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Thread: Dangerous Game awith A 38-40

  1. #1
    Boolit Buddy shrapnel's Avatar
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    Dangerous Game awith A 38-40

    So many opportunities wasted out there for using these old guns for more than collecting. I took the Colt Bisley 38-40 and a Colt Burgess 44-40 gopher hunting yesterday....

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  2. #2
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    The original 10mm.

  3. #3
    Boolit Master

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    good shot! nice gun, he certainly looks dangerous to me!

  4. #4
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    Glad you saw it and fired before it got you! They can be viscous! Always use enough gun!

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    With their Staple Puller Teeth snapping at you- it's good to have a gun bigger than they are! Well done!

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  6. #6
    Boolit Master 444ttd's Avatar
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    oh my God!!!!! are you alright?! jeez, they could have chewed you in half!!!!!!!!
    Ad Reipublicae his Civitatum Foederatarum Americae, ego sum fortis et libero. Ego autem non exieris ad impios communistarum socialismi. Ora imagines in vestri demented mentem, quod vos mos have misericordia, quia non.

    To the Republic of these United States of America, I am strong and free. I will never surrender to godless communist socialism. Pray to images in your demented mind, that you will have mercy, because i will not.

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    All intended as good clean fun, and just a little leg pulling! By the way, that is a beautiful old revolver.
    Are you going to have the trophy mounted?

  8. #8
    Boolit Buddy
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    Ain't never seen one of those in person did it charge?

  9. #9
    Boolit Master
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    Quote Originally Posted by Der Gebirgsjager View Post
    All intended as good clean fun, and just a little leg pulling! By the way, that is a beautiful old revolver.
    Are you going to have the trophy mounted?
    I imagine it would set a feller back a grand or so don’t you think? .... The taxidermy work that is .....

    Three44s
    Quote Originally Posted by Bret4207

    “There is more to this than dumping lead in a hole.”

  10. #10
    Boolit Buddy shrapnel's Avatar
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    There is a small creek running through the property, so I took some time off to see if there were any fish in it. I found a snake and some fish...

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    One of my favorite calibers! Any pics of the Colt Burgess?

  12. #12
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    That looks like a classic Sako, I'll bet it's a .222.

  13. #13
    Boolit Buddy shrapnel's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Gewehr-Guy View Post
    That looks like a classic Sako, I'll bet it's a .222.
    Actually it is a 22 Hornet. I have several of those in 218 Bee, 22 Hornet, 222 and the really rare 7X33...

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  14. #14
    Boolit Buddy shrapnel's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by smithnframe View Post
    One of my favorite calibers! Any pics of the Colt Burgess?
    Click image for larger version. 

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  15. #15
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    shrapnel

    Those can definitely be very dangerous, glad you survived the encounter.

    one of my experiences....

    When I lived over in NE Oregon every 1st week or so of May I was duty bound to go into the high sage out on the veldt and eliminate the rogue chisel tooths. These were the ones the tourists from the big cities and their local yokel PHs would just wound with under powered rifles, usually of .22LR persuasion with that cheap ammo sold in bargain "bricks" for the tourist trade. It is not good form when one of the locals gets their Vibrams scarred by a rogue chisel tooth....very bad form, old chap, for the local touchy feely yuppie businesses as they say.

    Out on the open plains and pastures a cartridge of lessor power most often proves sufficient but with poor shooting sometimes the wounded chisel tooth gets into the dense sage and goes rogue. The local yokel PHs and tourist seldom "follow up" on such. That leads to a dangerous situation as the rogue will get meaner with every passing day. Then someone has to foray into the high sage and "sort things out".

    I was one of the few who had a rifle of "sufficient caliber" with which I could "stand the charge" when the rogues would charge, generally at very close quarters in the dense thickness of the high desert veldt sage. Most often in such situations when sorting out the problem I used my 450-400-70 (Siamese Mauser in 45-70) with the scope removed for the quicker use of the express sights at such close quarters. On the first foray after a particularly nasty rogue I had a close escape when using a hard cast 457483 of 400 gr weight at 2100 fps. The charge came fast and low as they it usually does. My first shot just nicked the top of the chisel boss and deflected without penetrating to the brain. Fortunately, the shot "turned" the rogue and working the bolt very quickly I got in a solid quartering shot that "spined" him before he could turn for another charge. Obviously, the bluff nose and soft alloy of that bullet and the less than adequate SD would not do. I repaired back to the safari main camp where I had a top drawer mould of 500 gr. I quickly cast up some Lee C457-500-FNs, WQ'd them and loaded them the next day to 2050 fps, checked the zero and began putting together a kit for another foray.

    I did not have long to wait before the next call to duty came. The next morning the local game warden stopped by, only time he ever stopped by was to drink coffee and weasel reloading info out of me, but he did smoke decent cigars which I always managed to get one so I put up with him, besides he was a fairly nice guy. I knew he was working up to something because he spent 2 hours over several cups of coffee telling me how busy he was with the spotted toad project. I finally told him to just spit out what he wanted.

