ps
try www.accuratereloaders.com
its a cool hunt place.
i think i spelled correctly???????????????????????
try www.accuratereloaders.com
its a cool hunt place.
i think i spelled correctly???????????????????????
Literary Outdoors
- Thread starter john
- Start date
They were driving slowly along the high bank of the stream which here cut deeply to its boulder-filled bed, and they wound in and out through big trees as they drove. Macomber was watching the opposite bank when he felt Wilson take hold of his arm. The car stopped.
"There he is," he heard the whisper. "Ahead and to the right. Get out and take him. He's a marvellous lion."
Macomber saw the lion now. He was standing almost broadside, his great head up and turned toward them. The early morning breeze that blew toward them was just stirring his dark mane, and the lion looked huge, silhouetted on the rise of bank in the gray morning light, his shoulders heavy, his barrel of a body bulking smoothly.
"How far is he?" asked Macomber, raising his rifle.
"About seventy-five. Get out and take him."
"Why not shoot from where I am?"
"You don't shoot them from cars," he heard Wilson saying in his ear. "Get out. He's not going to stay there all day."
Macomber stepped out of the curved opening at the side of the front seat, onto the step and down onto the ground. The lion still stood looking majestically and coolly toward this object that his eyes only showed in silhouette, bulking like some super-rhino. There was no man smell carried toward him and he watched the object, moving his great head a little from side to side. Then watching the object, not afraid, but hesitating before going down the bank to drink with such a thing opposite him, he saw a man figure detach itself from it and he turned his heavy head and swung away toward the cover of the trees as he heard a cracking crash and felt the slam of a .30-06 220-grain solid bullet that bit his flank and ripped in sudden hot scalding nausea through his stomach. He trotted, heavy, big-footed, swinging wounded full-bellied, through the trees toward the tall grass and cover, and the crash came again to go past him ripping the air apart. Then it crashed again and he felt the blow as it hit his lower ribs and ripped on through, blood sudden hot and frothy in his mouth, and he galloped toward the high grass where he could crouch and not be seen and make them bring the crashing thing close enough so he could make a rush and get the man that held it.
Macomber had no thought how the lion felt as he got out of the car. He only new his hands were shaking and as he walked away from the car it was almost impossible for him to make his legs move. They were stiff in the thighs, but he could feel the muscles fluttering. He raised the rifle, sighted on the junction of the lion's head and shoulders and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened though he pulled until he thought his finger would break. Then he knew he had the safety on and as he lowered the rifle to move the safety over he moved another frozen pace forward, and the lion seeing his silhouette now clear of the silhouette of the car, turned and started off at a trot, and, as Macomber fired, he heard a whunk that meant that the bullet hit home; but the lion kept on going. Macomber shot again and every one saw the bullet throw a spout of dirt beyond the trotting lion. He shot again, remembering to lower his aim, and they all heard the bullet hit, and the lion went into a gallop and was in the tall grass before he had the bolt pushed forward.
Macomber stood there feeling sick at his stomach, his hands that held the Springfield still cocked, shaking, and his wife and Robert Wilson were standing by him. Beside him too were the two gun-bearers chattering in Wakamba.
"I hit him," Macomber said. "I hit him twice."
"You gut-shot him and you hit him somewhere forward," Wilson said without enthusiasm. The gun-bearers looked very grave. They were silent now.
"You may have killed him," Wilson went on. "We'll have to wait a while before we go in to find out."
"What do you mean?"
"Let him get sick before we follow him up."
"Oh," said Macomber.
"He's a hell of a fine lion," Wilson said cheerfully. "He's gotten into a bad place though."
"Why is it bad?"
"Can't see him until you're on him."
"Oh," said Macomber.
"Come on," said Wilson. "The Memsahib can stay here in the car. We'll go to have a look at the blood spoor."
"Stay here, Margot," Macomber said to his wife. His mouth was very dry and it was hard for him to talk.
"Why?" she asked.
"Wilson says to."
"We're going to have a look," Wilson said. "You stay here. You can see even better from here."
"All right."
Wilson spoke in Swahili to the driver. He nodded and said, "Yes, Bwana."
Then they went down the steep bank and across the stream, climbing over and around the boulders and up the other bank, pulling up by some projecting roots, and along it until they found where the lion had been trotting when Macomber first shot. There was dark blood on the short grass that the gun-bearers pointed out with grass stems, and that ran away behind the river bank trees.
"What do we do?" asked Macomber.
"Not much choice," said Wilson. "We can't bring the car over. Bank's too steep. We'll let him stiffen up a bit and then you and I'll go in and have a look for him."
"Can't we set the grass on fire?" Macomber asked.
"Too green."
"Can't we send beaters?"
Wilson looked at him appraisingly. "Of course we can," he said. "But it's a touch murderous. You see we know the lion's wounded. You can drive an unwounded lion?he'll move on ahead of a noise?but a wounded lion's going to charge. You can't see him until you're right on him. He'll make himself perfectly flat in cover you wouldn't think would hide a hare. You can't very well send boys in there to that sort of a show. Somebody bound to get mauled."
"What about the gun-bearers?"
"Oh, they'll go with us. It's their shauri. You see, they signed on for it. They don't look too happy though, do they?"
"I don't want to go in there," said Macomber. It was out before he knew he'd said it.
"Neither do I," said Wilson very cheerily. "Really no choice though." Then, as an afterthought, he glanced at Macomber and saw suddenly how he was trembling and the pitiful look on his face.
"You don't have to go in, of course," he said. "That's what I'm hired for, you know. That's why I'm so expensive."
"You mean you'd go in by yourself? Why not leave him there?"
Robert Wilson, whose entire occupation had been with the lion and the problem he presented, as who had not been thinking about Macomber except to note that he was rather windy, suddenly felt as though he had opened the wrong door in a hotel and seen something shameful.
"What do you mean?"
"Why not just leave him?"
"You mean pretend to ourselves he hasn't been hit?"
"No. Just drop it."
"It isn't done."
"Why not?"
"For one thing, he's certain to be suffering. For another, some one else might run onto him."
"I see."
"But you don't have to have anything to do with it."
"I'd like to," Macomber said. "I'm just scared, you know."
"I'll go ahead when we go in," Wilson said, "with Kongoni tracking. You keep behind me and a little to one side. Chances are we'll hear him growl. If we see him we'll both shoot. Don't worry about anything. I'll keep you backed up. As a matter of fact, you know, perhaps you'd better not go. It might be much better. Why don't you go over and join the Memsahib while I just get it over with?"
"No, I want to go."
"All right," said Wilson. "But don't go in if you don't want to. This is my shauri now, you know."
"I want to go," said Macomber.
They sat under a tree and smoked.
"Want to go back and speak to the Memsahib while we're waiting?" Wilson asked.
"No."
"I'll just step back and tell her to be patient."
"Good," said Macomber. He sat there, sweating under his arms, his mouth dry, his stomach hollow feeling, wanting to find courage to tell Wilson to go on and finish off the lion without him. He could not know that Wilson was furious because he had not noticed the state he was in earlier and sent him back to his wife. While he sat there Wilson came up. "I have your big gun," he said. "Take it. We've given him time, I think. Come on."
Macomber took the big gun and Wilson said:
"Keep behind me and about five yards to the right and do exactly as I tell you." Then he spoke in Swahili to the two gun-bearers who looked the picture of gloom.
"Let's go," he said.
"Could I have a drink of water?" Macomber asked. Wilson spoke to the older gun-bearer, who wore a canteen on his belt, and the man unbuckled it, unscrewed the top and handed it to Macomber, who took it noticing how heavy it seemed and how hairy and shoddy the felt covering was in his hand. He raised it to drink and looked ahead at the high grass with the flat-topped trees behind it. A breeze was blowing toward them and the grass rippled gently in the wind. He looked at the gun-bearer and he could see the gun-bearer was suffering too with fear.
Thirty-five yards into the grass the big lion lay flattened out along the ground. His ears were back and his only movement was a slight twitching up and down of his long, black-tufted tail. he had turned at bay as soon as he had reached this cover and he was sick with the wound through his full belly, and weakening with the wound through his lungs that brought a thin foamy red to his mouth each time he breathed. His flanks were wet and hot and flies were on the little openings the solid bullets had made in his tawny hide, and his big yellow eyes, narrowed with hate, looked straight ahead, only blinking when the pain came as he breathed, and his claws dug in the soft baked earth. All of him, pain, sickness, hatred and all of his remaining strength, was tightening into an absolute concentration for a rush. He could hear the men talking and he waited, gathering all of himself into this preparation for a charge as soon as the men would come into the grass. As he heard their voices his tail stiffened to twitch up and down, and, as they came into the edge of the grass, he made a coughing grunt and charged.
Kongoni, the old gun-bearer, in the lead watching the blood spoor, Wilson watching the grass for any movement, his big gun ready, the second gun-bearer looking ahead and listening, Macomber close to Wilson, his rifle cocked, they had just moved into the grass when Macomber heard the blood-choked coughing grunt, and saw the swishing rush in the grass. The next thing he knew he was running; running wildly, in panic in the open, running toward the stream.
He heard the ca-ra-wong! of Wilson's big rifle, and again in a second crashing carawong! and turning saw the lion, horrible-looking now, with half his head seeming to be gone, crawling toward Wilson in the edge of the tall grass while the red-faced man worked the bolt on the short ugly rifle and aimed carefully as another blasting carawong! came from the muzzle, and the crawling, heavy, yellow bulk of the lion stiffened and the huge, mutilated head slid forward and Macomber, standing by himself in the clearing where he had run, holding a loaded rifle, while two black men and a white man looked back at him in contempt, knew the lion was dead. He came toward Wilson, his tallness all seeming a naked reproach, and Wilson looked at him and said:
"Want to take pictures?"
"No," he said.
That was all any one had said until they reached the motor car. Then Wilson had said:
"Hell of a fine lion. Boys will skin him out. We might as well stay here in the shade."
"Macomber's wife had not looked at him nor he at her and he had sat by her in the back seat with Wilson sitting in the front seat. Once he had reached over and taken his wife's hand without looking at her and she had removed her hand from his. Looking across the stream to where the gun-bearers were skinning out the lion he could see that she had been able to see the whole thing. While they say there his wife had reached forward and put her hand on Wilson's shoulder. He turned and she had leaned forward over the low seat and kissed him on the mouth.
"There he is," he heard the whisper. "Ahead and to the right. Get out and take him. He's a marvellous lion."
Macomber saw the lion now. He was standing almost broadside, his great head up and turned toward them. The early morning breeze that blew toward them was just stirring his dark mane, and the lion looked huge, silhouetted on the rise of bank in the gray morning light, his shoulders heavy, his barrel of a body bulking smoothly.
"How far is he?" asked Macomber, raising his rifle.
