DrMike
Ballistician
- Nov 8, 2006
- 37,310
- 5,970
I get some interesting requests as a pastor. On occasion, the requests simply sweep me off my feet. Let me go back a bit. A couple of years ago, Nahum asked if I would help him load some ammunition for his 300 Savage. I insisted that he had to do the work himself, but I would assist him however I could. The account of our work is found here:
http://forum.nosler.com/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=27085&hilit=Nahum
Nahum not only loaded his own ammunition, but he used that ammunition to take his first moose. The account of that hunt (and the way I nearly messed him up) is found here:
https://forum.nosler.com/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=29416&hilit=Nahum
Nahum's little brother, Jeremiah, accompanied us on that particular hunt. In fact, it was Jeremiah (then ten years old) who kept spotting all the moose we saw that day! Talk about a set of eyes! The boy is fantastic!
I took the boys hunting a few times since, and we've always had fun. I guess I didn't give it a lot of thought; I just enjoyed seeing young men enjoying learning the hunt. Nahum had taken a moose. His older sister, Jael, had taken a deer a couple of years back. His thirteen-year-old brother took a moose this spring. Jeremiah thought it was getting hear time that he might take a moose.
Imagine my surprise about six weeks ago following the morning service when Jeremiah approached me and said, "Pastor, I'm going to be twelve on December 21st. Would you come and take me hunting?" Friends, I'm telling you that when a going-on-12-year-old young man asks an old codger if he'll come hunting on the lad's birthday, it is a special day. Tears welled up in my eyes as I explained that there seemed to be some dust in the air. Of course, I'll take the young man hunting!
I teased him pretty mercilessly. I asked him on the 4th what we would shoot. He replied with great confidence, "Oh, moose, elk, deer, bear, caribou." Well, nothing like a broad shopping list. I wondered which rifle he planned to carry. He informed me that he would carry the 300 Savage. I couldn't argue with his choice.
Now, I have a miserable cold and cough that began on Monday morning. Nothing more miserable than a preacher with a cough that threatens laryngitis. It lends a whole new meaning to "Silent Night." Still, as I told my wife, even if I have to go up there on a bicycle, I don't want to disappoint that young man.
The family lives about two-hours north of my home. I won't say I was somewhat excited, but I awakened at 3:10 and never went back to sleep. I finally went down to my study and did some work, but my mind was on the drive. It wouldn't get light until about 0930, so I have plenty of time to get ready. I finally pulled out of my driveway at 0700 and get moving northward.
Nahum and Josiah opted to join us, so the four of us were loaded and moving at 0930 and we headed a little farther north again. Noah had originally wanted to come, but he has a severe bronchitis which meant that he would be staying home today. I had scouted out an area in the early fall with the boys, so I had an idea where we should go. We turned onto a road about thirty kilometres from the boys house and turned northeast. At about the five kilometer mark, I passed a little side road that was all snowed in. I thought I had noticed some moose tracks near the road, so I quickly backed up to take a look. As I was inspecting the roadway, Jeremiah fairly shouted, "Hey! A moose!" Now, when this boy says he saw a moose, I listen! My aged eyes attempted to focus, and I thought I might have seen a big, black bush about seven or eight hundred metres down the road. So, hoisting my Swarovski EL Range Laser, I focused on ... a very nice, young moose!
I put the truck in four-wheel drive and we turned onto the snow covered road. The snow was pretty deep (read ploughing deep) and I moved slowly toward the moose. I finally stopped as the critter contentedly nibbled on some of the tender bushes that lined the roadway. I finally stopped and ranged him. Jeremiah was already out and aiming. "Just wait, Jer," I whispered. "He's a bit far for you, I fear." My reading was 440 yards. "Get in and let's see if I can close the distance a bit." We managed to get to about 200 yards before the moose began to notice that the big, brown thing moving down the middle of the road wasn't another moose, after all! Loathe to leave his munchies, he stepped back and looked at us, took another tentative nibble and turned as though he would bound across the road and into the bush on our left side.
"Jer, get out quietly and when he gives you a broadside opportunity, shoot him," I said. Jeremiah quietly exited the cab, lowered the front window, took careful aim, and then asked, "Are you going to back me up?"
"Yes," I whispered urgently.
"Don't forget to take your safety off like you did with Nahum," he added dryly. Did I mention that he can be sarcastic?
At the shot, the moose whirled and darted into the bush on our right. He was a jet-propelled moose, hitting the after-burners as he began moving. The brothers were very helpful to Jeremiah. "I think you missed him," said Josiah. "Oh, yeah, never saw a hit on that moose," offered Nahum helpfully (or was that hopefully?). Nevertheless, we drove up to where we had seen the moose.
