Let's Run Some Ball by Bob Spencer

 This post first appeared on Nov 17, 2020

Hunkering over the fire while making them will make you sweat in hot weather, but it surely feels good in the wintertime.

I make all my own balls as a matter of routine, but that is done in my garage with my electric melting pot, block molds by Lyman or Lee, and all the other equipment I might need. Moving the job into camp is not a very big change, since the basic principles remain the same, but there are some points which I think worth emphasizing.

One of the most fun things I do in camp is make my own lead round balls. It is a simple thing, but I find it very satisfying. I suppose our forebears would have been amused to think of making lead balls as entertainment, and it certainly isn't far up on the list of old time skills which are difficult to preserve. Still, it pleasures me to see a ball I made over the campfire strike true on the target, whether it is just a mark on an old stump or is my supper. They will do that, too. I find them to be as accurate for my hunting and casual shooting as the best I ever make with the modern equipment.

The molds which I use in camp are different from those I use at home. They are of the type commonly called 'bag molds', lightweight molds made for carrying in the shooting pouch or haversack. I use two different types from two different companies. One is from Rapine Bullet Mould Mfg. Co. and is made of steel. The other is of brass, and was made by Dixie Gun Works. I've used them both a fair bit, and can tell no real difference in the end product.

I found out quickly that these light molds heat up very quickly, so I always wrap the handles with strips of heavy leather to protect my hands. Notice also that there is a side cutter for removing the sprue made into each mold.

Banging around in the bottom of my haversack with the accumulated grit and detritus which collects there isn't exactly the ideal place for a good mold. I protect them by doing one of two things, slipping them in a bag or cloth of some sort, or filling the cavity with a ball. I usually do the latter, simply leave the last ball I ran in the cavity after rubbing it with some lube, then secure the handles with a thong to keep the mold closed. So far, so good.

A pouring ladle and some lead to pour are all the remaining equipment needed. I've seen many different types, over the years, and all will work. Most are made a bit heavy for my purposes, though. I always trek alone and far from the car, so I have to carry everything I need for the trek on my back. Cutting down everywhere possible on the weight becomes important, so I rejected all types until I found exactly what I needed. From some blanket at a shoot long ago, I ended up with a small blacksmith-made ladle which has served me very well over the years. It is quite small and light, and is made to be stuck into the end of a stick in camp, for a handle. It holds only about 2 ounces of lead, but that will pour three balls for my .40 caliber rifle or about nine for the .30 caliber. Lead melts very quickly over a hot fire, so it's no problem to pour several ladles, if you choose.

When I first started carrying what I needed to run ball in camp, I made two mistakes. I took too much lead along, and the pieces I took were too big. It took no time to see that I didn't need much lead, but I was a bit slow in figuring out the problem with the bigger pieces. Not really big, of course, just too big to fit into my little ladle. My first solution was to make up some small ingots of lead, bars really, by pouring melted lead into a trench gouged out of a piece of scrap wood. 

That worked very well, and I used those for a while. Still, getting them cut down to appropriate size was a nuisance, even with my belt axe and knife, so I ended up doing something slightly different. I poured ladles full of lead and let it cool into disks, carried those along. They fit right into the ladle, of course, and melted quickly, being so small. They weigh only 2 ounces, so 3-4 of them, all I need for a trip, are not enough weight to worry about. When I decide to pour some balls, I first attend to the fire. Any fire will do, but the job is so much easier if you work with a good hot bed of coals instead of a live fire. You need to get close in order to control the molten lead safely, which is easier with coals, and also, hot coals will melt the lead in short order.

I dig out my gear and lay the mold close to the fire to pre-heat. That's important here just as it is at home in the garage, it will produce acceptable balls quicker. I also smoke the cavity of the mold. By that I mean I hold it over a spot where goodly smoke is rising until the cavity is covered with soot. That helps the balls to release easily once you get going. I'll even light a stub of candle, sometimes, and smoke it over that flame, because the black soot from burning wax or tallow seems particularly good for this purpose.

When the coals are ready and the mold is hot, the rest is as simple as A-B-C. Stick the ladle on a stick, drop a disk of lead in and hold it over the coals until it melts. Pour the mold full, making certain to pour a little excess. I usually pile up some green grass or leaves as a soft spot for the fresh balls, and I drop them onto this as they are poured. My bag molds usually open and release the balls easily, but a tap with a stick will cure them if they don't.