"About seventy-five. Get out and take him."
"Why not shoot from where I am?"
"You don't shoot them from cars," he heard Wilson saying in his ear. "Get out. He's not going to stay there all day."
Macomber stepped out of the curved opening at the side of the front seat, onto the step and down onto the ground. The lion still stood looking majestically and coolly toward this object that his eyes only showed in silhouette, bulking like some super-rhino. There was no man smell carried toward him and he watched the object, moving his great head a little from side to side. Then watching the object, not afraid, but hesitating before going down the bank to drink with such a thing opposite him, he saw a man figure detach itself from it and he turned his heavy head and swung away toward the cover of the trees as he heard a cracking crash and felt the slam of a .30-06 220-grain solid bullet that bit his flank and ripped in sudden hot scalding nausea through his stomach. He trotted, heavy, big-footed, swinging wounded full-bellied, through the trees toward the tall grass and cover, and the crash came again to go past him ripping the air apart. Then it crashed again and he felt the blow as it hit his lower ribs and ripped on through, blood sudden hot and frothy in his mouth, and he galloped toward the high grass where he could crouch and not be seen and make them bring the crashing thing close enough so he could make a rush and get the man that held it.
Macomber had no thought how the lion felt as he got out of the car. He only new his hands were shaking and as he walked away from the car it was almost impossible for him to make his legs move. They were stiff in the thighs, but he could feel the muscles fluttering. He raised the rifle, sighted on the junction of the lion's head and shoulders and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened though he pulled until he thought his finger would break. Then he knew he had the safety on and as he lowered the rifle to move the safety over he moved another frozen pace forward, and the lion seeing his silhouette now clear of the silhouette of the car, turned and started off at a trot, and, as Macomber fired, he heard a whunk that meant that the bullet hit home; but the lion kept on going. Macomber shot again and every one saw the bullet throw a spout of dirt beyond the trotting lion. He shot again, remembering to lower his aim, and they all heard the bullet hit, and the lion went into a gallop and was in the tall grass before he had the bolt pushed forward.
Macomber stood there feeling sick at his stomach, his hands that held the Springfield still cocked, shaking, and his wife and Robert Wilson were standing by him. Beside him too were the two gun-bearers chattering in Wakamba.
"I hit him," Macomber said. "I hit him twice."
"You gut-shot him and you hit him somewhere forward," Wilson said without enthusiasm. The gun-bearers looked very grave. They were silent now.
"You may have killed him," Wilson went on. "We'll have to wait a while before we go in to find out."
"What do you mean?"
"Let him get sick before we follow him up."
"Oh," said Macomber.
"He's a hell of a fine lion," Wilson said cheerfully. "He's gotten into a bad place though."
"Why is it bad?"
"Can't see him until you're on him."
"Oh," said Macomber.
"Come on," said Wilson. "The Memsahib can stay here in the car. We'll go to have a look at the blood spoor."
"Stay here, Margot," Macomber said to his wife. His mouth was very dry and it was hard for him to talk.
"Why?" she asked.
"Wilson says to."
"We're going to have a look," Wilson said. "You stay here. You can see even better from here."
"All right."
Wilson spoke in Swahili to the driver. He nodded and said, "Yes, Bwana."
Then they went down the steep bank and across the stream, climbing over and around the boulders and up the other bank, pulling up by some projecting roots, and along it until they found where the lion had been trotting when Macomber first shot. There was dark blood on the short grass that the gun-bearers pointed out with grass stems, and that ran away behind the river bank trees.
"What do we do?" asked Macomber.
"Not much choice," said Wilson. "We can't bring the car over. Bank's too steep. We'll let him stiffen up a bit and then you and I'll go in and have a look for him."
"Can't we set the grass on fire?" Macomber asked.
"Too green."
"Can't we send beaters?"
Wilson looked at him appraisingly. "Of course we can," he said. "But it's a touch murderous. You see we know the lion's wounded. You can drive an unwounded lion?he'll move on ahead of a noise?but a wounded lion's going to charge. You can't see him until you're right on him. He'll make himself perfectly flat in cover you wouldn't think would hide a hare. You can't very well send boys in there to that sort of a show. Somebody bound to get mauled."
"What about the gun-bearers?"
"Oh, they'll go with us. It's their shauri. You see, they signed on for it. They don't look too happy though, do they?"
"I don't want to go in there," said Macomber. It was out before he knew he'd said it.
"Neither do I," said Wilson very cheerily. "Really no choice though." Then, as an afterthought, he glanced at Macomber and saw suddenly how he was trembling and the pitiful look on his face.
"You don't have to go in, of course," he said. "That's what I'm hired for, you know. That's why I'm so expensive."
"You mean you'd go in by yourself? Why not leave him there?"
Robert Wilson, whose entire occupation had been with the lion and the problem he presented, as who had not been thinking about Macomber except to note that he was rather windy, suddenly felt as though he had opened the wrong door in a hotel and seen something shameful.
"What do you mean?"
"Why not just leave him?"
"You mean pretend to ourselves he hasn't been hit?"
"No. Just drop it."
"It isn't done."
"Why not?"
"For one thing, he's certain to be suffering. For another, some one else might run onto him."
"I see."
"But you don't have to have anything to do with it."
"I'd like to," Macomber said. "I'm just scared, you know."
"I'll go ahead when we go in," Wilson said, "with Kongoni tracking. You keep behind me and a little to one side. Chances are we'll hear him growl. If we see him we'll both shoot. Don't worry about anything. I'll keep you backed up. As a matter of fact, you know, perhaps you'd better not go. It might be much better. Why don't you go over and join the Memsahib while I just get it over with?"
"No, I want to go."
"All right," said Wilson. "But don't go in if you don't want to. This is my shauri now, you know."
"I want to go," said Macomber.
They sat under a tree and smoked.
"Want to go back and speak to the Memsahib while we're waiting?" Wilson asked.
"No."
"I'll just step back and tell her to be patient."
"Good," said Macomber. He sat there, sweating under his arms, his mouth dry, his stomach hollow feeling, wanting to find courage to tell Wilson to go on and finish off the lion without him. He could not know that Wilson was furious because he had not noticed the state he was in earlier and sent him back to his wife. While he sat there Wilson came up. "I have your big gun," he said. "Take it. We've given him time, I think. Come on."
Macomber took the big gun and Wilson said:
"Keep behind me and about five yards to the right and do exactly as I tell you." Then he spoke in Swahili to the two gun-bearers who looked the picture of gloom.
"Let's go," he said.
"Could I have a drink of water?" Macomber asked. Wilson spoke to the older gun-bearer, who wore a canteen on his belt, and the man unbuckled it, unscrewed the top and handed it to Macomber, who took it noticing how heavy it seemed and how hairy and shoddy the felt covering was in his hand. He raised it to drink and looked ahead at the high grass with the flat-topped trees behind it. A breeze was blowing toward them and the grass rippled gently in the wind. He looked at the gun-bearer and he could see the gun-bearer was suffering too with fear.
Thirty-five yards into the grass the big lion lay flattened out along the ground. His ears were back and his only movement was a slight twitching up and down of his long, black-tufted tail. he had turned at bay as soon as he had reached this cover and he was sick with the wound through his full belly, and weakening with the wound through his lungs that brought a thin foamy red to his mouth each time he breathed. His flanks were wet and hot and flies were on the little openings the solid bullets had made in his tawny hide, and his big yellow eyes, narrowed with hate, looked straight ahead, only blinking when the pain came as he breathed, and his claws dug in the soft baked earth. All of him, pain, sickness, hatred and all of his remaining strength, was tightening into an absolute concentration for a rush. He could hear the men talking and he waited, gathering all of himself into this preparation for a charge as soon as the men would come into the grass. As he heard their voices his tail stiffened to twitch up and down, and, as they came into the edge of the grass, he made a coughing grunt and charged.
Kongoni, the old gun-bearer, in the lead watching the blood spoor, Wilson watching the grass for any movement, his big gun ready, the second gun-bearer looking ahead and listening, Macomber close to Wilson, his rifle cocked, they had just moved into the grass when Macomber heard the blood-choked coughing grunt, and saw the swishing rush in the grass. The next thing he knew he was running; running wildly, in panic in the open, running toward the stream.
He heard the ca-ra-wong! of Wilson's big rifle, and again in a second crashing carawong! and turning saw the lion, horrible-looking now, with half his head seeming to be gone, crawling toward Wilson in the edge of the tall grass while the red-faced man worked the bolt on the short ugly rifle and aimed carefully as another blasting carawong! came from the muzzle, and the crawling, heavy, yellow bulk of the lion stiffened and the huge, mutilated head slid forward and Macomber, standing by himself in the clearing where he had run, holding a loaded rifle, while two black men and a white man looked back at him in contempt, knew the lion was dead. He came toward Wilson, his tallness all seeming a naked reproach, and Wilson looked at him and said:
"Want to take pictures?"
"No," he said.
That was all any one had said until they reached the motor car. Then Wilson had said:
"Hell of a fine lion. Boys will skin him out. We might as well stay here in the shade."
"Macomber's wife had not looked at him nor he at her and he had sat by her in the back seat with Wilson sitting in the front seat. Once he had reached over and taken his wife's hand without looking at her and she had removed her hand from his. Looking across the stream to where the gun-bearers were skinning out the lion he could see that she had been able to see the whole thing. While they say there his wife had reached forward and put her hand on Wilson's shoulder. He turned and she had leaned forward over the low seat and kissed him on the mouth.
?Ernest Hemingway, The Short Happy Life of Francis Macomber
cool stuff
you should feel it ,and smell it as well as read it.
you can simply rent a L.R. and drive kruger natl park on your own.
you stop at ck points and book overnight bush camp sites (enclosed or elevated)
wake up and hear it.smell it.
my first night in afrika a rino was eating the grass from the roof over my head over my bed. it was simply shoooooed away .
it was absolutley remarkable
cool reading
you should feel it ,and smell it as well as read it.
you can simply rent a L.R. and drive kruger natl park on your own.
you stop at ck points and book overnight bush camp sites (enclosed or elevated)
wake up and hear it.smell it.
my first night in afrika a rino was eating the grass from the roof over my head over my bed. it was simply shoooooed away .
it was absolutley remarkable
cool reading
John Rigby & Co. began making firearms in Dublin, Ireland, in 1735, and it was only in 1865 that the company first opened the London branch. After being appointed the Superintendent of the Royal Arms Factory at Enfield in 1880, John Rigby closed the Dublin workshops for good and concentrated all of his gunmaking efforts in London.
