Savage, however, has many 

 friends. The 40-72-330 Winchester is all 

 right, too, but if one is going to buy a box 

 magazine gun, why not get a high pressure? 

 I have not used a 32 special Winchester, but 

 I have a 32-40 of practically the same 

 charge. This shoots well, though it cer- 

 tainly does require care in cleaning when 

 changing from one powder to the other. 

 It is an advantage to be able to use the ordi- 

 nary 32-40 shell in the same gun, and if you 

 do not hit with the old 32-40 you will know 

 it is not the fault of the gun or the car- 

 tridges. There can not be much difference 

 in the effect of this and the 30-30 on game ; 

 but the 32-40 is more easily cleaned and I 

 never could see the need of so quick a twist 

 as 12 inch in a gun to be used on game with- 

 in 200 yards. I presume many others re- 

 member the same thing, since we have been 

 so industriously reminded of it by the man- 

 ufacturers. I should think the 35-250 Win- 

 chester would be a good gun for use in 

 India. Who next? 



Fred B. Lang, Woodsville, N. H. 



A GUN THAT SHOT BOTH WAYS. 

 C. H. D. 



When a boy, I used to spend my vaca- 

 tions and holidays with my uncle, who had 

 and still has, a large place on the Eastern 

 shore of Maryland. He was largely in- 

 terested in dredgers and tug-boats, and was 

 often absent several days at a time, always 

 leaving me in charge of my aunt, a worthy 

 old lady, but an unusually cautious one. 



There is no place in this country for 

 ducking, like the Eastern "sho," as the 

 darkies call it, and no better location along 

 the whole Chesapeake bay than at my 

 uncle's home. Often had I watched hun- 

 dreds of wild fowl feeding among the 

 numerous celery beds, and longed for a 

 shot at them; but my uncle, a stern old 

 Dutchman, would hold up his hands in 

 horror when I begged him to let me try 

 his gun 'on them. I, being from the city, 

 was not supposed to know how to use fire- 

 arms. I think too, my mother's weekly 

 letters had something to do with this. 

 Anwhow, when my uncle went away, he 

 always laid strict injunctions on my aunt 

 not to let me have the guns, and as a fur- 

 ther guard, he used to put them under lock 

 and key. 



One day when rummaging in the attic, 

 I came across a curious old bell mouth 

 gun, that must have belonged to my great- 

 grandfather, so ancient was it in appear- 

 ance. It had originally been a flintlock, 

 but some ancestor had had it made into 

 a trigger-fire. I hugged this old musket 

 to my breast in a wild ecstasy of delight, 

 and smuggled it into my bedroom. I har- 

 nessed a horse, and went to the village for 

 ammunition. 



All that night I lay awake thinking of 

 the glorious to-morrow, and at dawn I 

 stole noislessly out of doors. Stopping at 

 the blacksmith shop, I secured an iron rod 

 which was to serve me as a ramrod; then 

 whistling for my dog, I quickly made 

 my way in the direction of the river. 

 After getting a suitable distance from the 

 house, I started in to load my musket.* 

 putting in about 6 fingers of buck shot, 

 and ramming it well home. Then silently 

 I crept to the edge of the water. 



Such a sight ! The day was just break- 

 ing, and the bay seemed lined with ducks. 

 Fearing I might not be able to get a second 

 shot, and wishing to slaughter as many 

 as possible, I hurriedly poured all the loose 

 shot from my right hand pocket into the 

 old gun. Then, putting a wad of paper on 

 the top, I put on a cap, and took deliberate 

 aim. I hardly know what happened, but 

 when my uncle returned home that morn- 

 ing, he found me, about 8 o'clock, lying 

 unconscious on the shore, and by my side 

 lay 12 ducks, which the dog had brought 

 from the bay. How many floated away, 

 would be hard to say, but the river looked 

 as if a feather-bed had been emptied in. 



I had to be carried to the house and for 

 several days I was unable to see on ac- 

 count of a huge lump between my eyes. 

 From the way my body ached that old 

 cannon must have beat a tattoo all over 

 me. When I recovered sufficiently, my 

 uncle told me that to his knowledge that 

 old gun contained 2 loads, which had been 

 in it many years, and perhaps more. I 

 think it did. He had been afraid to shoot 

 it, so had secreted it in the garret. 



This all happened 10 years ago, and since 

 then I have hunted ducks in many places, 

 but never have I equalled the record made 

 on my first expedition. I shoot with a 

 more modern gun than I used that time, 

 and while the returns may not be so large, 

 the effects are less discouraging,. 



SAVAGE COMPANY DEFENDS ITS RIFLE. 



As usual, I read Recreation, and came 

 across the article "Jammed a Savage." I 

 like to follow up everything that comes in 

 the way of criticism, especially through 

 your medium. 



We find the case of W. A. Cone peculiar. 