Just as when casting balls in the garage, temperature of the mold is important. If the mold is not hot enough, I wind up with wrinkled balls. It it is too hot, the balls are frosted. 

When I have it right, the balls come out smooth and bright. I find that the temperature of bag molds fluctuates more than with block molds, simply because of the lesser mass. They heat up quickly, but also cool down quickly. Having to stop and melt lead every 3-6 balls means the mold will cool off, so it is a bit more trouble to maintain just the right temperature. Not a big problem, just a nuisance. Stick it near the fire while melting lead.

Once all the balls are poured, I clip off the sprues with the sprue cutter on the mold and then trim off any unwanted excess or roughness with my belt knife. Save all the lead for another day.

It's a simple job, but a pleasant one. A great way to while away a little time in camp, conjure up visions of yesteryear. As a bonus, I find that shooting balls cast over a campfire adds zest to my hunting, flavors the meat in a way hard to describe. Romantic, sentimental nonsense! True, true, but I'm stuck with it.

Copyright © 2003 B. E. Spencer. All rights reserved.

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Code: shot01 bs01

Smoothbore Buck by Bob Spencer

This post first appeared on Dec 16, 2020

As the light level slowly fell a few minutes before sunset, I resigned myself to yet another day on a deer stand with no action. That had been the case in the same location in the morning, and I expected it would be no different now. Hunting on my farm in Kentucky, I was familiar
with most of the areas that deer moved in, and I had thought this spot would be a good one.

Two hours before legal shooting time that morning, I had slipped quietly to the base of a large oak tree, moving upwind along the creek. Electing to hunt on the ground, I cleared a spot of all the noisy leaves and twigs I could find and settled in for a long wait. It wouldn't be so bad this time, because the overnight low was only 45 degrees, and the wind was very light. It was the first day of the modern gun season in Kentucky, but I always hunt with a muzzle loader.

Two large fox squirrels and a much smaller grey were my only entertainment that morning. The fox squirrels simply passed through, going to breakfast somewhere else. The grey ran up into an osage orange tree a few yards away and proceeded to feed, I guess, on an orange. He leaned far down and cut the orange loose, attempting to raise it to his level. It was much too heavy, so he wound up franticly holding onto the branch with his back feet and onto the orange with his front. That orange stretched him out until he looked a yard long before, after ten seconds, it tore from his grasp. He scrambled to recover his perch, then gave up in disgust and dashed off through the tree tops. I didn't blame him.

Although no deer had moved in the morning, several shots were fired in the area, so I was back in the same spot an hour before sunset that evening. The woods around me were fairly clear except for an area of really trashy stuff to my left front, upwind. The edge of a pasture was up a steep slope in front of me and about twenty-five yards away.

When I saw a flicker of movement in the trash, my first thought was that it was a squirrel, and I smiled to think of that grey juggling the osage orange. Watching intently, I saw that a deer was making its way toward the pasture, through the trash and up the slope. When it came into a more clear area, I saw that it was a small buck, a button. He minced along slowly, picking his way, and walked into the pasture and out of sight, never having been more than twenty-five yards from me. When I first realized a buck was in front of me, I raised my rifle and followed him along, waiting for a shot. I could never get his chest in my sights, so I let him walk away.

Now my head kicked into high gear, and I began calculating the possibilities. This was not my ordinary deer hunt, because I was carrying a flintlock for the first time, and not just any flintlock. For several years I had been in the market for an early American fowler. About five years ago, I bought what I thought was one at an auction. It seemed to be about 20 gauge, with a barrel of 49 1/2 inches and a very plain, slim profile. When I tried feeding it 20 gauge wads, I found that the bore was coned, and the gun was really a smooth rifle, .55 caliber from the breech to within 8 inches of the muzzle. I found that 28 gauge wads fit perfectly, so I worked up some shot loads and the old gun did very well with from 50-70 gr. FFg and equal volume of #6 and #7 1/2 shot. I do some solo treking on the guise of a Kentucky settler of 1778, so I incorporated the gun into my outfit and carried it for a while, doing only casual shooting, some squirrel and rabbit hunting. Swinging on running rabbits with that long barrel was...interesting.