It was in the early days at St. James Street, London, that John Rigby & Co. pioneered the first Nitro Express rifles. From the outset of the smokeless-powder era around 1897, Rigby believed that the .450 caliber, considered a lightweight in blackpowder terms, was capable of stopping a charging elephant, rhino or buffalo. Using nitrocellulose-based cordite instead of blackpowder, Rigby succeeded in transforming a mediocre .450 blackpowder cartridge into a smokeless-powder powerhouse. It didn't take long to prove it could take down Africa's largest game more efficiently than even the great 4-bore, 8-bore and other ponderous blackpowder smoke-belchers. The rifle called the .450 3 1/4 N.E., which Rigby introduced in 1898, was the predecessor of a succession of large-bore double-barrel rifles chambered for smokeless-powder cartridges.
That same year, Paul Mauser put the final improvements on the military turn-bolt rifle known in Germany simply as the Gewehr 98, or Rifle of 1898. To this day, no other action ever made has enjoyed more success, been more accepted, favored, respected or copied than the Mauser 98. The application of the Mauser 1898 rifle action to sporting arms came almost simultaneously with its military adoption. British gunsmiths were quick to recognize the advantages of the action and, whenever possible, the English gun companies made their repeating sporters on Mauser 98 actions.
The turn of the 20th century saw London gun companies racing to match or better the ballistics of the big-bore single- and double-barrel Nitro Express rifles with a magazine rifle cartridge capable of taking the world's largest game while maintaining a measure of versatility. Three of those companies, Jeffery, Westley Richards and John Rigby & Co., introduced new magazine rifle cartridges within a few years of each other.
The first introduction came with Jeffery's launch of the.404 Rimless Nitro Express, better known as the .404 Jeffery, according to a 1905 Jeffery catalog. The .404's introduction is often mistakenly attributed to a later date, when the .404 was offered on Magnum Mauser actions, which took place only after Mauser's exclusive arrangement with Rigby as its British agent had ended. In its initial development, Jeffery had merely opened-up the action and magazine box of standard Mauser 98 military actions to accommodate the large .404 cartridge. Duplicating the .450/.400 Nitro Express ballistics, the .404 (actually a 0.423"-diameter bullet) fires a 400-gr. bullet at 2125 f.p.s. to generate 4,020 ft.-lbs. of muzzle energy.
The second British, big-bore, magazine rifle cartridge came in 1909, when Westley Richards introduced the .425 Westley Richards. The .425 WR (actually a 0.435"-diameter bullet), with its fat case and rebated rim certainly cut a nonstandard look. The case length is 2.64", head diameter is 0.543" and the rebated rim is turned down to just 0.467", to enable it to fit a standard Mauser bolt face. In spite of its peculiar dimensions, the .425 WR cartridge produces impressive ballistics by pushing a 410-gr. bullet at 2350 f.p.s. and generating 5,010 ft.-lbs. of muzzle energy-more or less matching the same energy delivered by double-rifle cartridges in the .450- to .470 Nitro Express-class.
Rigby's efforts to offer a magazine rifle using a cartridge equivalent to the .450 3 1/4 N.E. round came to fruition in late 1911. John Rigby & Co. developed a cartridge designed around the Magnum Mauser Model 98 square-bridge action, and in 1912 unveiled the first .416 Rigby rifle, destined to become the most famous large, medium-bore of them all. According to Jon Speed in his book, Mauser Original Oberndorf Sporting Rifles, "One of the first .416 rifles was sold in August, 1912. With the advent of the.416 Rigby Magnum Mauser, the large-bore magazine bolt rifle could be considered a viable option for those who could not afford or did not wish to use an expensive double rifle."
According to Frank Barnes' Ninth Edition of Cartridges of the World, the .416 Rigby drives a 410-gr. bullet at 2370 f.p.s. to generate 5,100 ft.-lbs. of muzzle energy, and a 400-gr. bullet at 2430 f.p.s., which generates 5,245 ft.-lbs. of energy. Barnes leaves no doubt about his respect for the cartridge, when he proclaims, "the .416 Rigby is probably the best magazine cartridge for big game ever offered. For those who prefer the bolt-action rifle, it is a great favorite for use against dangerous game in almost any situation."
The Rigby case measures 2.90" long, has a 0.589" diameter base, 0.586" rim and holds approximately 130 grs. of water. A loaded .416 Rigby cartridge measures 3.72" in overall length, compared to the .375 H&H Magnum's 3.60". The large cartridge requires a magnum-length action, and although Rigby built a few .416s on standard Mauser actions, including Harry Selby's rifle, this stretched the capabilities of an action designed around the 7.9x57 mm cartridge.
In comparison to double rifles in the .450- to .470 group, the .416 Rigby developed the same energy, but was felt to have much less pressure and recoil. Many experienced African hunters considered that Rigby's magazine rifle offered several advantages over double rifles, including better accuracy, flatter trajectory, superior penetration and four-shot capacity instead of two-all in a lighter gun.
Most of Rigby's .416s were built on Magnum Mauser Model 98 actions, while in later years, especially after World War II when the expensive Mauser actions became scarce, the custom gun trade often utilized the Model 1917 Enfield action. Even Rigby itself later employed Brno's strong magnum-size action introduced in the mid-1960s. According to its records, Rigby made exactly 169 .416 Rigby-cal. rifles between 1912 and World War II. Between 1939 and 1984, it made 180 more. From 1984, when Paul Roberts acquired Rigby's, 184 more were turned out. In 1997, an American investment group headed by Geoff Miller of Paso Robles, California acquired John Rigby & Co. Under Miller's watch, the company continues to produce dangerous game sporting rifles and shotguns from California.
Used and endorsed by many of Africa's best known hunters, the .416 Rigby's history is a rich one. Among the notable big game hunters who swore by it was Commander David Enderly Blunt, who engaged in elephant control work for the Tanganyika government back in the 1920s and '30s. In his book, Elephant, considered a classic reference on hunting elephant, Blunt wrote, "The .416 Rigby magazine I have always used has the same muzzle energy as a doublebarrel .470, but the bullet has greater penetration and the weapon is, in my opinion, the most perfectly balanced rifle in every way for elephant ... ."
Mozambique hunter John Taylor wrote in his book, Big Game and Big Game Rifles, "For all-round work amongst dangerous game, both thick-skinned and thin-skinned, there is no better magazine rifle than Rigby's .416 ... the .404 will stop him [lion] all right, but will seldom crumple him quite so completely as will the .416."
Harry Selby carried a .416 Rigby rifle for nearly 50 years during his safari career. He began with a double rifle that was damaged on safari when a hunting vehicle was accidentally driven over the barrels in 1949. Of necessity, he bought the only big-bore rifle available in Nairobi at the time--his now famous .416 Rigby rifle. Harry considered the .416 Rigby a stop-gap until he could find another suitable double, but after using it on a couple of safaris he was so impressed with its handling and performance that he never returned to a double.
Harry's Rigby rifle was immortalized in Ruark's books, Horn of the Hunter and Something of Value, and even depicted in a Bob Kuhn illustration for a 1950s Field & Stream magazine article. This type of attention no doubt bolstered the .416 Rigby's popularity and contributed to its legend and lore.
Jack O'Connor, who was also a fan of the .416 Rigby, wrote in a 1970 Shooting Column for Outdoor Life, "The 'heavy' (built on a Model 1917 Enfield action) I took to Mozambique in 1962 and to Zambia in 1969 was a .416 Rigby, a British cartridge which has long been a favorite in Africa. How long this fine cartridge will survive I cannot say, however, as it may not be factory loaded after present supplies are exhausted."
O'Connor's pessimism concerning the .416 Rigby's future was understandable at the time. The British gun trade was withering, and Kynoch was about to stop the manufacture of .416 Rigby ammunition. The last batch it made from onhand components was released in 1968. O'Connor had already taken to turning the belts off .378 or .460 Weatherby brass (both of Weatherby's belted cases are based on original .416 Rigby brass) and forming them to size. One of his favorite loads for the .416 Rigby launched a 400-gr. Barnes bullet at 2450 f.p.s. He mentioned another load that produced 2600 f.p.s., but said he felt recoil from it was too unpleasant.
Even Harry Selby put his trusted .416 Rigby away for a short period during the mid-1970s due to the lack of ammo. Turning to handloading for his ammo supply, Harry, like O'Connor, also remedied the lack of .416 brass by turning off the belts and re-sizing the cases of .460 Weatherby brass. Since B.E.L.L. began producing brass in the mid1980s, and with current factory loadings available from Federal and Kynoch, turning belts off Weatherby brass is no longer necessary.
It's ironic that today, with fewer places left to hunt big game in Africa, the availability of big-bore rifles and ammo is greater than it ever was--certainly more than it was 30 or 40 years ago. An impressive selection of rifles is currently displayed on many gun store racks, including doubles made for traditional big-bore British cartridges and bolt guns chambered in many of the time-tested calibers. With rifle production re-tooled for big-bore guns and factory cartridges once again available, Rigby's classic .416 caliber has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity that has even spawned new belted .416 factory loadings from Remington and Weatherby--Remington necking up its 8 mm Rem. Mag. case to .416, and Weatherby necking down its own .460 Wby. Mag. case to .416.
Had ammo availability not been an issue back in 1968, I might today own a safari-worn .416, instead of one whose stock gleams with the luster of a new oil-finish.
It was in the early days at St. James Street, London, that John Rigby & Co. pioneered the first Nitro Express rifles. From the outset of the smokeless-powder era around 1897, Rigby believed that the .450 caliber, considered a lightweight in blackpowder terms, was capable of stopping a charging elephant, rhino or buffalo. Using nitrocellulose-based cordite instead of blackpowder, Rigby succeeded in transforming a mediocre .450 blackpowder cartridge into a smokeless-powder powerhouse. It didn't take long to prove it could take down Africa's largest game more efficiently than even the great 4-bore, 8-bore and other ponderous blackpowder smoke-belchers. The rifle called the .450 3 1/4 N.E., which Rigby introduced in 1898, was the predecessor of a succession of large-bore double-barrel rifles chambered for smokeless-powder cartridges.
That same year, Paul Mauser put the final improvements on the military turn-bolt rifle known in Germany simply as the Gewehr 98, or Rifle of 1898. To this day, no other action ever made has enjoyed more success, been more accepted, favored, respected or copied than the Mauser 98. The application of the Mauser 1898 rifle action to sporting arms came almost simultaneously with its military adoption. British gunsmiths were quick to recognize the advantages of the action and, whenever possible, the English gun companies made their repeating sporters on Mauser 98 actions.
The turn of the 20th century saw London gun companies racing to match or better the ballistics of the big-bore single- and double-barrel Nitro Express rifles with a magazine rifle cartridge capable of taking the world's largest game while maintaining a measure of versatility. Three of those companies, Jeffery, Westley Richards and John Rigby & Co., introduced new magazine rifle cartridges within a few years of each other.
