Category: Hunting

When It Absolutely, Positively

Gratuitous Gun Pics, Hunting, The Gun Thing

…has to work every time it’s used, and not break, not ever.

I speak here of the dangerous game rifle — that final guarantee that the hunter won’t turn into his prey’s prey.

Now before I go any further, I need to back up a little. In the recent past, I’ve been somewhat scornful of “luxury brands” — you know what I mean:  $100,000 watches, $2million Ferraris, and, in our gunny world, $200,000 (secondhand) Purdey shotguns… the list goes on and on.

Then you get a gun manufacturer who creates a piece that is admittedly expensive – horrendously expensive — but that expense is somewhat mitigated by the fact that what their product promises is actual infallibility.  I speak here of J. Rigby’s “Rising Bite” double rifle, which is generally available only in super-manly chamberings like .416 Rigby Magnum, .470 NE (Nitro Express) and still larger diameters.  (Excuse me, I need to go and pop an ibuprofen tab because my shoulder is starting to ache, just by thinking of these massive projectiles.)

Here’s what it looks like:

And here’s the “Rising Bite” itself:

Here’s an explanation of how it works, and why it’s necessary.

Here’s one in .470 NE that recently sold for about $35,000:

Note the Rising Bite:

Excuse me… .470 Nitro?  I need another ibuprofen.

I should also point out that any proper double rifle is expensive (see this Karl Ferlach beauty here).

There is one last thing to be said, however.

While I yield to no man in my admiration for Rigby’s guns, I should point out that while their double rifles may well be worth the cost of ownership, I don’t think that’s necessarily true of their bolt-action rifles.  Why?

Because Rigby’s bolt actions are built on that of the venerable Mauser 98 (link in pic):

It’s lovely, but honestly:  at $25,000 secondhand?  You’re paying for the brand.  Me, I’d rather get a brand-new Mauser 98 for just over half the price (link ditto):

Same action, same durability and reliability… absent the desire to impress your hunting buddies when you uncase it at the hunting camp, it’s not really even a question.  (And yeah, I’m a sucker for just about any Mauser over some fancy English trinket;  go ahead and sue my ancient Boer ass.)

Honestly, no experienced PH is going to curl his lip when you take that bad boy out of the case to sight it in.  (Incidentally,”sighting in” at a hunting camp is not only about sighting in your rifle to check that it hasn’t been damaged in transit, it’s also to reassure the PH that you know what the hell you’re doing.)

And finally:  if anyone is thinking of doing an African safari anytime soon, let me know.  I do have some small knowledge of the topic in question, but by now that knowledge is severely out of date (although I do know a couple of good Seffrican hunting outfitters.).  Rather let me get the latest scoop from Mr. Free Market and Doc Russia, who are very experienced at the thing.  Also, you may want to be on good terms with your bank manager… the cost of a decent rifle is not the greatest expense you’ll incur.

Apex Stuff

Hunting

I’m sometimes asked the best way to hunt dangerous game — specifically in Africa, where there are lots of things with teeth and claws and such, waiting for an opportunity to turn the next easy target into dinner.

Let me be perfectly clear about this:  human beings are the ultimate prey for hunters like lions.  We can’t run very fast nor very far, we have no sense of smell compared to, say, lions or leopards let alone antelopes, we don’t have sharp horns or hooves to protect ourselves or cause some kind of defensive injury to a predator, and we sure as hell can’t swim like a damn crocodile.

We are, in the animal kingdom, like marshmallows.  Pork-flavored marshmallows, to be precise, just the thing to make lions sharpen their claws before putting on a dinner napkin.

So why do these dangerous animals think that we are the apex predators?

Because we don’t fight fair.  As though fighting for one’s life, or hunting down food requires us to be all Marquis-of-Queensbury types;  what foolishness.

Fuck that.  If a pride of lions wants to target a few humans for brekkie, well… say hello to an A-10 Warthog or an Apache attack helicopter, and let’s see who’s really the apex predator, Fluffy.

The only reasons we don’t use our peak powers to hunt game are because the stupid government won’t let us, the weapons are a little on the pricey side (if you think .50 Browning ammo is spendy, try a depleted-uranium 20mm boolet).  And lastly, we don’t use all that cool wizardry because it kind of messes up the trophy hides and meat somewhat.  (Not much market for half-inch-sized hides and bloody slurry instead of steaks.)