In the mountains of northeastern Nevada in September, 1994, I took a nice mule deer buck with, as usual, my Ozark Mountain Arms .54 caliber Hawken. While musing with a friend in camp one evening, I became intrigued with the idea of taking a deer with a flintlock. My flintlock rifles are a .30 caliber and a .40 caliber, but I am a firm believer in large roundballs for large game, so when I returned home I began looking for a larger caliber rifle to buy. Then it dawned on me that I already owned a big flintlock, the old smooth rifle. But, could it be made to shoot heavy charges for deer? Could I hit anything with it?

During the few weeks before the deer season opened, I concentrated on working up a load for the gun, and was very pleased with the results. Starting at 80 gr. FFg behind a .540 round ball with a heavy patch, I worked up to a maximum charge of 110 gr. FFG with no apparent problems. All the charges gave acceptable accuracy, but a 100 gr. charge seemed best. One afternoon I shot at a 100 yard muzzle loading target with a 6 inch bull and a 1 inch "X" ring, sitting cross-legged and using the ramrod as a monopod. From 75 yards, I put the first shot absolutely in the "X", without breaking the ring. Considering that the gun has no rear sight and only a very low silver blade front sight, I decided that was all the evidence I needed to use it in the deer season.

Sitting under that tree, I considered the situation. The deer could be just over the rise, in the edge of the pasture. Stalking conditions were good, and there was a fair screen of trees between me and him, so it might be possible to move up the slope enough to get a shot. It wasn't a very big deer, not one I'd usually shoot with my Hawken, but I was hunting with an original flintlock. When would an opportunity such as this present itself, again? Quicker than it takes to tell it, I decided, and started slipping quietly up the slope, every sense alert.

I hadn't moved 15 yards when I became aware of movement through the trees to my right. I froze, then slowly swiveled my head around. The little buck was standing about 50 yards away, looking me in the eye. I stayed still and watched. It was nervous, and curious. Over a period of 5 minutes or so, it first trotted another 50 yards away, then pranced back toward me. In short fits and starts, moving first away, then toward, it moved back very near where it was when I first saw it watching me. Throughout this, it constantly raised and lowered its flag, spreading it out to impressive size.

Every time an opportunity presented itself, I turned a little to my right and raised my gun a little more. Eventually, I was able to get into a steady position with the gun rested on my hand which was holding onto a small tree. I cocked the hammer and put the sight on the chest. The first time the buck turned so that I had a clear shot at the chest area, I squeezed off the shot.

I'm always startled how much noise a large caliber black powder weapon makes, and how large a cloud of smoke appears. Before the scene was blotted out, I saw the buck smashed down onto its side, and it made no attempt to get up. It twitched a couple of times, then lay still. I started reloading, but it was obvious the deer was dead, so I didn't continue.

The shot entered just in front of the left shoulder and exited at the bottom of the ribs on the right, taking all major vessels as it went. That's the way I prefer to kill game, suddenly, with smashing power.

The little deer provided me with many delicious meals over the winter, each one made sweeter by the fact that it had been harvested with black powder, and an original flintlock at that. That was my first with the old gun, but I don't plan for it to be the last.

©1995 B.E. Spencer

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Code: hunt01 bs01

Flintlocks In Bad Weather by Bob Spencer

This post first appeared on  Dec 2, 2020

Wet weather has been a problem for flintlock shooters since the lock was invented in about 1610. Those of us us who favor that ignition system in today's world are faced with the same difficulties, and it seems that many of us never overcome them. That's too bad. It is a real disappointment to have gotten in position to take a nice deer or elk and fail to do so because the pan is full of slush, instead of the good dry prime we need. Disappointing, but almost totally avoidable. Wet weather flintlock shooting is a learned skill, and we can overcome the problem with the application of a little thought and effort.

The design of the lock is one important consideration. There is a type of lock known as "waterproof", which, of course, isn't. No lock is totally waterproof, but this type is engineered so that there is no excess pan exposed below the frizzen, and this helps prevent channeling of water into the pan. I would select this type for a gun I knew was going to be subjected to foul weather regularly, if it were possible. It usually isn't.

The ordinary lock most of us use has a wide flange around the pan, and this mates with the bottom, or foot, of the frizzen when the frizzen is closed. This joint is a frequent source of trouble. Take your lock off and hold it up to the light so you are looking at that joint. If you can see light between the flange of the pan and the foot of the frizzen, you need to do some work. This joint needs to mate exactly, so that no light will be visible. Some careful filing and stoning will usually make that happen. Remove the frizzen from the lock and work at it slowly, and it's not a difficult job to make both sides perfectly flat, as they need to be.