The first introduction came with Jeffery's launch of the.404 Rimless Nitro Express, better known as the .404 Jeffery, according to a 1905 Jeffery catalog. The .404's introduction is often mistakenly attributed to a later date, when the .404 was offered on Magnum Mauser actions, which took place only after Mauser's exclusive arrangement with Rigby as its British agent had ended. In its initial development, Jeffery had merely opened-up the action and magazine box of standard Mauser 98 military actions to accommodate the large .404 cartridge. Duplicating the .450/.400 Nitro Express ballistics, the .404 (actually a 0.423"-diameter bullet) fires a 400-gr. bullet at 2125 f.p.s. to generate 4,020 ft.-lbs. of muzzle energy.
The second British, big-bore, magazine rifle cartridge came in 1909, when Westley Richards introduced the .425 Westley Richards. The .425 WR (actually a 0.435"-diameter bullet), with its fat case and rebated rim certainly cut a nonstandard look. The case length is 2.64", head diameter is 0.543" and the rebated rim is turned down to just 0.467", to enable it to fit a standard Mauser bolt face. In spite of its peculiar dimensions, the .425 WR cartridge produces impressive ballistics by pushing a 410-gr. bullet at 2350 f.p.s. and generating 5,010 ft.-lbs. of muzzle energy-more or less matching the same energy delivered by double-rifle cartridges in the .450- to .470 Nitro Express-class.
Rigby's efforts to offer a magazine rifle using a cartridge equivalent to the .450 3 1/4 N.E. round came to fruition in late 1911. John Rigby & Co. developed a cartridge designed around the Magnum Mauser Model 98 square-bridge action, and in 1912 unveiled the first .416 Rigby rifle, destined to become the most famous large, medium-bore of them all. According to Jon Speed in his book, Mauser Original Oberndorf Sporting Rifles, "One of the first .416 rifles was sold in August, 1912. With the advent of the.416 Rigby Magnum Mauser, the large-bore magazine bolt rifle could be considered a viable option for those who could not afford or did not wish to use an expensive double rifle."
According to Frank Barnes' Ninth Edition of Cartridges of the World, the .416 Rigby drives a 410-gr. bullet at 2370 f.p.s. to generate 5,100 ft.-lbs. of muzzle energy, and a 400-gr. bullet at 2430 f.p.s., which generates 5,245 ft.-lbs. of energy. Barnes leaves no doubt about his respect for the cartridge, when he proclaims, "the .416 Rigby is probably the best magazine cartridge for big game ever offered. For those who prefer the bolt-action rifle, it is a great favorite for use against dangerous game in almost any situation."
The Rigby case measures 2.90" long, has a 0.589" diameter base, 0.586" rim and holds approximately 130 grs. of water. A loaded .416 Rigby cartridge measures 3.72" in overall length, compared to the .375 H&H Magnum's 3.60". The large cartridge requires a magnum-length action, and although Rigby built a few .416s on standard Mauser actions, including Harry Selby's rifle, this stretched the capabilities of an action designed around the 7.9x57 mm cartridge.
In comparison to double rifles in the .450- to .470 group, the .416 Rigby developed the same energy, but was felt to have much less pressure and recoil. Many experienced African hunters considered that Rigby's magazine rifle offered several advantages over double rifles, including better accuracy, flatter trajectory, superior penetration and four-shot capacity instead of two-all in a lighter gun.
Most of Rigby's .416s were built on Magnum Mauser Model 98 actions, while in later years, especially after World War II when the expensive Mauser actions became scarce, the custom gun trade often utilized the Model 1917 Enfield action. Even Rigby itself later employed Brno's strong magnum-size action introduced in the mid-1960s. According to its records, Rigby made exactly 169 .416 Rigby-cal. rifles between 1912 and World War II. Between 1939 and 1984, it made 180 more. From 1984, when Paul Roberts acquired Rigby's, 184 more were turned out. In 1997, an American investment group headed by Geoff Miller of Paso Robles, California acquired John Rigby & Co. Under Miller's watch, the company continues to produce dangerous game sporting rifles and shotguns from California.
Used and endorsed by many of Africa's best known hunters, the .416 Rigby's history is a rich one. Among the notable big game hunters who swore by it was Commander David Enderly Blunt, who engaged in elephant control work for the Tanganyika government back in the 1920s and '30s. In his book, Elephant, considered a classic reference on hunting elephant, Blunt wrote, "The .416 Rigby magazine I have always used has the same muzzle energy as a doublebarrel .470, but the bullet has greater penetration and the weapon is, in my opinion, the most perfectly balanced rifle in every way for elephant ... ."
Mozambique hunter John Taylor wrote in his book, Big Game and Big Game Rifles, "For all-round work amongst dangerous game, both thick-skinned and thin-skinned, there is no better magazine rifle than Rigby's .416 ... the .404 will stop him [lion] all right, but will seldom crumple him quite so completely as will the .416."
Harry Selby carried a .416 Rigby rifle for nearly 50 years during his safari career. He began with a double rifle that was damaged on safari when a hunting vehicle was accidentally driven over the barrels in 1949. Of necessity, he bought the only big-bore rifle available in Nairobi at the time--his now famous .416 Rigby rifle. Harry considered the .416 Rigby a stop-gap until he could find another suitable double, but after using it on a couple of safaris he was so impressed with its handling and performance that he never returned to a double.
Harry's Rigby rifle was immortalized in Ruark's books, Horn of the Hunter and Something of Value, and even depicted in a Bob Kuhn illustration for a 1950s Field & Stream magazine article. This type of attention no doubt bolstered the .416 Rigby's popularity and contributed to its legend and lore.
Jack O'Connor, who was also a fan of the .416 Rigby, wrote in a 1970 Shooting Column for Outdoor Life, "The 'heavy' (built on a Model 1917 Enfield action) I took to Mozambique in 1962 and to Zambia in 1969 was a .416 Rigby, a British cartridge which has long been a favorite in Africa. How long this fine cartridge will survive I cannot say, however, as it may not be factory loaded after present supplies are exhausted."
O'Connor's pessimism concerning the .416 Rigby's future was understandable at the time. The British gun trade was withering, and Kynoch was about to stop the manufacture of .416 Rigby ammunition. The last batch it made from onhand components was released in 1968. O'Connor had already taken to turning the belts off .378 or .460 Weatherby brass (both of Weatherby's belted cases are based on original .416 Rigby brass) and forming them to size. One of his favorite loads for the .416 Rigby launched a 400-gr. Barnes bullet at 2450 f.p.s. He mentioned another load that produced 2600 f.p.s., but said he felt recoil from it was too unpleasant.
Even Harry Selby put his trusted .416 Rigby away for a short period during the mid-1970s due to the lack of ammo. Turning to handloading for his ammo supply, Harry, like O'Connor, also remedied the lack of .416 brass by turning off the belts and re-sizing the cases of .460 Weatherby brass. Since B.E.L.L. began producing brass in the mid1980s, and with current factory loadings available from Federal and Kynoch, turning belts off Weatherby brass is no longer necessary.
It's ironic that today, with fewer places left to hunt big game in Africa, the availability of big-bore rifles and ammo is greater than it ever was--certainly more than it was 30 or 40 years ago. An impressive selection of rifles is currently displayed on many gun store racks, including doubles made for traditional big-bore British cartridges and bolt guns chambered in many of the time-tested calibers. With rifle production re-tooled for big-bore guns and factory cartridges once again available, Rigby's classic .416 caliber has enjoyed a resurgence in popularity that has even spawned new belted .416 factory loadings from Remington and Weatherby--Remington necking up its 8 mm Rem. Mag. case to .416, and Weatherby necking down its own .460 Wby. Mag. case to .416.
Had ammo availability not been an issue back in 1968, I might today own a safari-worn .416, instead of one whose stock gleams with the luster of a new oil-finish.
--Joe Coogan, The .416 Rigby
S
Shawn M
Guest
John, you are passionate about fine firearms and glory in tales of others hunting Africa.
In what year will you first hunt the dark continent?
In what year will you first hunt the dark continent?
K
Kyle
Guest
S
Shawn M
Guest
Hey Kyle,
Yeah, I got them. Sorry I didn't reply, I was in Spokane since Thursday, just got back Tuesday morning.
The bumper looks outstanding. Cleaner than the welded-plate design and you were right it is TUCKED into the grill.
I can't wait to get it.
Yeah, I got them. Sorry I didn't reply, I was in Spokane since Thursday, just got back Tuesday morning.
The bumper looks outstanding. Cleaner than the welded-plate design and you were right it is TUCKED into the grill.
I can't wait to get it.
S
Shawn M
Guest
John,
It was a dig but not with malicious intent. Rather to encourage your serious consideration of how much hunting Africa means to you.
Your web site and posting style tell me you are a perfectionist and set a high standard for yourself and others. Even your vitriol is somewhat inspired (see niggardly).
If you wait until the conditions are ?perfect? you?ll be a much older man before you get on that airplane. Just name a year for yourself and you?re half there.
"Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives." Richard Bach
Shawn
It was a dig but not with malicious intent. Rather to encourage your serious consideration of how much hunting Africa means to you.
Your web site and posting style tell me you are a perfectionist and set a high standard for yourself and others. Even your vitriol is somewhat inspired (see niggardly).
If you wait until the conditions are ?perfect? you?ll be a much older man before you get on that airplane. Just name a year for yourself and you?re half there.
"Some choices we live not only once but a thousand times over, remembering them for the rest of our lives." Richard Bach
Shawn
Believe me, there has been much "serious consideration" of an african hunt since my youth. One day it might happen but there's no way I can do it now on my meager income. There was a time when I could afford an African hunt but those days are gone.
And I'm not even waiting until I can afford the "ultimate" African hunt either. It's not as if my thinking were:
"Holland & Holland .500/465 Nitro Express Hammerless Sidelock Ejector - $150,000;
John Rigby & Co. .416 Rigby Magnum Mauser Repeater - $30,000;
Holland & Holland Best-Grade .375 Rimless Nitro Express Mauser Repeater - $40,000;
Westley Richards .318 Accelerated Express Mauser Repeater - $30,000;
John Rigby & Co. .275 Rigby Mauser Repeater - $30,000;
Holland & Holland 20-Bore Hammerless Sidelock Extractor Gun - $50,000 (Africa is famous for its dangerous game but has some of the best wingshooting in the world);
Holland & Holland 12-Bore Paradox Hammerless Sidelock Ejector - $150,000 (just in case I don't feel like swapping guns when I'm hunting guinea fowl and and I see a black-maned lion I just happen to feel like taking that day);
best oak-and-leather cases for the above weapons - $50,000;
ammunition for the above weapons - $5,000;
Snap-on miniature KRL box and and a complete 1/4" drive set for the above weapons - $10,000
60-Day foot safari with Robin Hurt in the Moyowosi or with Ian Macfarlane in the Okavango Delta - $50,000;
Big Five license - $50,000;
kudu, gemsbok, eland, sable, etc. trophies plastering the walls of the shop above the shop tool boxes - $20,000;
zebra rug on the floor in front of my leather chair and my complete African library - $5,000;
walnut-lined elephant foot trash cans throughout the shop - $3,000;
ivory back scratcher - $1,000;
personal servant to peel my grapes and trim the crust from my sandwich bread while on safari - $1,000;
James Lock & Co. leopard homburg, Anderson & Sheppard sable coat, and John Lobb crocodile loafers for Ho - $40,000
actually being there - Priceless"
No, it's not like that at all. I try to stay realistic. But that realism works both ways. Being realistic, I know that the costs involved on an African hunt are well beyond my current budget.