    He said they'd had a report of a family of Californians that was being terrorized down North Powder way and he was really busy with the spotted toads and would I, because I had a proper rifle and knew how to hunt rogue chisel tooths, etc. go down and sort it out the problem. I sat there for a moment trying to decide whether the forlorn look on his face was fear that he’d have to go, or that the coffee pot was empty! He finally couldn’t stand it any longer and said; “well, ya gonna do it?” I looked at him and said, yeah, I’ll do it but it’s going to cost you….with that I reached over and took the 3 cigars he had in his shirt pocket. Hmmmm, one of them was a Gurkha so the pay wasn’t too bad or so it appeared. He left in a huff…..after he filled his thermos with the better portion of the fresh pot of coffee I’d just brewed during that exchange….said he call me later in the evening for the details as he was going to have file a report the next day.

    I grabbed my kit, the 450-400-70 rifle and 20 of the new loads and headed south in the jeep. Didn’t take long once I was in the area to locate the terrified California tourists as all I had to do was follow the trail of laughing cowboys who couldn’t say much but just point in the general direction. The motor home stood out like Too Tall Jones in a pigmy village. Ma and the kids were locked inside still screaming. Fido was barking at the edge of the sage along the slow traffic pullout they had stopped at along the side of the old highway. I don’t think they pulled over ‘cause they were driving slow to enjoy the scenic sage brush…... Seems the fresh toilet paper strung across the barbed wire fence, the whole roll was strung out some 20 – 30 yards into the sage which was the a dead giveaway as to why they stopped. Pa was outside with the hood up(or whatever they call the engine cover on one of them things) using a two pronged wiener roasting stick in one hand and a kitty treat in the other trying to coax the family feline into coming out of the engine compartment.

    I walked up and asked if they were the ones who had seen the rogue. He stood up and instantly the sweat popped out on his forehead. He said they sure were, and it darned near got his wife, chased her clear from the sage where she was…well….uh…er…uh….tinkling! He said he had had to go bad and pulled over and went into the bathroom in the motor home. The misses said she wasn’t going in there after him, so she and the little girl grabbed the TP and went beyond the fence. The misses was holding the little girl while she squatted when they heard the blood curdling chirp and the rogue charged. The misses grabbed the girl, picked her up and started to run but the girl wasn’t quite done.

    He said he’d just come out of the motorhome when then came the most terrifying scream he ever heard his wife make. I just nodded noticing the front of him…he looked down and said, “oh yeah, I heard the ruckus, I was done in the bathroom…it was pretty bad so I come outside for some fresh air…. and I run to the fence to help. The misses runs up to the fence and threw the girl over the fence to me”. He said “what was he to do but catch the girl… and a good thing he’d been recruited to try out for the Rams as an End…. “back in the day”…. and then run back to the trailer ‘cept the girl still wasn’t done yet.” That fact was very obvious from the front of his shirt and pants…..

    Now, to add to the cacophony, the misses was screaming, the girl was screaming and the boy was yelling at the dog to get in the darn motorhome. It was about then I also noticed the half of pant leg from capri pants hanging on the fence. He said the misses had undone her pants and hadn’t thought to fasten them before she started to run, and besides she had the girl in her arms who still wasn’t done…….and he looked down at the wet front of his own shirt and pants He then pointed to the pant leg that got caught on the fence sayin’ there was no way the misses was slowing down with that horrible creature on the loose. I was going to ask; “which horrible creature” but held my tongue, it must of been quite a sight though!

    Apparently the four humans and the dog made it into the motor home and the cat took refuge in the engine compartment. I asked him to kindly quit waving the wiener roasting stick (with two very sharp prongs) around and, just what was he doing with it anyways. He looked all indignant and said he was defending his family with the only weapon he owned! I just shook my head and asked if they seen the rogue and which way did it go. He said; “see it hell! It damned near got me! Just look at this”…at which he held up his foot and sure enough... there in the Vibram sole of his high tech made in China light weight all terrain winter summer weather water proof and breathable hiking shoes was the unmistakable twin gouges of a fresh chisel tooth strike!

    With that I walked over to my Jeep, put on my “tracking belt” with canteen, K-Bar, Ruger .44 BHFT in a Bianchi high ride holster, pouch with 18 extra .44 rounds and belt pouch with 6 extra 450-400-70 cartridges in it. I thought about the Ziess 10x40s but instead picked up the old pair of milsurp 6x35s as those would be much better for the close quarters work ahead. Taking out the rifle, loading the magazine with 3 of the hard cast 500 gr FN loaded cartridges I then topped it off slipping one up the spout, put the safety on and headed for the point in the sage line where “Pa” had pointed to where the rogue was last seen. Then, in retrospect born of long experience, I walked back to the jeep and put the other ten 450-400-70s in my safari jacket pocket. It could be a long afternoon.