In his series of tests of locks, reported in Muzzleloader, Peter Alexander did a 'wet' test of each lock. He primed the pan and closed the frizzen, then put his finger over the opening where the pan communicates with the flash-hole. He then submerged the lock completely in water and held it there for one full minute. He then took it out, blew off any excess water, turned the lock upside down and fired it. Most of the locks he tested passed the test, and yours should, too, if you've done a proper job of mating that joint.

Once you are satisfied with the lock, there are other things you need to do to help assure reliable ignition. One of the most important is to check for "channeling" of water into the lock. On most guns, water can run down along the barrel, in the joint where the stock and barrel meet, and straight into the pan. This can happen even if you are protecting the lock from being directly rained on with a cow's knee, or some such. You can tell by looking whether this is possible with your gun. If so, then it's easy to fix. Before you go out into the rain/snow, fill that joint with some of your paste patch lubricant, Wonderlube, homebrew, or whatever. Fill it up for about a foot in front of the lock. This will divert any water away from the lock. You can also help prevent this by carrying the gun in a slightly muzzle-down position as much as possible.

If you want to be extra certain, before you prime your piece, smear a thin coat of your paste lube on that pan/frizzen joint discussed earlier. Don't go to extremes, just make certain the entire joint is covered. With a good fit and a thin coat of grease, water will not enter.

On March 15, 1759, General Amherst, Commander in Chief of all British Forces in North America during the Seven Years (F&I) War, gave the following order while soliciting men for a campaign: "And every Man, is to be well clothed, and be furnished with a good Firelock, Powder Horn, Shot Bag, and Cover for the Lock of his Gun, with three Pound of Ball fit for his Gun, and a good Blanket". That "Cover for the Lock of his Gun" is called a cow's knee, today, but serves the same purpose now as then, to keep the lock dry in wet weather. No one who shoots a flintlock in the rain or snow should be without a cow's knee, some kind of leather cover to put over the lock. Treat it thoroughly with grease or wax. I use my regular beeswax-lard patch lube, but have used Sno-Seal for years with good results. Make it simple in design, small and convenient to carry and simple to use. If it's complicated or difficult to use, you won't. They work very well, indeed, but not if they are in your shooting pouch.

A lot of people search constantly for a magic additive to mix with their priming powder to waterproof it. That's totally unnecessary, a waste of good money and an unneeded hassle. If dry prime is put into a dry pan, and the methods mentioned above are adhered to, a flintlock will fire every time, in rain or snow. The biggest mistake most people make is in not cleaning the pan thoroughly after every shot on those wet or humid days. If you are not going to shoot again immediately, the pan must be cleaned of *every last bit* of the residue of the last shot, because the salts left from burning black powder are strongly hygroscopic, and will suck moisture out of the air like a sponge, on some days. Good quality unburned black powder is not hygroscopic enough to cause any problem, and it will stay useable in the pan for hours and hours on the most humid day. If you mechanically exclude liquid water by the steps mentioned, and start with dry prime and a clean pan, the gun will fire.

I know, I know, lot of people will disagree with the statement that black powder isn't hygroscopic. You are free to do so. I've hunted for years in extreme humidity, rain and snow, and have proven to my own satisfaction that the statement is correct. I have never once, not a single time, had a flintlock fail to fire because dry powder in a clean, dry pan had absorbed enough moisture from humid air to prevent ignition.

The only priming powder I've ever used is plain old FFFFg, most of it Hodgens or Goex.

In a discussion of this subject on the MLML, some good suggestions were made which need to be included here. Bill White pointed out that a rough, unpolished pan affords a multitude of tiny crevasses and cracks, each of which is a perfect hiding place for the salts left in the residue of the burned prime. Polishing the pan markedly reduced the problem he was having with soup in the pan after firing. He used crocus cloth on his finger, and a Dremel tool with rubber polishing tips to make the pan as shiny smooth as possible. Roger Lahti feels that FFFg powder used as prime has less tendency to draw moisture. Thomas Crooks warns that a ramrod can swell with moisture and stick in the ramrod channel, and should be sealed to prevent this. He also says, "Do not use the type of primer container that relies on being pressed into the pan to dump the priming. Moisture will work its way into the nozzle and plug it up. Use something you actually pour from and does not touch the pan's surface." And: "In driving rain, shelter the neck of your powder horn from the water. I found that water accumulated around the neck and plug, and, when I unstoppered the horn to load, the little bit of water was enough to wet the powder and partially block the neck of the horn--had to use my vent pick to clear it out."