And I'm not even waiting until I can afford the "ultimate" African hunt either. It's not as if my thinking were:
"Holland & Holland .500/465 Nitro Express Hammerless Sidelock Ejector - $150,000;
John Rigby & Co. .416 Rigby Magnum Mauser Repeater - $30,000;
Holland & Holland Best-Grade .375 Rimless Nitro Express Mauser Repeater - $40,000;
Westley Richards .318 Accelerated Express Mauser Repeater - $30,000;
John Rigby & Co. .275 Rigby Mauser Repeater - $30,000;
Holland & Holland 20-Bore Hammerless Sidelock Extractor Gun - $50,000 (Africa is famous for its dangerous game but has some of the best wingshooting in the world);
Holland & Holland 12-Bore Paradox Hammerless Sidelock Ejector - $150,000 (just in case I don't feel like swapping guns when I'm hunting guinea fowl and and I see a black-maned lion I just happen to feel like taking that day);
best oak-and-leather cases for the above weapons - $50,000;
ammunition for the above weapons - $5,000;
Snap-on miniature KRL box and and a complete 1/4" drive set for the above weapons - $10,000
60-Day foot safari with Robin Hurt in the Moyowosi or with Ian Macfarlane in the Okavango Delta - $50,000;
Big Five license - $50,000;
kudu, gemsbok, eland, sable, etc. trophies plastering the walls of the shop above the shop tool boxes - $20,000;
zebra rug on the floor in front of my leather chair and my complete African library - $5,000;
walnut-lined elephant foot trash cans throughout the shop - $3,000;
ivory back scratcher - $1,000;
personal servant to peel my grapes and trim the crust from my sandwich bread while on safari - $1,000;
James Lock & Co. leopard homburg, Anderson & Sheppard sable coat, and John Lobb crocodile loafers for Ho - $40,000
actually being there - Priceless"
No, it's not like that at all. I try to stay realistic. But that realism works both ways. Being realistic, I know that the costs involved on an African hunt are well beyond my current budget.
I think you need to amend your list John. Read 5th paragraph down:
http://www.jpate.freeserve.co.uk/JeffCooper/
http://www.jpate.freeserve.co.uk/JeffCooper/
S
Shawn M
Guest
Nice fantasy John, but unless your net worth has eight digits to the left of the decimal point you will die with it unfulfilled.
It's the same as the guy who can't take a week-long LR trip without everything first:
Solid truck w/ no leaks
All expedition supplies
Engel
Water purifier
On-board welder
Spares of everything
Winch, bumpers, sliders, protection, roof rack, lights, gps... etc etc.
That guy will always have a ready answer for why he can't go to Colorado, or Moab, or Canada, or South America. He doesn't have everything yet.
You could do a non-big-five hunt with the rifles you already own for less than the cost of a nice off-lease minivan. You would have hunted Africa and could make plans to do it again (even better next time?).
I have heard my father pine for hunting big five in Africa all of my adult life. He keeps it safely out of reach by setting huge precursors on even planning the trip.
Pick a year, even if it is 2009+. At least you'll have set a goal and goals are powerful. You didn't finish law school without goal setting, and Africa would be a hell of a lot more memorable.
Shawn
It's the same as the guy who can't take a week-long LR trip without everything first:
Solid truck w/ no leaks
All expedition supplies
Engel
Water purifier
On-board welder
Spares of everything
Winch, bumpers, sliders, protection, roof rack, lights, gps... etc etc.
That guy will always have a ready answer for why he can't go to Colorado, or Moab, or Canada, or South America. He doesn't have everything yet.
You could do a non-big-five hunt with the rifles you already own for less than the cost of a nice off-lease minivan. You would have hunted Africa and could make plans to do it again (even better next time?).
I have heard my father pine for hunting big five in Africa all of my adult life. He keeps it safely out of reach by setting huge precursors on even planning the trip.
Pick a year, even if it is 2009+. At least you'll have set a goal and goals are powerful. You didn't finish law school without goal setting, and Africa would be a hell of a lot more memorable.
Shawn
Oh man, The Guru is slipping. As much as I admire Jeff Cooper (I consider him the highest authority on many gun matters), he is well past his prime as a writer and that bit about the .700 just confirms this. Sad but true.
His take on the .700's lack of purpose is true enough, there's no doubt about that. But his background info on the .700 is just so wrong that I can't believe The Guru wrote what he did.
"This cartridge, newly presented by Holland & Holland of England, is said to be the brain child of the factory staff in response to the opinion of a customer who once said that the reason he packed a 600 when hunting elephant was simply that 'They don't make a 700.' Well now they do."
This is not historically correct. The .700 Nitro Express cartridge was not conceived by the chaps at Holland & Holland. Rather, it was conceived by William Feldstein of Los Angeles.
Back in the 1970's, a Holland's customer had H&H build a best-quality double .600 for him. H&H obliged and built the rifle, but thought the request for a .600 was a bit odd because the need for such superheavies like the .577 and .600 had long disappeared decades before with the disappearance of the professional ivory trade. There was also little to no ammunition for the .600, as Kynoch had long since stopped loading the .600.
"The super heavies are very specialized instruments. They are not just 'elephant guns'; they are guns for tackling elephants under the most desperate circumstances. They are useful only to the tradesman, not the sportsman. The sportsman who hunts elephant does not need such devastating power, since he hunts in the company of a competent professional who is also powerfully armed, he chooses his one bull with care, and he avoids any single-handed confrontations with an enraged herd. On the other hand the tradesman?the money hunter?hunted by himself, and his objective was all the ivory he could gather in one session. He went right in among them and he worked like a tight-end amid 12,000 lb. linebackers. His shot had to work?every time?or he was squashed like a bug. Often shooting from the hip at ranges of a few steps, he needed all the power he could hold. Hence the super heavies."
Jeff Cooper wrote that in the 1980's and it's just as true today as it was in the 1970's or 1980's. H&H realized this as well in the 1970's, and truly believed that this .600 double it was making for this customer would be the last .600 ever built by the London houses.
H&H's staff did some research and found that .600 rifles were very few in number. All of the London firms together since the introduction of the .600 around 1900 (nobody really knows for sure when the .600 was introduced) had produced less than 90 .600's. Many people today believe the .600 was common in the era of big ivory because of its widespread reputation, but it was not. Only 80-something rifles in .600 were ever produced. In this way, the .600 is not unlike the .416 Rigby, whose reputation far outclassed its actual use in Africa. Imagine a cartridge designed for crumpling elephant during the peak of the professional ivory trade and only 80-plus rifles in this caliber were ever made. What use would anybody have for such a weapon in the 1970's?
To add to the .600's perceived obsolescence, by the 1970's when this H&H .600 was being produced, Kynoch had long since stopped loading .600 Nitro ammunition. Original Kynoch .600 rounds were going for $50 apiece, and this was in the 1970's. That was a hell of a lot of money in the 1970's.
H&H clearly and convincingly believed that the .600 was obsolete and that it was making the last .600 that was ever going to be made again. H&H decided used this as a marketing ploy. Upon finishing this double, H&H announced it to the gun trade and boldly proclaimed this weapon to "The Last .600 Nitro Express Weapon" to be produced. H&H also spent considerable care with this weapon and this weapon was widely believed to be the finest Royal-Grade Hammerless Sidelock Ejector that H&H had ever produced.
Then came William Feldstein, a .600 lover, a few decades later. Feldstein approached H&H and wanted the firm to build him a .600 double. H&H had to refuse on the ground that it was bound never to build another .600 because it had presented that "last" .600 to its other customer with the proclamation that this weapon was the last of the last. Building another .600 now would ruin H&H's sterling reputation and would also affect the value of other .600's on the market.
Feldstein then asked H&H to build him a .700 Nitro Express. Feldstein is one of those men for whom money is no issue. Feldstein said that he would have the cartridge built and H&H agreed to the idea.
Feldstein had Woodleigh build the .700" bullets, both in solid and soft construction. Brass Extrusion Laboratories built the cases. I believe PMC, which owned B.E.L.L. at the time, loaded the cartridges--10,000 in all. Feldstein is no dummy, and he carefully selected the projectile shape so that the they would not have the blunt-nosed shape of the .600 bullets. One of the reasons the .600 produces less penetration than the .577 is that the projectiles are very blunt in shape.
H&H built a prototype and when the weapon was declared to be feasible, H&H built a second .700 for Feldstein. I believe Feldstein has tagged several elephants with his .700, although I'm not sure on this. For sure, he has tagged at least one with his .700. Since then, H&H has built several other .700's for customers.
So, the idea behind the .700 is not the brainchild of H&H but rather of William Feldstein. I'm surprised The Guru doesn't know this. To a man of such intelligence as he clearly possesses, nothing is trivial and he very rarely gets things wrong.
"Ammunition is available at one dollar US per shot, so we did not shoot it much."
This is also another glaring error. The Guru is really slipping. I wish .700 Nitro rounds cost a dollar apiece. That amount is so ridiculously low that I can't help but wonder if The Guru is going senile. Even my .416 Rigby rounds cost $7 apiece. .700 Nitro rounds don't go for $1 apiece. Rather, they go for $100 apiece. Yes, $100 for one shot. Cooper should know this. The .577 and .600 were never cheap rounds, even when they were factory-loaded by Kynoch in larger quantities than the .700 ever will be. Cooper knows this. He has to. In Crumpler, Cooper wrote, "In the twenties, when this [Westley Richards .577 double] rifle was made, one of its cartridges was worth the price of a first-class dinner in a first-class restaurant. It still is today." What he wrote is true. I'm shocked he would think a .700 round would cost only one dollar.
"The custom-made single-shot piece has a falling-block action, and at 16lbs per unit it is presumably best used in pairs since a double rifle for this round would be too cumbersome to pack afield."
