SurfCutter
New member
Back in the early 80's when I was just getting into firearms one of the interests I picked up was hunting Whistle Pigs, ..a.k.a. Woodchucks ,,, Over the years I had been witness to the damage they had caused to the gardens and fields locally so when I had the chance to even the score as they say I became very deliberate in my killings ....
At first my attempts were at best laughable with many attempts , and stocks that resulted in either missed shots or no target ..It was only after I looked over both my methods and equipment did i start to form what my friend and I called Murder Inc.
First was my selection of weaponry , dad's old 1148 Remington shotgun was not the best of choices , so that was upgraded to a lil' take-down Browning .22 Autoloader this was farther refined with a small colt woodsmen after a number of other .22 pistols , but my all time favorite was my Colt 1911A1 .45 Auto.
Now some hunt with the idea that range is the thing , the greater the better to which I bow to , me I hold no such ideals murder is the game and to this end I had no problem with if close was good , closer was better .... Kill was the name of the game .
To give you an idea of just how far I took this I relate one of the my more memorable hunts in the following at the risk of repeating if so please forgive me .....
It was a very hot day in early August my best friend Peter and I had meet up early that morning to spend the day hunting 'pigs on the local farms . Like most farmers they care little for the number of 'pigs killed on their farm but if they see one ' pig day in and day out that is the one that bothers them the most and all others are just numbers ... Old Man Hanson was no exception to this rule ...His 'pig had taken up resident's in the small field between the house and the barn and just in back of the roadside veggie stand.
Both Peter and I had made many at temps to get this pig only to come back empty handed it just was to lucky and wary to fall to our gun . We both had made many rounds walking and stocking the whole farm that day taking targets of opportunity but only to fail if we tried to stock this 'pig. No matter what direction we tried to sneak up on the 'pig it would dive in to it's hole and not follow the usual habits of it's kin to come up and take one more look within a few minutes of going to ground . We both had spent a lot of time waiting in ambush position behind the hole hoping it would try to take that look and give us a chance to send it to a better field .... after spend the morning of this day hunting this pig and failing I looked out from the base of the tree on the top of the hill we called headquarters and again saw our foe . Old man Hanson could see this 'pig from his window at breakfast or from the open door in the milk-room of the barn worst was the back window of the stand.
I told Peter that if I stocked this lil varmint again I was not coming back until I had it's hide . I set off and little always I got to 3/4 of the way only to watch the 'pig go to ground , normally would race up to the hole and get in position behind and wait but experience had shown us that with this 'pig it was a waste of time once down it would stay it was almost like it could still see you and after you had walked away and was half to 3/4 of the way across the field did it show itself .
Well I got in to position , that was I laid down on my belly and cocked my loaded 1911A1 with my special hand-loaded round ball normally used for black-powder guns but I loaded in a 45 case and waited in the heat of the afternoon sun ....
One hour and 25 minutes later I am watching the hole when I see the very tip of a nose start to peek out , it was followed by a top of a head and as that head slowly came out and turned up to see the top of the hole I fired ...drilling it into the side of the much hated foe ..... if the end of the barrel was less than an 1/4 inch away it was not by much .... The cheer from both my friend Peter and Old Man Hanson from across the field was very gratifying for they both had watched this play out one very hot August afternoon ....
Bill g.
At first my attempts were at best laughable with many attempts , and stocks that resulted in either missed shots or no target ..It was only after I looked over both my methods and equipment did i start to form what my friend and I called Murder Inc.
First was my selection of weaponry , dad's old 1148 Remington shotgun was not the best of choices , so that was upgraded to a lil' take-down Browning .22 Autoloader this was farther refined with a small colt woodsmen after a number of other .22 pistols , but my all time favorite was my Colt 1911A1 .45 Auto.
Now some hunt with the idea that range is the thing , the greater the better to which I bow to , me I hold no such ideals murder is the game and to this end I had no problem with if close was good , closer was better .... Kill was the name of the game .
To give you an idea of just how far I took this I relate one of the my more memorable hunts in the following at the risk of repeating if so please forgive me .....
It was a very hot day in early August my best friend Peter and I had meet up early that morning to spend the day hunting 'pigs on the local farms . Like most farmers they care little for the number of 'pigs killed on their farm but if they see one ' pig day in and day out that is the one that bothers them the most and all others are just numbers ... Old Man Hanson was no exception to this rule ...His 'pig had taken up resident's in the small field between the house and the barn and just in back of the roadside veggie stand.
Both Peter and I had made many at temps to get this pig only to come back empty handed it just was to lucky and wary to fall to our gun . We both had made many rounds walking and stocking the whole farm that day taking targets of opportunity but only to fail if we tried to stock this 'pig. No matter what direction we tried to sneak up on the 'pig it would dive in to it's hole and not follow the usual habits of it's kin to come up and take one more look within a few minutes of going to ground . We both had spent a lot of time waiting in ambush position behind the hole hoping it would try to take that look and give us a chance to send it to a better field .... after spend the morning of this day hunting this pig and failing I looked out from the base of the tree on the top of the hill we called headquarters and again saw our foe . Old man Hanson could see this 'pig from his window at breakfast or from the open door in the milk-room of the barn worst was the back window of the stand.
I told Peter that if I stocked this lil varmint again I was not coming back until I had it's hide . I set off and little always I got to 3/4 of the way only to watch the 'pig go to ground , normally would race up to the hole and get in position behind and wait but experience had shown us that with this 'pig it was a waste of time once down it would stay it was almost like it could still see you and after you had walked away and was half to 3/4 of the way across the field did it show itself .
Well I got in to position , that was I laid down on my belly and cocked my loaded 1911A1 with my special hand-loaded round ball normally used for black-powder guns but I loaded in a 45 case and waited in the heat of the afternoon sun ....
One hour and 25 minutes later I am watching the hole when I see the very tip of a nose start to peek out , it was followed by a top of a head and as that head slowly came out and turned up to see the top of the hole I fired ...drilling it into the side of the much hated foe ..... if the end of the barrel was less than an 1/4 inch away it was not by much .... The cheer from both my friend Peter and Old Man Hanson from across the field was very gratifying for they both had watched this play out one very hot August afternoon ....
Bill g.
Patience paid off Bill, WTG!
Way to hang in there! 