Some of the most enjoyable days afield I've ever experienced have been rainy, snowy days. There is something special about them, a different feel, a different look. The hunting can be very good, too. Whenever such an opportunity presents itself, I never hesitate to take advantage of it, and I never worry that my flintlock will let me down because of the wet. I've carried it all day in constant rain, many times, and had it fire instantly at the end of the day. Many of those times, that end-of-the-day shot was fired using the prime I put in early in the morning.

A flintlock is a marvelous machine. There are some disadvantages to them, some handicaps. I'm firmly convinced, though, that we create many of them by not knowing how to use the guns correctly. Shooting in the rain is certainly one of those problems which can be overcome with a little thought and effort.

Copyright © 1998 B.E. Spencer, all rights reserved. Photo #4 by Chuck Phelps.

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Code: shot01 bs01

Some Favorite Trail Foods by Bob Spencer

First published on Dec 30, 2020

Most of my outdoor activities related to colonial living are done solo, and I've settled on a few foods which, as far as I can discover, are documented to the period of the 1780s, my chosen period of interest. Here are a few camp and trail foods I usually carry. All are chosen for simplicity of preparation, low bulk and weight, and of course, taste. I keep the cooking very simple while on the trail. These simple, lightweight foods, along with some parched corn-maple sugar trail mix for munching during the hike or the hunt, are all I have ever wanted.

All these foods can be prepared with minimal equipment. My kit consists of only a plain 7-cup tin boiler, a tin cup and a horn spoon. Using my belt knife or patch knife and my fingers, I never need anything else for fixing or eating the food.

Meal on a Stick: On the first day of any trek I usually cook some fresh meat. I use chicken breasts, pork or venison loin, usually. All these foods are best cooked over a good bed of hot coals, not over flames. After putting it on a stick, just as for toasting marshmallows, I rub in a fair amount of salt, black or cayenne pepper and, usually, an ample grinding of nutmeg, the quintessential spice of the eighteenth century. It takes between thirty and forty-five minutes to roast these meats. Cook them slowly until golden brown on the outside. Make sure the chicken (wash your hands after handling) and pork are cooked thoroughly, leave the venison nicely pink in the middle. If the weather is warm and you plan to cook the meats for the evening meal, you can cheat a little by starting with them frozen. Wrapped in a simple cloth, they will still be cold and safe at dinner time.

Plain Venison Jerky: I like to use better cuts for my deer jerky, usually loin or ham. Preparation is very simple, using either a dehydrator or a regular oven. Because I use it in preparing other dishes, I don't season it at all during jerking. Slice the meat about one-quarter inch thick and place it in the dehydrator or in the oven at a very low setting, 150F-200F. It will take 8-12 hours, maybe a bit more, depending on your dehydrator or oven. Let it get very dry, hard and brittle. It can be kept for months in a sealed jar or almost indefinitely if properly wrapped and frozen. To use, simply soak it in water till soft or simmer it in the dish it is to be used in.

Pocket Soup, Portable Soup, Beefe Glue: In the literature of colonial times, mention is made of "pocket soup", "portable soup", "powdered beefe" and "glue broth". This was their equivalent of bullion, and they used it in about the same way. Basically, it is a simple broth made by boiling bones and meat trimmings for several hours until it concentrates into a syrupy consistency, then pouring it in a shallow layer and allowing it to dry till hard (by leaving it in the sun for several days). This was reconstituted by dissolving it in hot water, and served as a sort of instant stock.

Here's my adaptation of the old recipes. This presumes a freshly killed, butchered and de-boned deer.

Break all the long bones to allow access to the marrow, add most of the spine and neck bones, whatever tendons or ligaments are available and all the joints on both front and back legs.. Put these into a large stock pot, cover them with water and bring it to a boil. After boiling covered for 8 hours, remove all the meat and bones and let the liquid cool overnight in the refrigerator. In the morning there will a layer of hard white fat and floating solids on top, which you should scoop off completely. Continued to boil, now uncovered, and in about 6 more hours the broth will be very thick, like warm molasses. Be careful not to let it burn. Pour this into a shallow bread pan, and it will make a layer about 3/8 inch thick. When it cools, it will be the consistency of hard jello, very rubbery. Remove it from the pan, cut it into rectangles, place it on waxed paper and dry it in the dehydrator for one day, and it will turn hard. It tastes like a very flavorful meat broth. An old recipe calls for salt, pepper, mace, cloves and brandy to be added during the boiling, which sounds much more highly seasoned than mine. I add only 1 teaspoon of salt.

