First recoil and recovery ⅔ seconds
Second aim and let off ⅔ seconds
Second recoil and recovery ⅔ seconds
Third aim and let off ⅔ seconds
Third recoil and recovery ⅔ seconds
Fourth aim and let off ⅔ seconds
So that four from one covey of partridges represents quicker shooting
than three pheasants in the air together, provided, of course, that the
partridges are not coming against a wind, and are not in straggling
formation.
These two little calculations are made in order to show the enormous
importance of as little recoil as possible, and that is also the reason
that the author has set himself to design a ballistic pendulum capable
of easily taking the momentum of recoil, and the momentum of the shot,
at the same discharge, which is a thing that cannot be done by the
chronograph, because that instrument only records the time (not the
striking velocity) of the thing that hits it and breaks connection, and
that thing is the fastest pellet instead of the average of all, or the
total of the pellets. Powder-makers can still further reduce recoil;
that is, if they are encouraged by a general demand for those powders
that give the least recoil for an equal power of shot impact.
The author was reminded not long ago by the Rev. W. Serjeantson of an
occurrence of thirty years ago. Three guns, of which he and the author’s
were two, were shooting together over dogs, and twice on the same day,
after a brood of grouse had risen, the author, having been fully
occupied in shooting, asked the keeper which way the rest of the brood
had gone. His reply was on both occasions, “They have all flown one
way.” That is, there were six up and six killed, which sounds much more
commonplace than it really is, because, as it so seldom happens that
three guns do shoot together over dogs, when by chance they do so there
is a very good excuse for two barrels to be let off at the same bird,
but of course only when the birds rise all together, as they did on
these occasions.
The most sporting bird the author has made the acquaintance of is the
Virginian quail. Three guns advancing to a point at these birds would
not often get six birds at the flush of the covey, although, on an
occasion when they rise at twice, two guns have got five, as happened
once when, with Mr. Hobart Ames, who is President of the Shovel Trust in
America, the author was shooting over his and Mr. H. B. Duryea’s
celebrated setters, one of which could easily have earned in America
£500 a year at the stud if his owner had not preferred to shoot over
him. But it is not at the rise of the covey that these birds are
difficult. As soon as they are flushed they fan out and take to covert,
and their twisting second rise, with the scrub between them and the gun,
makes them very difficult. Mr. and Mrs. Duryea are both remarkably good
quail shots; the author could not say which is the better, but he
believes Mr. Duryea claims to be the better turkey shot, a claim which
the lady admits. Mr. Duryea can even make the decoy turkey gobble by the
accuracy of his shooting upon occasion. In Tennessee the author was by
their kindness introduced to the old English fashion of shooting by the
use of shooting ponies. The mounted guns, whether one or three, had
three handlers of dogs, each mounted also, and each working a brace of
speedy dogs, and by that means covering three-quarters to a mile of
country at a beat. The horn is used to sound “a point,” and then the six
miles an hour “fox trot” is increased to hunting speed, until the point
is reached, when the shooters slide off and shoot. The useless (?)
nigger can, at such times, manage to lead six horses. This sport is a
sort of cross between hunting and shooting, as also was that of ancient
England, if all accounts are true. So was hunting in the New Forest,
when William Rufus missed his way, and ran up against an arrow by
mistake.
All good shots at their best must shoot in the same way: what differs is
the way they see their own performances and the way they describe them.
This has been dealt with on other pages. But likenesses do not end with
actual aiming, for somewhat similar to the American quail shooting
described above was the method by which the late Maharajah Duleep Singh
killed his 440 grouse in the day. That is to say, he had several brace
of dogs with as many handlers going at the same time, and rode from
point to point. But for quickness of shooting and changing guns he has
probably never been beaten. Every shooter, as far as the author can
learn, is sometimes surprised at missing with the first barrel, and at
the ease with which the second barrel accomplishes the more difficult
task. Surely we may take a lesson from the crack shots who have this
experience. The pace at which they are obliged to swing to catch up for
the second shot necessitates an uncontrollable gun at the end of the
swing—a gun going faster than merely keeping up with the bird, and they
kill because they are more forward than they thought. But if so, it may
be asked, “What then is the use of alignment?” Precious little for that
shot certainly, seeing that there is no time to correct aim. But
alignment does not mean looking down the rib and seeing the bird at the
end of it; it means looking down the rib _at_ some point in space which
moves as the bird moves, and its principal value is not that it is good
to correct aim, but that it guides the first swing to the spot. For
instance, in the second shot the gun is at the shoulder always, and
swings in to the correct place while always in alignment with the eye.
Ten years ago, Sir Ralph P. Gallwey picked out the following as the best
shots in England:—Lords de Grey, Walsingham, Huntingfield, Ashburton,
Carnegie, Wemyss, and Bradford, the Maharajah Duleep Singh, Messrs. F.
E. R. Fryer, A. Stuart Wortley, R. Rimington Wilson, and F. S. Corrance.
_Bailey’s_ list of voted-for good shots was—