I was ecstatic, knowing that we could have a wounded moose and a wheezing, elderly crippled old curmudgeon tracking through the trackless woods. As I was gathering all my gear, the boys bounded into the woods on the track of the moose. (Boys do a lot of bounding; old geezers, less so.) Suddenly, I heard someone shout, "Hey! Here's blood." "Wonderful," I thought to myself, "now, we'll be tracking a wounded moose." I tried cautioning the boys to slow down to avoid moving the moose into the deep woods. Nothing like dragging a moose out of deep woods to give you an appreciation for farm implements when hunting.
Clearly, they were not going to listen to my advice. They were rushing headlong into the deep woods, I was fighting my way through thick brush, stumbling over logs hidden by the snow and observing that there was more blood than I had anticipated. That's when I heard the sound! BANG! This was followed by laughter and a considerable amount of shouting. I was still fighting my way through the underbrush.
At last, I found the boys. Nahum had gone out, thinking that I was likely lost or perhaps turtled somewhere after trying unsuccessfully to negotiate a fallen timber (don't ask BlkRam, he'll just make up a story) or perhaps in need of coronary care. Jeremiah had found the moose, down and unable to get up. Feeling pity for the poor beast, he had dispatched it with a coup de grâce. Jeremiah had shot a young bull about three years old, hitting it perfectly with a lung shot. Interestingly enough, the young bull had already dropped his antlers. Moreover, in running headlong through the deep woods, the young maverick had travelled around until he was within about twenty yards of a side road. I would be able to get the truck to within toting distance once we began the heavy work.
Jeremiah was one happy camper. He had good reason to be pleased. He used a Remington Classic chambered in 300 Savage and shooting 180 grain Hornady Interlocks that Nahum had made up two years earlier.
I managed to get all three boys together for a shot. Nahum is on the left; Josiah is in the middle; and Jeremiah is at the head. He is one pleased fellow.
We walked back to the truck to move it and to call his mom to tell her that he had a moose down. When we found a place to leave the truck, I gathered up some knives and a saw, and we went back into the deep woods. (Okay, they weren't all that deep; but they were thick!)
The boys skinned and quartered the moose under my expert guidance. :roll: I managed to offer the occasional helpful suggestion as to how they could improve the effort. They didn't even laugh all that much at my consideration. Their mother has performed yeoman service in training them to be polite.
I did explain to Jeremiah that he had to be "tagged" with the blood of his first big game animal. "You didn't do that with Nahum," he protested. "It was -19 C and I was cold," I explained. "Besides, I did tag him. I just waited until we were at the house and it was warmer so my hands wouldn't freeze." You really have to explain everything to neophytes. :twisted:
Back to the house for lunch their sister Azeriah had prepared (quite delicious, I might add). Jeremiah hopefully asked, "We aren't done hunting, are we? You know--elk, deer... Hey, there might be another moose!" Well, there went the afternoon. :mrgreen:
http://forum.nosler.com/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=27085&hilit=Nahum
Nahum not only loaded his own ammunition, but he used that ammunition to take his first moose. The account of that hunt (and the way I nearly messed him up) is found here:
https://forum.nosler.com/viewtopic.php?f=5&t=29416&hilit=Nahum
Nahum's little brother, Jeremiah, accompanied us on that particular hunt. In fact, it was Jeremiah (then ten years old) who kept spotting all the moose we saw that day! Talk about a set of eyes! The boy is fantastic!
I took the boys hunting a few times since, and we've always had fun. I guess I didn't give it a lot of thought; I just enjoyed seeing young men enjoying learning the hunt. Nahum had taken a moose. His older sister, Jael, had taken a deer a couple of years back. His thirteen-year-old brother took a moose this spring. Jeremiah thought it was getting hear time that he might take a moose.
Imagine my surprise about six weeks ago following the morning service when Jeremiah approached me and said, "Pastor, I'm going to be twelve on December 21st. Would you come and take me hunting?" Friends, I'm telling you that when a going-on-12-year-old young man asks an old codger if he'll come hunting on the lad's birthday, it is a special day. Tears welled up in my eyes as I explained that there seemed to be some dust in the air. Of course, I'll take the young man hunting!
I teased him pretty mercilessly. I asked him on the 4th what we would shoot. He replied with great confidence, "Oh, moose, elk, deer, bear, caribou." Well, nothing like a broad shopping list. I wondered which rifle he planned to carry. He informed me that he would carry the 300 Savage. I couldn't argue with his choice.
Now, I have a miserable cold and cough that began on Monday morning. Nothing more miserable than a preacher with a cough that threatens laryngitis. It lends a whole new meaning to "Silent Night." Still, as I told my wife, even if I have to go up there on a bicycle, I don't want to disappoint that young man.
The family lives about two-hours north of my home. I won't say I was somewhat excited, but I awakened at 3:10 and never went back to sleep. I finally went down to my study and did some work, but my mind was on the drive. It wouldn't get light until about 0930, so I have plenty of time to get ready. I finally pulled out of my driveway at 0700 and get moving northward.