So we’re stuck with rifles like this rather pretty Chapuis Elan Classique double rifle, in .470 Nitro Express:

For those unfamiliar with this beast of a cartridge, here’s a comparison to the 8x57mm Mauser (itself no slouch in the “killin’ things” business):

And speaking of hammer blows:

Of course, if you know what you’re doing, you’ll only need one or two blows to your wallet for that Cape buff or 600-lb Kalahari lion.

If you don’t know what you’re doing, refer to my “pork-flavored marshmallow” description above.

Seriously Tough

Hunting

Mr. Free Market has been doing some Internet research (LOL) during his break from evicting widows and demolishing historic homes, and has come up with this series of African hunting escapades, the PH being the peerless Buzz  Lightyear  Charlton, who cannot be described as a Zimbabwean.  Nope, anyone who stalks his prey in the African bush wearing Crocs or Birkenstocks is a damn Rhodesian.

Eland  (which makes me realize how lucky I was to get mine)

Buffalo

Elephant

I can’t see what the clients are shooting, but Buzz carries a .500 Nitro Express double rifle.

To call him an expert PH is to make a mockery of the term “expert”.

Oh, and note that after the shot is made, the party is in no hurry to get to the downed animal.  Caveat venator.

The Old Cartridge Question

Hunting, The Gun Thing

Ron Spomer was recently challenged to name his favorite cartridges for specific animals.  The catch?  He was restricted to only those cartridges developed and commercially sold before 1950.

In case you don’t have 20 minutes to watch the video, here’s the executive summary (with my very respectful preferences in parentheses):

Elk:  .300 H&H Magnum (9.3x62mm)
Mule Deer:  .270 Win
Whitetail:  7×57 Mauser
Moose:  .30-06 Springfield (9.3x62mm)
Pronghorn Antelope:  .257 Weatherby Magnum (.25-06 Remington)
Bison:  .375 H&H Magnum
Black Bear:  .35 Whelen (.32 Win Special OR .45-70 Govt, depending on the terrain)
Grizzly Bear:  .375 H&H Magnum
Elephant:  .375 H&H Magnum (.416 Rigby)

And by the way, I have absolutely no argument with any of Ron’s choices.  My “alternatives” are a personal preference, no more.  (I’d hope that he wouldn’t have a problem with any of mine, in return.)

Of course, I have opined on those wonderful cartridges of yore, and for those New Readers or else Elderly Readers Of Fading Memory, here’s a link to that 2003 post.

Getting The Blues

Hunting, Vermin

Okay, I never expected to see this:

Swarms of pigs have been found with neon blue skin after ingesting life-threatening pesticides.  

The electric blue-skinned hogs were first reported in Monterey County, California in March when trapper, Dan Burton, discovered several wild pigs with blue fat and muscle.  He told LA Times: “It’s wild. I’m not talking about a little blue. I’m talking about neon blue, blueberry blue.”

The feral swine are thought to have ingested the rat poison from dyed bait or feeding off other infected species.

Wow.  Assuming that all the above is true and not some cock-and-bull story cooked up by The Usual Suspects, I’m not at all sure how to comment.

I’ve never supported using poisoned bait to keep vermin under control, for the same reason that I don’t support fishing with explosives:  a bullet has one intended target, whereas both explosives and poison are simply labeled “To Whom It May Concern” — i.e. it’s indiscriminate targeting.

However:  there are two known facts extant.  The first is that wild pigs are becoming a pest on a national scale.  In Texas, you don’t need a permit to hunt them, and when you do there’s no bag limit, wild pigs being regarded as vermin.  Texas farmers not only allow pig-hunters on their property, they welcome them.

The second fact is that the state of California has the same regard for hunters as landowners have for vermin.  California, more than almost any other state, hamstrings the practice of hunting with all sorts of nonsensical regulations, even in the remotest parts of the state.  So landowners, not wanting to draw attention from the state’s feral bureaucrats and law enforcement, simply use other means to control the population — such as poison.

I’m not saying I agree with the practice, but I sure as hell understand it.

But that pic is still some kind of spooky, innit?