Again, The Guru is slipping. It's true that the first H&H prototype .700 weighed a great deal. I can't recall the exact amount, but my recollection was that it was in the high 20's. Like 27 lbs. or something like that. H&H built the first weapon this heavy because it number-crunched the recoil figures generated by the .700 cartridge and then made the prototype heavy enough that it would have the same recoil as "standard" .577 double (which usually weighs about 13-14 lbs.).
But the 27 lbs. weight is not inherent to the weapon. The weapon can be made much lighter and still be as strong. For example, American professional hunter Mark Sullivan has a .700 double made by Watson Bros., and I believe his double weighs 16 lbs., the same as John Gannaway's single-shot .700. It seems to me Sullivan's .700 is much more serious weapon and less of an oddity than Gannaway's .700. I can't say that a 16 lb. .700 double is not a practical and feasible weapon.
But make no mistake, the .700 is a huge weapon. It's very large:
"When we raise the ubiquitous query about what is it for, we do not get a convincing answer. 'To have and to hold,' is probably the best attempt, but that is true of a whole regiment of smallarm offerings at this time."
Here The Guru is definitely correct. But I'm not sure he knows just how correct he is. The entire reason for Feldstein creating the .700 was because H&H would not make him a .600. But H&H is back to building .600's again. I don't know if that "last" .600 customer sold the rifle back to H&H. Or perhaps H&H, which is now corporate owned by the Chanel Group, didn't give a shit about honoring its past commitments. Or maybe H&H realized that there is still a viable market for such weapons, even though professional ivory hunting has disappeared. Whatever the reason, H&H is definitely building .600's once again. So that would seem to make the .700 even more useless than it was before.
His take on the .700's lack of purpose is true enough, there's no doubt about that. But his background info on the .700 is just so wrong that I can't believe The Guru wrote what he did.
"This cartridge, newly presented by Holland & Holland of England, is said to be the brain child of the factory staff in response to the opinion of a customer who once said that the reason he packed a 600 when hunting elephant was simply that 'They don't make a 700.' Well now they do."
This is not historically correct. The .700 Nitro Express cartridge was not conceived by the chaps at Holland & Holland. Rather, it was conceived by William Feldstein of Los Angeles.
Back in the 1970's, a Holland's customer had H&H build a best-quality double .600 for him. H&H obliged and built the rifle, but thought the request for a .600 was a bit odd because the need for such superheavies like the .577 and .600 had long disappeared decades before with the disappearance of the professional ivory trade. There was also little to no ammunition for the .600, as Kynoch had long since stopped loading the .600.
"The super heavies are very specialized instruments. They are not just 'elephant guns'; they are guns for tackling elephants under the most desperate circumstances. They are useful only to the tradesman, not the sportsman. The sportsman who hunts elephant does not need such devastating power, since he hunts in the company of a competent professional who is also powerfully armed, he chooses his one bull with care, and he avoids any single-handed confrontations with an enraged herd. On the other hand the tradesman?the money hunter?hunted by himself, and his objective was all the ivory he could gather in one session. He went right in among them and he worked like a tight-end amid 12,000 lb. linebackers. His shot had to work?every time?or he was squashed like a bug. Often shooting from the hip at ranges of a few steps, he needed all the power he could hold. Hence the super heavies."
Jeff Cooper wrote that in the 1980's and it's just as true today as it was in the 1970's or 1980's. H&H realized this as well in the 1970's, and truly believed that this .600 double it was making for this customer would be the last .600 ever built by the London houses.
H&H's staff did some research and found that .600 rifles were very few in number. All of the London firms together since the introduction of the .600 around 1900 (nobody really knows for sure when the .600 was introduced) had produced less than 90 .600's. Many people today believe the .600 was common in the era of big ivory because of its widespread reputation, but it was not. Only 80-something rifles in .600 were ever produced. In this way, the .600 is not unlike the .416 Rigby, whose reputation far outclassed its actual use in Africa. Imagine a cartridge designed for crumpling elephant during the peak of the professional ivory trade and only 80-plus rifles in this caliber were ever made. What use would anybody have for such a weapon in the 1970's?
To add to the .600's perceived obsolescence, by the 1970's when this H&H .600 was being produced, Kynoch had long since stopped loading .600 Nitro ammunition. Original Kynoch .600 rounds were going for $50 apiece, and this was in the 1970's. That was a hell of a lot of money in the 1970's.
H&H clearly and convincingly believed that the .600 was obsolete and that it was making the last .600 that was ever going to be made again. H&H decided used this as a marketing ploy. Upon finishing this double, H&H announced it to the gun trade and boldly proclaimed this weapon to "The Last .600 Nitro Express Weapon" to be produced. H&H also spent considerable care with this weapon and this weapon was widely believed to be the finest Royal-Grade Hammerless Sidelock Ejector that H&H had ever produced.
Then came William Feldstein, a .600 lover, a few decades later. Feldstein approached H&H and wanted the firm to build him a .600 double. H&H had to refuse on the ground that it was bound never to build another .600 because it had presented that "last" .600 to its other customer with the proclamation that this weapon was the last of the last. Building another .600 now would ruin H&H's sterling reputation and would also affect the value of other .600's on the market.
Feldstein then asked H&H to build him a .700 Nitro Express. Feldstein is one of those men for whom money is no issue. Feldstein said that he would have the cartridge built and H&H agreed to the idea.
Feldstein had Woodleigh build the .700" bullets, both in solid and soft construction. Brass Extrusion Laboratories built the cases. I believe PMC, which owned B.E.L.L. at the time, loaded the cartridges--10,000 in all. Feldstein is no dummy, and he carefully selected the projectile shape so that the they would not have the blunt-nosed shape of the .600 bullets. One of the reasons the .600 produces less penetration than the .577 is that the projectiles are very blunt in shape.
H&H built a prototype and when the weapon was declared to be feasible, H&H built a second .700 for Feldstein. I believe Feldstein has tagged several elephants with his .700, although I'm not sure on this. For sure, he has tagged at least one with his .700. Since then, H&H has built several other .700's for customers.
So, the idea behind the .700 is not the brainchild of H&H but rather of William Feldstein. I'm surprised The Guru doesn't know this. To a man of such intelligence as he clearly possesses, nothing is trivial and he very rarely gets things wrong.
"Ammunition is available at one dollar US per shot, so we did not shoot it much."
This is also another glaring error. The Guru is really slipping. I wish .700 Nitro rounds cost a dollar apiece. That amount is so ridiculously low that I can't help but wonder if The Guru is going senile. Even my .416 Rigby rounds cost $7 apiece. .700 Nitro rounds don't go for $1 apiece. Rather, they go for $100 apiece. Yes, $100 for one shot. Cooper should know this. The .577 and .600 were never cheap rounds, even when they were factory-loaded by Kynoch in larger quantities than the .700 ever will be. Cooper knows this. He has to. In Crumpler, Cooper wrote, "In the twenties, when this [Westley Richards .577 double] rifle was made, one of its cartridges was worth the price of a first-class dinner in a first-class restaurant. It still is today." What he wrote is true. I'm shocked he would think a .700 round would cost only one dollar.
"The custom-made single-shot piece has a falling-block action, and at 16lbs per unit it is presumably best used in pairs since a double rifle for this round would be too cumbersome to pack afield."
Again, The Guru is slipping. It's true that the first H&H prototype .700 weighed a great deal. I can't recall the exact amount, but my recollection was that it was in the high 20's. Like 27 lbs. or something like that. H&H built the first weapon this heavy because it number-crunched the recoil figures generated by the .700 cartridge and then made the prototype heavy enough that it would have the same recoil as "standard" .577 double (which usually weighs about 13-14 lbs.).
But the 27 lbs. weight is not inherent to the weapon. The weapon can be made much lighter and still be as strong. For example, American professional hunter Mark Sullivan has a .700 double made by Watson Bros., and I believe his double weighs 16 lbs., the same as John Gannaway's single-shot .700. It seems to me Sullivan's .700 is much more serious weapon and less of an oddity than Gannaway's .700. I can't say that a 16 lb. .700 double is not a practical and feasible weapon.
But make no mistake, the .700 is a huge weapon. It's very large:
"When we raise the ubiquitous query about what is it for, we do not get a convincing answer. 'To have and to hold,' is probably the best attempt, but that is true of a whole regiment of smallarm offerings at this time."
Here The Guru is definitely correct. But I'm not sure he knows just how correct he is. The entire reason for Feldstein creating the .700 was because H&H would not make him a .600. But H&H is back to building .600's again. I don't know if that "last" .600 customer sold the rifle back to H&H. Or perhaps H&H, which is now corporate owned by the Chanel Group, didn't give a shit about honoring its past commitments. Or maybe H&H realized that there is still a viable market for such weapons, even though professional ivory hunting has disappeared. Whatever the reason, H&H is definitely building .600's once again. So that would seem to make the .700 even more useless than it was before.
Reading this thread brings back some fond memories growing up in small-town Oroville, California. One of the things I enjoyed was visiting RCBS (later Huntington's Sporting Goods) and looking at all the exotic game and interesting firearms displayed around the store. I remember seeing and talking to Fred Huntington on occasion. He had a wealth of knowledge about hunting, guns, and ammunition. He once showed me around the RCBS shop shortly before he sold it to Omark. I was about 13 or 14 and felt honored!
There still is a small museum (or was the last time I visited) with some of Fred's game displayed at the store which is next to the original RCBS store site.
Here's that article I referred to:
http://www.outdoorlife.com/outdoor/adventure/article/0,19912,193943-1,00.html
It's an interesting read.
There still is a small museum (or was the last time I visited) with some of Fred's game displayed at the store which is next to the original RCBS store site.
Here's that article I referred to:
http://www.outdoorlife.com/outdoor/adventure/article/0,19912,193943-1,00.html
It's an interesting read.
"Although some considered that Arthur Neumann was the greatest elephant hunter of his time, and James Sutherland claimed that his own bag of 447 bull elephants was the largest in history, neither man knew his rifles or his elephant as well as Karamojo Bell. Not for Bell the frantic snap shots of Neumann or Sutherland's stampeding wounded bulls. Spurning their heavy .577s, Bell shot with surgical precision. Karamojo Bell killed over 800 bull elephants with a five-shot .275 (7mm) made to order by Rigby in London with a reliable Mauser bolt action and a foresight bead of gleaming warthog ivory.
"A Scot who went to sea at thirteen, Bell as a young boy was riveted by the tales of his countryman Gordon Cumming. The dream of his youth was to hunt elephant on the African plains. At seventeen he landed in Mombasa in 1897, carrying nothing but a single shot .303 by Fraser of Edinburgh, and a pocket-full of nickel-jacketed lead solids. With this weapon the young man earned a job as the armed escort for convoys of Indian muleteers, as they moved supplies to the forward camps of the survey parties that preceded the advancing railhead of the Uganda Railway. Occasionally he would pass the bush camp that was to become Nairobi. Hunting for his convoy, Bell learned his life-long lesson: get in close and make the first bullet count. He had little choice, for the extraction mechanism of the falling-block .303 would jam in the heat, the spent cartridge packed tight in the chamber.