Nahum and Josiah opted to join us, so the four of us were loaded and moving at 0930 and we headed a little farther north again. Noah had originally wanted to come, but he has a severe bronchitis which meant that he would be staying home today. I had scouted out an area in the early fall with the boys, so I had an idea where we should go. We turned onto a road about thirty kilometres from the boys house and turned northeast. At about the five kilometer mark, I passed a little side road that was all snowed in. I thought I had noticed some moose tracks near the road, so I quickly backed up to take a look. As I was inspecting the roadway, Jeremiah fairly shouted, "Hey! A moose!" Now, when this boy says he saw a moose, I listen! My aged eyes attempted to focus, and I thought I might have seen a big, black bush about seven or eight hundred metres down the road. So, hoisting my Swarovski EL Range Laser, I focused on ... a very nice, young moose!
I put the truck in four-wheel drive and we turned onto the snow covered road. The snow was pretty deep (read ploughing deep) and I moved slowly toward the moose. I finally stopped as the critter contentedly nibbled on some of the tender bushes that lined the roadway. I finally stopped and ranged him. Jeremiah was already out and aiming. "Just wait, Jer," I whispered. "He's a bit far for you, I fear." My reading was 440 yards. "Get in and let's see if I can close the distance a bit." We managed to get to about 200 yards before the moose began to notice that the big, brown thing moving down the middle of the road wasn't another moose, after all! Loathe to leave his munchies, he stepped back and looked at us, took another tentative nibble and turned as though he would bound across the road and into the bush on our left side.
"Jer, get out quietly and when he gives you a broadside opportunity, shoot him," I said. Jeremiah quietly exited the cab, lowered the front window, took careful aim, and then asked, "Are you going to back me up?"
"Yes," I whispered urgently.
"Don't forget to take your safety off like you did with Nahum," he added dryly. Did I mention that he can be sarcastic?
At the shot, the moose whirled and darted into the bush on our right. He was a jet-propelled moose, hitting the after-burners as he began moving. The brothers were very helpful to Jeremiah. "I think you missed him," said Josiah. "Oh, yeah, never saw a hit on that moose," offered Nahum helpfully (or was that hopefully?). Nevertheless, we drove up to where we had seen the moose.
I was ecstatic, knowing that we could have a wounded moose and a wheezing, elderly crippled old curmudgeon tracking through the trackless woods. As I was gathering all my gear, the boys bounded into the woods on the track of the moose. (Boys do a lot of bounding; old geezers, less so.) Suddenly, I heard someone shout, "Hey! Here's blood." "Wonderful," I thought to myself, "now, we'll be tracking a wounded moose." I tried cautioning the boys to slow down to avoid moving the moose into the deep woods. Nothing like dragging a moose out of deep woods to give you an appreciation for farm implements when hunting.
Clearly, they were not going to listen to my advice. They were rushing headlong into the deep woods, I was fighting my way through thick brush, stumbling over logs hidden by the snow and observing that there was more blood than I had anticipated. That's when I heard the sound! BANG! This was followed by laughter and a considerable amount of shouting. I was still fighting my way through the underbrush.
At last, I found the boys. Nahum had gone out, thinking that I was likely lost or perhaps turtled somewhere after trying unsuccessfully to negotiate a fallen timber (don't ask BlkRam, he'll just make up a story) or perhaps in need of coronary care. Jeremiah had found the moose, down and unable to get up. Feeling pity for the poor beast, he had dispatched it with a coup de grâce. Jeremiah had shot a young bull about three years old, hitting it perfectly with a lung shot. Interestingly enough, the young bull had already dropped his antlers. Moreover, in running headlong through the deep woods, the young maverick had travelled around until he was within about twenty yards of a side road. I would be able to get the truck to within toting distance once we began the heavy work.
Jeremiah was one happy camper. He had good reason to be pleased. He used a Remington Classic chambered in 300 Savage and shooting 180 grain Hornady Interlocks that Nahum had made up two years earlier.
I managed to get all three boys together for a shot. Nahum is on the left; Josiah is in the middle; and Jeremiah is at the head. He is one pleased fellow.
We walked back to the truck to move it and to call his mom to tell her that he had a moose down. When we found a place to leave the truck, I gathered up some knives and a saw, and we went back into the deep woods. (Okay, they weren't all that deep; but they were thick!)
The boys skinned and quartered the moose under my expert guidance. :roll: I managed to offer the occasional helpful suggestion as to how they could improve the effort. They didn't even laugh all that much at my consideration. Their mother has performed yeoman service in training them to be polite.
I did explain to Jeremiah that he had to be "tagged" with the blood of his first big game animal. "You didn't do that with Nahum," he protested. "It was -19 C and I was cold," I explained. "Besides, I did tag him. I just waited until we were at the house and it was warmer so my hands wouldn't freeze." You really have to explain everything to neophytes. :twisted:
Back to the house for lunch their sister Azeriah had prepared (quite delicious, I might add). Jeremiah hopefully asked, "We aren't done hunting, are we? You know--elk, deer... Hey, there might be another moose!" Well, there went the afternoon. :mrgreen:
