What's biggest round you've used on the smallest game.
- Thread starter WheelMan
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Neal Bloom
Member
- Joined
- Dec 24, 2002
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- 334
12 gauge on a kangaroo rat.
Booran
Member
270 wby mag shooting gophers at the extream range of 15 feet. i think it went higher than the shot was long.
- Joined
- Dec 19, 2002
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- 22,542
OO buck on 8" trout. I think there was 2 1/2" left to eat.
My brother used a .375 H&H against a squirrel. He didn't shoot it directly but shot 3" below it against the rock it was perched upon. His spotter said it vaporized into a red mist.
My brother used a .375 H&H against a squirrel. He didn't shoot it directly but shot 3" below it against the rock it was perched upon. His spotter said it vaporized into a red mist.
bernie
Member
I hit a squirrel in the neck with a .308. It literally popped it's little eyes out of his sockets. It was really strange.
sssshhhhh never shot a fish, no sir not me.
If I were to shoot a fish I'd use a 12 ga with #4's and the fish would be a gar.
If I were to shoot a fish I'd use a 12 ga with #4's and the fish would be a gar.
Art Eatman
Moderator In Memoriam
Back in the dawn of time, aka the 1950s, my only centerfire rifle was an '06. Texas A&M released a report stating that seven jackrabbits eat as much grass as a cow. Now, this was during the drouth of the 1950s, and all manner of folks headed out to their pastures to slay the thieving jackrabbits.
I had taken up handloading, and my uncle gave me some 80-grain .32-20 bullets, swaged down to .308. I dumped in around 54 grains of 3031...
Got any idea what a flat-nosed bullet does to a jackrabbit, starting out at around 3,900 ft/sec or maybe better? I can tell you, Dearly Beloved, that it redefines the word "ruination".
, Art
I had taken up handloading, and my uncle gave me some 80-grain .32-20 bullets, swaged down to .308. I dumped in around 54 grains of 3031...
Got any idea what a flat-nosed bullet does to a jackrabbit, starting out at around 3,900 ft/sec or maybe better? I can tell you, Dearly Beloved, that it redefines the word "ruination".
, ArtJeremae
Member
JShirley
Thanx for the welcome but as you can see I registered in Dec when The Firing Line shut down.... I read alot.... but with people like Art posting answers to questions, I don't normally have much to add
Thanx for the welcome but as you can see I registered in Dec when The Firing Line shut down.... I read alot.... but with people like Art posting answers to questions, I don't normally have much to add
Art Eatman
Moderator In Memoriam
Gosh, Jeremae, that implies you agree with me, which means you're witty and bright and all that good stuff!
, Art
PS: But if you don't agree, for Heaven's sake, chime in.
, ArtPS: But if you don't agree, for Heaven's sake, chime in.
St. Gunner
Member
Once upon a time, in deep dark South Texas a young man was fooling around loading for a remington varmit in .22/250. He had loaded some 40 gr ballistic tips in front of H380 and they where chronographing right at 3,950fps. Late that evening while contemplating just what they would be capable of, his mother screamed from the back porch. He went to see what was the matter and a huge opposum was eating cat food and scampered off to a tree. Young man had a brilliant idea, and ran to grab the .22/250, the critter was straight up a tree, about five feet from the edge of the house. I found him in the lowest setting on the scope 6x and pulled the trigger. I thought it strange that he didn't fall out of the tree and started looking, when it began to sound like rain falling. Pretty soon a fragment of critter landed on my shoulder. I ducked into the house and blood and meat began to rain down all over the house and sidewalk. I did find a portion of the skull and a few bone fragments, but most of him seemed to turn into rain drops with hair in them.
Then their was the time I used a 405gr .45/70 load on a 5lb wild pig at about 10', it wasn't nearly as impressive as raining opposum, but it did flip him through the air for a good ways.
Then their was the time I used a 405gr .45/70 load on a 5lb wild pig at about 10', it wasn't nearly as impressive as raining opposum, but it did flip him through the air for a good ways.
Art Eatman
Moderator In Memoriam
Now, St. Gunner, the first liar doesn't stand a chance!
You know how a buzzard will glide into the wind, and sorta pause momentarily before peeling off downwind?
I had one do that right above me, about 50 or 75 feet up. I had my '06, loaded with those flat-nose bullets.
Yup. Center-punch.
It rained; I ran.
I will never, ever, do that again!!!
, Art
You know how a buzzard will glide into the wind, and sorta pause momentarily before peeling off downwind?
I had one do that right above me, about 50 or 75 feet up. I had my '06, loaded with those flat-nose bullets.
Yup. Center-punch.
It rained; I ran.
I will never, ever, do that again!!!
, ArtA friend and myself.....
were walking back to the truck, after an unsuccessful morning of deer hunting. We were both carrying Browning BARs in 30.06 Deer hunting with dogs is legal here, but I choose to hunt without them. We were walking down a pipeline, through a section of woods. All of a sudden we hear what sounds like a couple of Walker hounds running a deer. My buddy and me get 10 feet or so apart, and start looking in the woods for the deer headed our way. I can hear something moving in the leaves, but can't see anything. My buddy raises his rifle and fires. He triumphantly (sp?) says " I got him" and starts heading into the woods with me in tow. We walk about 75 yards in and my buddy stops. I look around and there's blood and guts hanging off of all the limbs 5 and 6 feet of the ground.
Then I notice the EMPTY shell of what once was an armadillo laying on the ground.
were walking back to the truck, after an unsuccessful morning of deer hunting. We were both carrying Browning BARs in 30.06 Deer hunting with dogs is legal here, but I choose to hunt without them. We were walking down a pipeline, through a section of woods. All of a sudden we hear what sounds like a couple of Walker hounds running a deer. My buddy and me get 10 feet or so apart, and start looking in the woods for the deer headed our way. I can hear something moving in the leaves, but can't see anything. My buddy raises his rifle and fires. He triumphantly (sp?) says " I got him" and starts heading into the woods with me in tow. We walk about 75 yards in and my buddy stops. I look around and there's blood and guts hanging off of all the limbs 5 and 6 feet of the ground.
Then I notice the EMPTY shell of what once was an armadillo laying on the ground.
cooch
Member
Not quite as smelly but....
I join the ranks of those quoting "never again" following a little experiment with a turtle and a .25/06.
We've not long left a drought behind, and as droughts go it was just a but more tedious than most.
During such events our dams tend to dry up and the local turtles migrate to the remaining dams. Not being very clean critturs, in numbers they tend to stink up the little remaining water.
So I practice on them.
But in this case I found one of my dams down to the sloppy-mud stage but still inhavbited by a couple of shellies that'd look more at home in a goldfish bowl than in this wide-brown (and increasingly dusty) land.
So at a range measuring five-eighths of stuff-all, I allowed for the height of the scope above the barrell and let go.
Not only is that mud black and odiferous ..... but surprisingly difficult to remove.
They tell me it's a wise man who knows when to Back Off.
I do.............. now!
Cooch
I join the ranks of those quoting "never again" following a little experiment with a turtle and a .25/06.
We've not long left a drought behind, and as droughts go it was just a but more tedious than most.
During such events our dams tend to dry up and the local turtles migrate to the remaining dams. Not being very clean critturs, in numbers they tend to stink up the little remaining water.
So I practice on them.
But in this case I found one of my dams down to the sloppy-mud stage but still inhavbited by a couple of shellies that'd look more at home in a goldfish bowl than in this wide-brown (and increasingly dusty) land.
So at a range measuring five-eighths of stuff-all, I allowed for the height of the scope above the barrell and let go.
Not only is that mud black and odiferous ..... but surprisingly difficult to remove.
They tell me it's a wise man who knows when to Back Off.
I do.............. now!
Cooch
Jeremae
Member
Art
Other than prefering the 308 to the aught six (which we all know is purely a matter of taste) I can't remember a single post you've made that I would disagree with on any point.
But rest asured, if it ever happens I won't hesitate to speak up.
Other than prefering the 308 to the aught six (which we all know is purely a matter of taste) I can't remember a single post you've made that I would disagree with on any point.
But rest asured, if it ever happens I won't hesitate to speak up.
Mike Irwin
Member
I've shot squirrels with .30-06 and .300 Savage, both loaded with lead bullets and about 10 grains of Red Dot. Very accurate, VERY dirty.
I pegged a ground hog at 337 paced yards with a .300 Weatherby many years ago. Looked like it had been hit by a Mack truck.
I also pegged another ground hog at about 45 yards with a hot loaded .45-70 out of a Ruger No. 1. Not as spectacular, but just as effective.
I pegged a ground hog at 337 paced yards with a .300 Weatherby many years ago. Looked like it had been hit by a Mack truck.
I also pegged another ground hog at about 45 yards with a hot loaded .45-70 out of a Ruger No. 1. Not as spectacular, but just as effective.
Newt
Member
Annoying armadillo got a .165 gr 30-06 touched off in it's hind parts about 5 years ago. Range: approximately 25 yds. Nasty!
Another time I offed a friend's pup who wasn't going to make it. Remington .260 ballistic tip at about 20 yds. Little bit of an overkill.
And there's always the annoying squirrel with the 30-30 bit.
Newt
Another time I offed a friend's pup who wasn't going to make it. Remington .260 ballistic tip at about 20 yds. Little bit of an overkill.
And there's always the annoying squirrel with the 30-30 bit.
Newt
Detachment Charlie
Member
OK, a water buffalo isn't exactly a small animal, but when hit with a 40mm, there ain't much left.
Ol' Badger
Member
A Chipmunk
that kept comming on my deck to eat from the Cats dish. I used a 148 gr. .38 spl at about 2 1/2 feet. I propted the Cat door open with a wooden spoon and laided there with my chin on a pillow waiting. The Chipmunk hopped up and started to munch down. I took careful aim and fired and the Chipmiunk disappered! Well, it was in 5 pices scattered around the deck!
that kept comming on my deck to eat from the Cats dish. I used a 148 gr. .38 spl at about 2 1/2 feet. I propted the Cat door open with a wooden spoon and laided there with my chin on a pillow waiting. The Chipmunk hopped up and started to munch down. I took careful aim and fired and the Chipmiunk disappered! Well, it was in 5 pices scattered around the deck!
C.R.Sam
Moderator Emeritus
Vulture "rain" could inhibit appetite.
Mouse in basement, .357 Mag.....dead.
Cottentail in garden with .405 Win....dead.
Sam.....eh ?
Mouse in basement, .357 Mag.....dead.
Cottentail in garden with .405 Win....dead.
Sam.....eh ?
Pumpkinheaver
Member
I busted a groundhog with my 45-70 once!
kidcoltoutlaw
Member
i killed a spider with a 12 GA.
Brian Dale
Member
OOOoooh - Kidcolt takes the lead! -not much meat on 'em, though...
Once Upon a Time in the (mid)West, my cousins and I used to go frog-huntin' at night. We'd spear them with trident-shaped frog gigs, kill and clean them, and soak the legs in salted water overnight. Our parents would cook them up for us at breakfast. We were also enthusiastic daytime plinkers, with any of the various weapons that we and our older relatives had around at family gatherings.
One day at the water's edge, I happened to be carrying an older cousin's .357 (Smith? Ruger? there were so many... ). As I stepped clear of the tall grass encircling the pond, I spied a plump frog on the bank. I froze. He froze. We looked at each other (can't'cha just feel the tension? ).
I prepared for the head shot; I knew that a one-shot kill would be better than our usual routine of spearing, grabbing and killing frogs. I eased my revolver up into position, thumbed back the hammer sloooowly, and squeezed.
You can't eat vapor.
"Use enough gun," Mr. Ruark?
Once Upon a Time in the (mid)West, my cousins and I used to go frog-huntin' at night. We'd spear them with trident-shaped frog gigs, kill and clean them, and soak the legs in salted water overnight. Our parents would cook them up for us at breakfast. We were also enthusiastic daytime plinkers, with any of the various weapons that we and our older relatives had around at family gatherings.
One day at the water's edge, I happened to be carrying an older cousin's .357 (Smith? Ruger? there were so many... ). As I stepped clear of the tall grass encircling the pond, I spied a plump frog on the bank. I froze. He froze. We looked at each other (can't'cha just feel the tension?
).I prepared for the head shot; I knew that a one-shot kill would be better than our usual routine of spearing, grabbing and killing frogs. I eased my revolver up into position, thumbed back the hammer sloooowly, and squeezed.
You can't eat vapor.
"Use enough gun," Mr. Ruark?
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