"On subsequent safaris, Bell learned to value two qualities of the modern, high-powered rifle: weight and accuracy. Its light weight enabled him to carry his own weapon all day, until it became an extension of his arm, and he could raise and use it with effortless steadiness. Its accuracy made even the small bullets deadly, if properly aimed. To perfect the steadiness of his aim, Bell performed endless drills with his rifle extended in one hand. Soon he learned that a small-bore rifle is reliable only with a brain shot, for the heart and lungs can absorb more punishment and take longer to bring the body down. To perfect his targeting, Bell studied the anatomy of the elephant as no hunter ever had before.
"Sawing an elephant skull in two with a nine-foot, two-handed bandsaw, Bell studied the brain and its shelter of honeycombed bone. The cellular skull structure, later used in modern aircraft frames, combines strength with light weight, permitting the elephant's neck to support the huge head and heavy tusks. Carefully Bell assessed the relative vulnerability of the different routes to this target, learning the precise angles that give sure access to the elephant's ten-pound brain, roughly the size of a loaf of bread.
"Practising in the field until his 'subconscious aimer' took over, he used the ear root and the eye to plot the location of the brain. To do the job quickly and cleanly, with less pain to the animal and more safety for the hunter, he got in close, thirty yards, and aimed always for the brain itself. The alternative was more dangerous. In thick thorn bush, when a man can barely move, a six-ton elephant cuts through like an icebreaker, covering a hundred yards in ten or eleven seconds.
"Proud of the finality and silence of his technique, Bell knew 'nothing more satisfying than the complete flop of a running elephant shot in the brain'. In this way, Karamojo Bell, using various rifles, killed over a thousand elephant in twenty years of hunting, covering over 60,000 miles on foot from Abyssinia to Liberia?.
"To hunt as he did, averaging two shots an elephant, often killing with one perfect shot, Karamojo Bell had to study his prey. He never ceased to do so. He noted how elephant swing their heads from side to side as they flee, enabling them to watch their pursuers without pausing. He studied their diets, and the animals that attend them, whether the black-faced vervet monkeys that pluck the unchewed tamarind seeds from their fresh dung or the hateful one-inch stinging flies that drive them into the mud. When parched, he drank the pure water that flowed from their stomachs after a careful speak thrust. This water came from the same ten-gallon tank that the elephant draw on when they bring the water up into their throats and then shower themselves with their trunks. He learned that elephant enjoy green bamboo shoots as people do asparagus, relishing them for their deep moist roots. He watched them eat salt and earth, and then discovered by surgery that elephant use these to scour out the large maggot-like worms that infest their intestines.
"Bell came to admire the stately old bulls, sometimes 120 years old or more, recognizing these gentlemen not just by their heavy ivory, but by their hollow temples, sharp spinal ridges and folded corrugated skin. Studying the scarce remains of elephant in country where at times the horizon was jagged with twenty-five lumbering animals, he learned why there are no elephant cemeteries. The ivory is taken by natives, and the bones soon disappear, 'weathered away, gnawed down, dragged off, burned, disintegrated'. He was sceptical, too, of the legend that leeches so inflame the insides of an elephant's trunk that the animals beat their trunks against trees until they swell and cause suffocation. Most of all, Bell learned that there are no rules about elephant hunting, that the great animals are truly unpredictable.
?
"In the mornings, the 'donkey men' were up at 2:30, loading their beasts with tusks, each sewn into an animal hide, dried to shrink around it. At 5:00 a.m., tea and biscuits, fresh shorts and a hunting shirt were brought to Bell's spacious sleeping tent. Before sun-up he was off, hunting in the unspoiled quiet ahead of the safari, perhaps with one man carrying a calabash of sour milk. At about 5:30 the safari followed. Each day Bell shot to feed 150 people. Elephant walk at six miles an hour, and Bell reckoned that his average elephant cost him seventy-three miles of walking and running. The days were so hard that he walked through twenty-four pairs of shoes a year and his feet were always raw with blisters. Their soles worn down despite giraffe-hide sandals, none of his men could last more than four months on the trail, and some worked in one-month shifts. Bell himself came to favour cr?pe rubber soles with soft leather uppers, a form of desert boot that appeared in his later years.
"Back in camp, his two personal tents afforded him a bathroom with a canvas bath, a veranda, Jaeger rugs and a large camp-bed with linen sheets and mosquito nets. Close as he got to elephants and to his Africans, Bell found that after a chase he preferred his own favoured camp drink, a split of champagne, to the Karamojan favourite, a quart of golden, liquid eland fat. Sometimes Bell regretted that he could never be as festive as his merry companions. But, rolling a cigarette from his Dutch shag tobacco, he always found good company in The Pickwick Papers, 'the only contact with civilization that I ever found pleasurable'.
"The return of a Karamojo Bell safari, among the last of their kind, was a spectacle even in the ivory centres of east Africa. Sparkling in brightly beaded robes, a hundred men paraded to the ivory market, proudly bearing the teeth of 180 elephant. Escorted by Bell's six armed askaris, the donkey men kept 180 donkeys in order. Each of the great 100 lb tusks, so hot that it blistered the shoulders, its empty nerve hole filled with the bearer's belongings, was carried by one of the thirty-one picked Karamojan porters. Blood-red ostrich feathers and the manes of giraffes, lions and baboons bedecked each man's head. Averaging one elephant per day over the six months of hunting on a fourteen-month safari to Uganda and the Lado Enclave, Bell returned with a hoard of treasure. The magnificent Karamojo tusks averaged 53 lb each, the Lado tusks 23 lb. The total cost of one safari was ?3,000 (about ?90,600 today), of which the wages were ?600. The ivory sold for ?9,000. In today's money, the safari realized a profit of ?181,000.
"Thinking back, Karamojo Bell considered solitary rambles with a gun to be the joyful essence of hunting. But the heart-stop always came when he found fresh tracks of the great bulls of northern Uganda. 'It is as if all one's senses had been half asleep and had just awakened fully,' he wrote. 'Speed, hearing and sight become intense. Never could I prevent my pulse beating faster. It is because nothing is ever the same. Anything can happen at such close quarters. The feel of the rifle in one's hand sends a thrill through the body.'
"Long after his first safari, no longer a tyro, now trained by the gunsmith Fraser himself to follow a bullet in flight with the naked eye and never to flinch, Bell experienced a highpoint of his life. While he was on an extended safari, his new custom rifle arrived from Edinburgh, finding him at last after many adventures. It was a slim Mannlicher-Schoenauer .256, reworked in Scotland. With the barrel shortened and the action machined down, the carbine weighed a clean five pounds. The bluing, stocking and sighting were executed by a master, Daniel Fraser himself.
"Eager as a schoolboy, Bell filled the magazine with solid Steyr cartridges, Austria's best, and his belt with a mix of solid and soft-nosed. Following his habit, he checked each cartridge case for flaws and kept the breach empty to suit the need. Leaving camp with his gunbearers, stealing through a wild orchard, he discovered a party of elephant browsing on the heavy fruit. As he paused, planning his shots, his eyes instinctively searching out the paths to their brains, Bell caught the scent of Africa. Wild flowers mingled with 'elephant dung, urine, and the buzz of countless insects, making a quivering jelly of the air, quite intoxicating to the hunter'. That day the new Fraser killed twelve fine bulls with one brain shot each. But a new century was beginning. Never again would a hunter in Africa bring down such a bag."
?Bartle Bull, Safari: A Chronicle of Adventure
"The combat shooter and the hunter have slightly different problems in aiming. In a fight you shoot for the center of mass or the center of what you can see of your adversary. He will rarely be standing erect and stationary, as he does in the combat simulators, so you will normally place your sights dead center and squeeze carefully. If he happens to be a long way off, stationary and standing erect, you may have the chance to do a bit of range compensation. If you have set a 200-meter zero and your target is 300 meters out, your best method is to place your front sight exactly on his shoulder line. If he is way out you may place your elevation index on the top of his head. These holds are not geometrically correct, but they will do as guides.
"The major difference between the hunter's problem and that of the soldier is the fact that the hunter's target is normally a quadraped, and a quadraped offers a horizontal silhouette. The hunter must be more rigorously disciplined in his marksmanship than the soldier, because he owes his target a quick, painless death, whereas the soldier really does not care what happens to his adversary. (There is a theory that it is better to wound an enemy soldier than to kill him, because that will place a logistical burden upon the other side. It only does this, however, in static warfare, and I have never held it to be an important consideration.)
"A major marksmanship problem for the hunter is knowing where to place his shot on an animal that may be of considerable size. On an elephant, for example, there is no problem in hitting the beast, but there is a very considerable problem in hitting him in the brain, which is about the size of a football and located somewhere within that massive Styrofoam skull. It has been said that hitting an elephant in the brain is rather like hitting a Volkswagen in the carburetor. You know it is there, but under varying conditions of range and movement the question of exactly where may be daunting. The renowned Karamojo Bell killed his hundreds of elephants with small-caliber, penetrative rifles, but he made a study of elephant anatomy and knew far better than most exactly what he was shooting at.
"A common weakness in the novice hunter is his tendency to shoot at the whole beast without concentrating on the vital zone, which lies well forward in the torso. Four-footed grass-eaters are very frequently taken broadside, because they have a fatal tendency to stop and look back when they think they have outdistanced their pursuers. With an inexperienced field shot, this often results in placing the shot way too far back, with attendant unpleasant results. As a rule, one should take a broadside beast on the vertical line of his foreleg about one-third of the way up from the bottom of his torso, but a game animal is not a two-dimensional paper representation and must always be considered as a three-dimensional solid object whose vitals lie somewhere forward in his body cavity.
"A heart shot is always fatal on a game animal (and usually so on a man), but it is not usually a stopper. Consciousness and mobility continue until the blood supply fails to reach the brain, and this may take some time. On a dangerous animal, this may be time enough for the beast to reach the shooter and return his attentions. If the rifle is of proper power for the task at hand, the shot should be placed in such a way as to impact the forward bone structure as strongly as possible. A shot that breaks into the shoulder joints, preferably on both sides, normally produces a quick stop.
"The neck shot is advocated by many experienced hunters, and, of course, if the cervical portion of the spinal cord is severed, the target is stopped in its tracks. There is a lot of room in the neck, however, that is not inclusive of the spinal cord. When viewed from the side, the spine ordinarily enters the neck just behind the skull and then proceeds to drop quite low to the point where it enters the body. This means that a shot in the exact center of the trapezoid formed by the neck as viewed from the side will frequently break the neck. Not always, however. I once shot a handsome kudu bull squarely through the neck, because that was the only portion of him I could see that was not obscured by shrubbery. It is not easy to put a shot clear through the neck of a big beast like that, from one side to the other, without hitting anything vital, but I brought it off. My shot did not hit the spinal cord, nor the spine, nor the windpipe, nor any important blood vessels, and we chased that beast for almost eight hours.
