|
|
Post by spence on May 21, 2019 17:56:38 GMT -7
It has been a while since I did any hunting, so I decided to try the spring squirrels, today. It was a warm, cloudy day with a bit of a breeze. I went colonial, breeches and cotton shirt, linen farmers smock, leggings and moccasins, checked neckerchief, flop hat. My 20 gauge flintlock smoothbore was loaded for a squirrel hunt in late February and not fired, so I only needed to prick the vent and prime. The load was 67 grains 2F Goex, one hard card, tow, 75 grains equivalent of #5 shot, more tow. I got started late morning, hiked about a quarter-mile into the woods, picked out a nice little nook for cooking my lunch and dropped off everything not essential for hunting.  I wasn’t expecting much activity, my record on spring squirrels is not impressive. I was in for a surprise. I hadn’t gone 75 yards when a squirrel moved about 25 yards in front of me, on the ground but climbing into some dense cedars. I raised my gun and watched for it to move again, And watched. And watched. About to give up, I noticed a dark lump on a small limb of the cedar that didn’t appear to belong there. I concentrated on that for a couple of minutes, certain it was a bunch of leaves...but maybe not. The bright sky as background made everything a sort of silhouette, hard to see details. It could be a squirrel facing me. I decided to take the shot, ignition was quick, and there was a lot of smoke. When it cleared everything was quiet, no motion, no sound. I hadn’t heard that thump I like so much. I began a leisurely reload, assuming the squirrel was a mile away by now. Just a couple of minutes later, there it was again, moving in the cedar. It went to the ground, back into the tree, back to the ground, around and around over there. I was trying to load faster, now, but it disappeared before I finished. Standing there wondering what had happened, I had a “déjà vu all over again”. There was another lump on another cedar limb almost behind where the first had been, in the same tree. This one looked like a side view of a squirrel, but again, absolutely no movement. I essentially decided ‘in for a penny in for a pound’ and took the shot, again. That time I saw the squirrel fall, heard that good old thump. I moved to the tree and saw the squirrel dead...and the first one also dead not three feet from it. I’ve been hunting squirrels about 75 years, off and on. I’m about to decide I’ll never get them figured out. The second shot was loaded just like the first, except that the wadding was cedar bark instead of tow. The tree I shot those squirrels out of was a perfect cedar for collecting bark, so I replenished my supply, and then some.  My daily quota in the bag, I returned to my nook to do lunch. The day was mostly cloudy, enough so that the burning glass was not the best choice for starting a fire, so I used the lock of my flintlock. I merely folded some charcloth into the pan, closed the frizzen and tripped the hammer. Very efficient and reliable, in my experience. James Trabue spoke of stopping his touchhole with tallow before using his lock the same way in 1778, but I’ve never found that to be necessary, as long as I cover the touchhole with the cloth. I’ve never had the gun fire by doing that, and I’ve done it many times. Once the fire was going I put sassafras tea on to boil, and in a few minutes had a hot cup, sweetened with brown sugar. I had brought along a piece of chicken for my lunch, so I put it on a stick and propped it over the coals to roast. I spent the next 45 minutes, or so, throwing the tomahawk at a dead tree, shooting ball with the smoothbore at a charcoal X and just generally enjoying being out. I don’t get out enough, these days, and I needed it. When the chicken was cooked through and golden brown I had lunch. I’ve eaten in some fancy, highfalutin restaurants in my time, but none of them can compare to lunch done that way. Food for the soul is never on their menu.  My very first hunts when a boy were squirrel hunts, and there is a very good chance my last will be, also. I will not be the least bit disappointed if it works out that way. Spence |
|
|
|
Post by brokennock on May 21, 2019 19:28:48 GMT -7
Thank you as always for sharing. Greatly appreciated. Sounds like a really nice, and therapeutic, day afield. I really need one of those.
I like that line about "food for the soul," never being on "their menu."
|
|
Keith
City-dweller
Bushfire close but safe now. Getting some good rain.