    The Sun was searing a scorched path down the backside of the Elkhorn Mountains as the rogue’s fresh spore I had been on for what seemed like hours moving a step at a time and searching the close dense sage around me for any sign of the rogue laying in ambush. The single tracks then doubled! He had picked up a partner, probably another of the old bachelor bulls that tend to run together. Even when not wounded they are nothing to trifle with. I noticed suddenly the tracks turned back to the right on the down wind side of the trail I was on. The sweat was already streaking down my back and it sent hot/cold chills up my spine. I’d seen this before; the rogue and his partner had “button hooked” back on the trail and were now behind me......where? I already had the rifle shouldered and ready, my thumb having reached up and snicking the safety off. As I slowly pivoted around I was straining hard to hear the slightest rustle; the smallest sound of a leaf being scrunched, the lightest noise of a blade of grass sliding against another. My mouth was bone dry. No time for the canteen, I knew they were there and …..they knew I was there.

    The moment came as quick as quick as “last call” to the town drunk, the charge was low and fast as it always was. The rogue was a blur of movement, his head down coming as fast as his legs could move. I knew he would turn the chisels up in just a few short yards and those yards were closing fast. I had no place to sidestep as he had picked the spot well, high thick sage on each side of the trail, I was boxed in..... I had just enough time to notice this wasn’t the rogue charging, this was the old bachelor bull. No time to panic, just deal with the immediate problem at hand. It felt like my heart was in my throat and was going to explode! The sights were on with the big bead front in the rear “V” lined up right between the eyes, careful not to hit the boss of the chisel.

    On recoil, as I was working the bolt, I saw the shot had gone true and the charging old bachelor’s knees buckle. A quick glance further along the downwind side saw the rogue was staring straight at me just a few short yards away, a beautiful ambush I had walked into! Unfortunately, in this case, I was the ambushee not the ambushor.I quickly turned to my left as the rogue was beginning his charge, he was the dangerous one as wounded I knew a poor shot would not turn him. Fortunately he had to veer around several sage, thus I barely had sufficient time to bring the 450-400-70 to bear on him. The sights came up instinctively with the shot breaking as soon as the large bead front sight centered between and a tudge below his eyes. The shot was good taking him between solidly to aim, the 500 gr hard cast slug penetrating to the brain... he slid, in cloud swirl of dust to a stop at my feet. I quickly paid the insurance shot and turned back to the first. No need for the insurance shot as he was stone cold dead but, what the hell, I paid it anyway.

    As I crossed the fence near the jeep the motorhome was long gone, not even a note of thanks, just a large wad of TP and the rest of the roll still on the fence. I pulled out the camp chair, opened the cooler, slid my canteen cup through the ice and then poured a stiff “sundowner” of Tangle Ridge. Sitting down in the camp chair with the rifle across my lap I pulled the Gurhka cigar out and lit it up. A long pull on the cigar and then a longer pull on the canteen cup as I watched the Sun give up it’s last light down behind the mountains…..that’s when the shakes set in……

    Larry Gibson
    Last edited by Larry Gibson; 06-01-2020 at 12:48 PM.
    Larry Gibson

    “Deficient observation is merely a form of ignorance and responsible for the many morbid notions and foolish ideas prevailing.”
    ― Nikola Tesla

  16. #16
    Boolit Buddy dave roelle's Avatar
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    Perfect Larry, simply perfect !!!!!

  17. #17
    Boolit Master

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    I think ya mighta missed your calling Larry.....


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  18. #18
    Boolit Buddy
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    Great story Larry, worthy of PH Capstick himself.

  19. #19
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    The Good Lord was surely looking out for you that day. Your choice of the Siamese Mauser was excellent, and so much the better that you weren't burdened with an Asperly Aimless. Well done! Had this occurred just yesterday instead of years ago, the abandoned toilet paper would have been sufficient reward.

  20. #20
    Boolit Buddy
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    Shrap,
    Good to see you here too.

    Larry actually wrote another short story, War and Peace.

    Thanks, Dinny
    I prefer peace. But if trouble must come, let it come in my time, so that my children can live in peace.

    Thomas Paine

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Abbreviations used in Reloading

BP Bronze Point IMR Improved Military Rifle PTD Pointed
BR Bench Rest M Magnum RN Round Nose
BT Boat Tail PL Power-Lokt SP Soft Point
C Compressed Charge PR Primer SPCL Soft Point "Core-Lokt"
HP Hollow Point PSPCL Pointed Soft Point "Core Lokt" C.O.L. Cartridge Overall Length
PSP Pointed Soft Point Spz Spitzer Point SBT Spitzer Boat Tail
LRN Lead Round Nose LWC Lead Wad Cutter LSWC Lead Semi Wad Cutter
GC Gas Check