"In most four-footed grass-eaters there exists a 'spinal flange' composed of vertical projections of the vertebrae above the spinal channel. At long ranges there is a tendency for the hunter to try to 'help' his rifle by shooting a little high. If, in so doing, his bullet strikes one of the projections of that spinal flange, the beast will go down in its tracks, usually accompanied by a loud crack as the bullet hits bone. That crack and the instant drop are danger signs. In many cases, the target has not been injured in any serious sense and will be up and gone the moment it gathers its wits about it.
"A mortally hit beast is often capable of running from 50 to 200 meters before it drops. The shooter should not let this distress him. If he is a good shot and he knows where his reticle was at the moment the striker went forward, he knows he has achieved his objective. If the range to the target was 100 meters or more, the Kugelschlag will come back loud and clear to corroborate his estimate.
"When the target angle on a four-footed beast diverges radically from 90 degrees, the shooter should try for the far shoulder if the animal is running away or the near shoulder if the animal is coming toward him. In both cases, if the cartridge is powerful enough, the broken shoulder bones will be accompanied by decisive damage to the 'broiler room.'
"From dead ahead, the shot is difficult, because the only satisfactory target is the spine beneath the chin and above the brisket. This spine shot may not be as broad as one would like, and if the beast is standing at a light angle it may be difficult to locate. I have seen total success and total failure on buffalo with shots taken from dead ahead, with major-caliber rifles. I once got an icer, however, on a wildebeest, when the bullet missed the spine in the neck region but continued on into the torso and paralleled the spinal column about an inch to one side, for some 18 inches. I was shooting a 30-06/180, and there was plenty of power available for a beast the size of a gnu?say, 450 pounds on the hoof.
"At comfortable ranges the shooter should attempt to put his bullet one-third of the way up from the bottom line on target. As the range increases, he may wish to move his aiming point up until it is centerlined, top to bottom. If he attempts to hold over, however, he must remember that while he may be accurately compensating for bullet drop, he is also entering the area of bullet dispersion. The field shooter cannot shoot to an exact point, but rather to a shot pattern that increases in size as the range increases?and not proportionately. The 'morning glory effect'?which, for practical purposes, states that the shooter of a high-velocity rifle (3,000 fps and higher) has little advantage over the shooter of a 2,500 fps rifle because at the distance when overhold becomes significant, range-probable error (which is dependent upon such things as wind, ammunition quality, and the shooter's stability) will become more significant than bullet drop?establishes that a one-inch group at 100 meters does not equate to a 10-inch group at 1,000 meters. If the shooter moves his horizontal sighting reticle up to the backline of his target, he is running the risk of placing one-half of his shots in the air, no matter how well he holds. I have seen this happen all too frequently in the field?and with some very good shots.
"One is almost never justified in taking a shot from dead astern. This is not only impolite, but tends to wreck the carcass, and it does not bring the game down. There are exceptions, of course, especially those dealing with an animal already hard hit that is about to make cover. Naturally, the neck shot is available from dead astern, and I have seen it brought off twice in the field, but in both cases the hunter was an outstanding marksman.
"I think perhaps the dryland hippo poses the most perplexing target. It is huge and uniformly black, but the problem is not hitting it; the problem is where to hit it. No matter how powerful your rifle is, that little bullet it fires has got to reach the right spot?and where is that?
"It is clear the hunter's problems are different from those of the soldier. It would be a mistake to say that hunters are generally better shots than soldiers, because a great many people take the field after game animals who have not even partially trained themselves in marksmanship. However, it is safe to say that the sport rifleman is likely to be a better shot than a soldier and also a better shot than the one-box-a-year deer hunter, but as the revered Townsend Whelen put it, a man's skill in the field is fully as much a matter of his anatomical knowledge as of his marksmanship. Where to aim is fully as important as how to aim."
"The major difference between the hunter's problem and that of the soldier is the fact that the hunter's target is normally a quadraped, and a quadraped offers a horizontal silhouette. The hunter must be more rigorously disciplined in his marksmanship than the soldier, because he owes his target a quick, painless death, whereas the soldier really does not care what happens to his adversary. (There is a theory that it is better to wound an enemy soldier than to kill him, because that will place a logistical burden upon the other side. It only does this, however, in static warfare, and I have never held it to be an important consideration.)
"A major marksmanship problem for the hunter is knowing where to place his shot on an animal that may be of considerable size. On an elephant, for example, there is no problem in hitting the beast, but there is a very considerable problem in hitting him in the brain, which is about the size of a football and located somewhere within that massive Styrofoam skull. It has been said that hitting an elephant in the brain is rather like hitting a Volkswagen in the carburetor. You know it is there, but under varying conditions of range and movement the question of exactly where may be daunting. The renowned Karamojo Bell killed his hundreds of elephants with small-caliber, penetrative rifles, but he made a study of elephant anatomy and knew far better than most exactly what he was shooting at.
"A common weakness in the novice hunter is his tendency to shoot at the whole beast without concentrating on the vital zone, which lies well forward in the torso. Four-footed grass-eaters are very frequently taken broadside, because they have a fatal tendency to stop and look back when they think they have outdistanced their pursuers. With an inexperienced field shot, this often results in placing the shot way too far back, with attendant unpleasant results. As a rule, one should take a broadside beast on the vertical line of his foreleg about one-third of the way up from the bottom of his torso, but a game animal is not a two-dimensional paper representation and must always be considered as a three-dimensional solid object whose vitals lie somewhere forward in his body cavity.
"A heart shot is always fatal on a game animal (and usually so on a man), but it is not usually a stopper. Consciousness and mobility continue until the blood supply fails to reach the brain, and this may take some time. On a dangerous animal, this may be time enough for the beast to reach the shooter and return his attentions. If the rifle is of proper power for the task at hand, the shot should be placed in such a way as to impact the forward bone structure as strongly as possible. A shot that breaks into the shoulder joints, preferably on both sides, normally produces a quick stop.
"The neck shot is advocated by many experienced hunters, and, of course, if the cervical portion of the spinal cord is severed, the target is stopped in its tracks. There is a lot of room in the neck, however, that is not inclusive of the spinal cord. When viewed from the side, the spine ordinarily enters the neck just behind the skull and then proceeds to drop quite low to the point where it enters the body. This means that a shot in the exact center of the trapezoid formed by the neck as viewed from the side will frequently break the neck. Not always, however. I once shot a handsome kudu bull squarely through the neck, because that was the only portion of him I could see that was not obscured by shrubbery. It is not easy to put a shot clear through the neck of a big beast like that, from one side to the other, without hitting anything vital, but I brought it off. My shot did not hit the spinal cord, nor the spine, nor the windpipe, nor any important blood vessels, and we chased that beast for almost eight hours.
"In most four-footed grass-eaters there exists a 'spinal flange' composed of vertical projections of the vertebrae above the spinal channel. At long ranges there is a tendency for the hunter to try to 'help' his rifle by shooting a little high. If, in so doing, his bullet strikes one of the projections of that spinal flange, the beast will go down in its tracks, usually accompanied by a loud crack as the bullet hits bone. That crack and the instant drop are danger signs. In many cases, the target has not been injured in any serious sense and will be up and gone the moment it gathers its wits about it.
"A mortally hit beast is often capable of running from 50 to 200 meters before it drops. The shooter should not let this distress him. If he is a good shot and he knows where his reticle was at the moment the striker went forward, he knows he has achieved his objective. If the range to the target was 100 meters or more, the Kugelschlag will come back loud and clear to corroborate his estimate.
"When the target angle on a four-footed beast diverges radically from 90 degrees, the shooter should try for the far shoulder if the animal is running away or the near shoulder if the animal is coming toward him. In both cases, if the cartridge is powerful enough, the broken shoulder bones will be accompanied by decisive damage to the 'broiler room.'
"From dead ahead, the shot is difficult, because the only satisfactory target is the spine beneath the chin and above the brisket. This spine shot may not be as broad as one would like, and if the beast is standing at a light angle it may be difficult to locate. I have seen total success and total failure on buffalo with shots taken from dead ahead, with major-caliber rifles. I once got an icer, however, on a wildebeest, when the bullet missed the spine in the neck region but continued on into the torso and paralleled the spinal column about an inch to one side, for some 18 inches. I was shooting a 30-06/180, and there was plenty of power available for a beast the size of a gnu?say, 450 pounds on the hoof.
"At comfortable ranges the shooter should attempt to put his bullet one-third of the way up from the bottom line on target. As the range increases, he may wish to move his aiming point up until it is centerlined, top to bottom. If he attempts to hold over, however, he must remember that while he may be accurately compensating for bullet drop, he is also entering the area of bullet dispersion. The field shooter cannot shoot to an exact point, but rather to a shot pattern that increases in size as the range increases?and not proportionately. The 'morning glory effect'?which, for practical purposes, states that the shooter of a high-velocity rifle (3,000 fps and higher) has little advantage over the shooter of a 2,500 fps rifle because at the distance when overhold becomes significant, range-probable error (which is dependent upon such things as wind, ammunition quality, and the shooter's stability) will become more significant than bullet drop?establishes that a one-inch group at 100 meters does not equate to a 10-inch group at 1,000 meters. If the shooter moves his horizontal sighting reticle up to the backline of his target, he is running the risk of placing one-half of his shots in the air, no matter how well he holds. I have seen this happen all too frequently in the field?and with some very good shots.
"One is almost never justified in taking a shot from dead astern. This is not only impolite, but tends to wreck the carcass, and it does not bring the game down. There are exceptions, of course, especially those dealing with an animal already hard hit that is about to make cover. Naturally, the neck shot is available from dead astern, and I have seen it brought off twice in the field, but in both cases the hunter was an outstanding marksman.
"I think perhaps the dryland hippo poses the most perplexing target. It is huge and uniformly black, but the problem is not hitting it; the problem is where to hit it. No matter how powerful your rifle is, that little bullet it fires has got to reach the right spot?and where is that?
"It is clear the hunter's problems are different from those of the soldier. It would be a mistake to say that hunters are generally better shots than soldiers, because a great many people take the field after game animals who have not even partially trained themselves in marksmanship. However, it is safe to say that the sport rifleman is likely to be a better shot than a soldier and also a better shot than the one-box-a-year deer hunter, but as the revered Townsend Whelen put it, a man's skill in the field is fully as much a matter of his anatomical knowledge as of his marksmanship. Where to aim is fully as important as how to aim."
?Jeff Cooper, The Art of the Rifle