Posts: 990 
|
Post by Keith on May 21, 2019 19:44:01 GMT -7
It has been a while since I did any hunting, so I decided to try the spring squirrels, today. It was a warm, cloudy day with a bit of a breeze. I went colonial, breeches and cotton shirt, linen farmers smock,, leggings and moccasins, checked neckerchief, flop hat. My 20 gauge flintlock smoothbore was loaded for a squirrel hunt in late February and not fired, so I only needed to prick the vent and prime. The load was 67 grains 2F Goex, one hard card, tow, 75 grains equivalent of #5 shot, more tow. I got started late morning, hiked about a quarter-mile into the woods, picked out a nice little nook for cooking my lunch and dropped off everything not essential for hunting. I wasn’t expecting much activity, my record on spring squirrels is not impressive. I was in for a surprise. I hadn’t gone 75 yards when a squirrel moved about 25 yards in front of me, on the ground but climbing into some dense cedars. I raised my gun and watched for it to move again, And watched. And watched. About to give up, I noticed a dark lump on a small limb of the cedar that didn’t appear to belong there. I concentrated on that for a couple of minutes, certain it was a bunch of leaves...but maybe not. The bright sky as background made everything a sort of silhouette, hard to see details. It could be a squirrel facing me. I decided to take the shot, ignition was quick, and there was a lot of smoke. When it cleared everything was quiet, no motion, no sound. I hadn’t heard that thump I like so much. I began a leisurely reload, assuming the squirrel was a mile away by now. Just a couple of minutes later, there it was again, moving in the cedar. It went to the ground, back into the tree, back to the ground, around and around over there. I was trying to load faster, now, but it disappeared before I finished. Standing there wondering what had happened, I had a “déjà vu all over again”. There was another lump on another cedar limb almost behind where the first had been, in the same tree. This one looked like a side view of a squirrel, but again, absolutely no movement. I essentially decided ‘in for a penny in for a pound’ and took the shot, again. That time I saw the squirrel fall, heard that good old thump. I moved to the tree and saw the squirrel dead...and the first one also dead not three feet from it. I’ve been hunting squirrels about 75 years, off and on. I’m about to decide I’ll never get them figured out. The second shot was loaded just like the first, except that the wadding was cedar bark instead of tow. The tree I shot those squirrels out of was a perfect cedar for collecting bark, so I replenished my supply, and then some. My daily quota in the bag, I returned to my nook to do lunch. The day was mostly cloudy, enough so that the burning glass was not the best choice for starting a fire, so I used the lock of my flintlock. I merely folded some charcloth into the pan, closed the frizzen and tripped the hammer. Very efficient and reliable, in my experience. James Trabue spoke of stopping his touchhole with tallow before using his lock the same way in 1778, but I’ve never found that to be necessary, as long as I cover the touchhole with the cloth. I’ve never had the gun fire by doing that, and I’ve done it many times. Once the fire was going I put sassafras tea on to boil, and in a few minutes had a hot cup, sweetened with brown sugar. I had brought along a piece of chicken for my lunch, so I put it on a stick and propped it over the coals to roast. I spent the next 45 minutes, or so, throwing the tomahawk at a dead tree, shooting ball with the smoothbore at a charcoal X and just generally enjoying being out. I don’t get out enough, these days, and I needed it. When the chicken was cooked through and golden brown I had lunch. I’ve eaten in some fancy, highfalutin restaurants in my time, but none of them can compare to lunch done that way. Food for the soul is never on their menu. My very first hunts when a boy were squirrel hunts, and there is a very good chance my last will be, also. I will not be the least bit disappointed if it works out that way. Spence A good post my friend, a very enjoyable read. Thank you for sharing Spence. Regards, Keith. |
|
|
|
Post by Black Hand on May 21, 2019 19:50:25 GMT -7
Excellent trip - Thanks Spence!
|
|
|
|
Post by Sicilianhunter on May 23, 2019 6:35:42 GMT -7
It has been a while since I did any hunting, so I decided to try the spring squirrels, today. It was a warm, cloudy day with a bit of a breeze. I went colonial, breeches and cotton shirt, linen farmers smock,, leggings and moccasins, checked neckerchief, flop hat. My 20 gauge flintlock smoothbore was loaded for a squirrel hunt in late February and not fired, so I only needed to prick the vent and prime. The load was 67 grains 2F Goex, one hard card, tow, 75 grains equivalent of #5 shot, more tow. I got started late morning, hiked about a quarter-mile into the woods, picked out a nice little nook for cooking my lunch and dropped off everything not essential for hunting. I wasn’t expecting much activity, my record on spring squirrels is not impressive. I was in for a surprise. I hadn’t gone 75 yards when a squirrel moved about 25 yards in front of me, on the ground but climbing into some dense cedars. I raised my gun and watched for it to move again, And watched. And watched. About to give up, I noticed a dark lump on a small limb of the cedar that didn’t appear to belong there. I concentrated on that for a couple of minutes, certain it was a bunch of leaves...but maybe not. The bright sky as background made everything a sort of silhouette, hard to see details. It could be a squirrel facing me. I decided to take the shot, ignition was quick, and there was a lot of smoke. When it cleared everything was quiet, no motion, no sound. I hadn’t heard that thump I like so much. I began a leisurely reload, assuming the squirrel was a mile away by now. Just a couple of minutes later, there it was again, moving in the cedar. It went to the ground, back into the tree, back to the ground, around and around over there. I was trying to load faster, now, but it disappeared before I finished. Standing there wondering what had happened, I had a “déjà vu all over again”. There was another lump on another cedar limb almost behind where the first had been, in the same tree. This one looked like a side view of a squirrel, but again, absolutely no movement. I essentially decided ‘in for a penny in for a pound’ and took the shot, again. That time I saw the squirrel fall, heard that good old thump. I moved to the tree and saw the squirrel dead...and the first one also dead not three feet from it. I’ve been hunting squirrels about 75 years, off and on. I’m about to decide I’ll never get them figured out. The second shot was loaded just like the first, except that the wadding was cedar bark instead of tow. The tree I shot those squirrels out of was a perfect cedar for collecting bark, so I replenished my supply, and then some. My daily quota in the bag, I returned to my nook to do lunch. The day was mostly cloudy, enough so that the burning glass was not the best choice for starting a fire, so I used the lock of my flintlock. I merely folded some charcloth into the pan, closed the frizzen and tripped the hammer. Very efficient and reliable, in my experience. James Trabue spoke of stopping his touchhole with tallow before using his lock the same way in 1778, but I’ve never found that to be necessary, as long as I cover the touchhole with the cloth. I’ve never had the gun fire by doing that, and I’ve done it many times. Once the fire was going I put sassafras tea on to boil, and in a few minutes had a hot cup, sweetened with brown sugar. I had brought along a piece of chicken for my lunch, so I put it on a stick and propped it over the coals to roast. I spent the next 45 minutes, or so, throwing the tomahawk at a dead tree, shooting ball with the smoothbore at a charcoal X and just generally enjoying being out. I don’t get out enough, these days, and I needed it. When the chicken was cooked through and golden brown I had lunch. I’ve eaten in some fancy, highfalutin restaurants in my time, but none of them can compare to lunch done that way. Food for the soul is never on their menu. My very first hunts when a boy were squirrel hunts, and there is a very good chance my last will be, also. I will not be the least bit disappointed if it works out that way. Spence Spence, Sounds like a great day out to me!! Thanks for the pics as well, they always help sum your writing. I appreciate your sentiments, observations and musings a great deal!! The Sicilian |
|
|
|
Post by spence on May 23, 2019 10:58:12 GMT -7
As I was puttering around making lunch after collecting my squirrels, I was thinking about shooting them. My gun had been loaded for 3 months, but ignition was as fast as normal. I used a historical wadding for the first shot, a reasonable substitute collected from the wild for the second. Both squirrels were thoroughly killed at a bit more than 25 yards, in rapid succession. And, importantly, it never occurred to me that the gun might not fire. I took both shots with as much confidence as I ever have with a modern firearm. That’s not the general picture many in the hobby have of flintlock guns. I think it highlights the fact that the equipment is much more efficient and reliable than generally believed, as long as the shooter puts in the time and effort to learn the craft.
It takes time, but it’s not complicated. I believe at least 98% of all the bandwidth used in trying to find that secret, exotic cleaning method, magic patch lube, perfect patch material, etc., is a complete waste. I clean with water, lube my patches and my guns with lard-beeswax, etc., and absolutely can depend on performance such as I experienced on this hunt. It seems a shame to me that more in the hobby don’t understand that.
Spence
|
|
|
|
Post by Black Hand on May 23, 2019 13:50:01 GMT -7
It takes time, but it’s not complicated. I believe at least 98% of all the bandwidth used in trying to find that secret, exotic cleaning method, magic patch lube, perfect patch material, etc., is a complete waste. I clean with water, lube my patches and my guns with lard-beeswax, etc., and absolutely can depend on performance such as I experienced on this hunt. It seems a shame to me that more in the hobby don’t understand that. Well-said! How will you cook the squirrels? |
|
|
|
Post by spence on May 23, 2019 14:23:20 GMT -7
Those were both young, tender squirrels, would do well just pan fried...but I've been baking my squirrels lately, and will do that, I suppose. I bake them in a Romertopf red clay cooker, with potatoes and onions, and they are right tasty, fall-off-the-bone tender. Like this.  Spence |
|
|
|
Post by Black Hand on May 23, 2019 14:58:28 GMT -7
Looks delicious! The Romertopf cookers are great.
|
|
|
|
Post by spence on May 23, 2019 17:04:16 GMT -7
Yes, they do a very good job. I like to use them because baking pots essentially the same have been excavated at Jamestown, 17th century. If you shoot squirrels with a flintlock it seems only fair they be baked in a historic pot.   Spence |
|
|
|
Post by brokennock on May 23, 2019 18:35:34 GMT -7
" as long as the shooter puts in the time and effort to learn the craft."
Can we get an, AMEN! Brothers and Sisters.
Those clay pot cookers are wonderful. I love mine for pork roast. Bury it in the pot with sliced red cabbage, sliced up apples, a little onion, sea salt and fresh ground black pepper, cook till perfection. Serve with a good unfiltered hard cider, Lyman Orchard's 1776 cider, or DownEast being my current favorites.
|
|