It is necessary to have an adequate amount of cartilage and connective tissue to begin with, because the "soup" won't ever get hard without it, that's where the gelatin comes from. If you include all the joints and the spine, it should be alright, but you can add a couple of pounds of pig's feet to make sure. I've never had to do that.

One of the ways the long hunters used this food was to reconstitute it by boiling, then adding a few spoonfuls of parched corn and cooking until this thickened. The result is a sort of meat flavored porridge, very tasty and satisfying.

A square of pocket soup about 2 X 3 inches dissolved in 1 1/2 cup boiling water makes a nice stock. I usually add 1/4 cup toasted yellow stone ground corn meal to the broth and simmer it for about 10 minutes until it thickens nicely. Salt and pepper seasoning make a very tasty meat-flavored "hasty pudding". This is easy to do in camp, and carrying enough cornmeal and pocket soup squares for several day's meals is very little trouble, both being so light and compact. Jerky cut into small pieces and added to the mix makes an even more sustaining meal, and adds little to the weight of my pack.

Drinks: Hot chocolate made with about three cups of water to one disk of Mexican chocolate and about two tablespoons of muscavado sugar really hits the spot at the end of the day and gives you a nice energy boost. Sassafras tea is a tasty and easily made drink, and carrying a few pieces of sassafras root takes almost no room in my kit. A few pieces boiled until the liquid is the color of iced tea, then a tablespoon or so of brown, muscavado or maple sugar added makes a great pick-me-up, and the pieces of root can be used many times. I also carry loose tea, either gunpowder or lapsing souchong, and simply add one teaspoon to each cup of boiling water and let it steep for 3-4 minutes for a good cupper. My coffee is also very simple. I just boil water, add about two teaspoons ground roasted coffee for each cup, remove from the fire and let it steep for ten minutes or so.

Acceptable Additions: These regular items may be part of my mess on most any trek. In addition, I carry along whatever I want of the foods in season. Apples, peaches, pears and any other fruits are easy to carry, are historically correct, and satisfy both hunger and thirst. Dried fruits, also, serve as tasty munchies on the trail and can be cooked in a little water and sugar for a simple, nourishing and tasty dessert. Sweet potatoes can be simply buried in hot ashes until done, corn on the cob can be either boiled whole, cut up into my pocket soup or roasted on a stick like a weaner. At certain times of the year free foods can be gathered from the land. I have collected and eaten blackberries, may apples, morel and puffball mushrooms, persimmons, black walnut, hazelnuts, hickory nuts, fresh fish and frog legs, rabbit, squirrel, snapping turtle, and many other things to good advantage. I also usually bake up a few small round "penny loaves" of plain white or dark wheat bread to use for the first 2-3 days of a trip or camp. I find that much more simple than trying to make bread in camp by any method I've tried, and bread seems to really round out any meal, whether eaten plain or toasted on a stick.

A good substitute for ground, parched corn and maple sugar can be made from readily available round corn tortilla chips. I prefer Kroger brand. They are salted only a little, if at all. Simply put a bunch of them in a single layer on a cookie sheet and bake them in the oven at about 250 degrees until golden brown. Don't let them burn. Pulverize them in a food processor, add the maple sugar to your taste as they are being chopped, and you will have a very tasty and handy trail food, much more tender than the real thing. I also like them with brown sugar instead of maple. Be careful not to get them too sweet.

I usually roast some pumpkin seeds every fall for munching on the trail or in camp. Simply separate them from the fibrous pulp of the pumpkin, sprinkle with salt and roast in a single layer on a cookie sheet, or such, at 250F for 25-30 minutes. Don't wash them, the residual pulp helps hold the salt and adds a little something to the taste. 

The pumpkin flesh can be dried and kept for long periods, then rehydrated in camp and simmered with some sugar, ginger, nutmeg and cinnamon for a tasty stew which tastes like pumpkin pie. Rehydrating the pumpkin takes a few hours, usually, so it's not for the noon break, more for the evening meal at a more permanent camp, when you can let it soak all day. Many references tell of the use of dried pumpkin in colonial times, so this one is on firm historical ground.

Copyright © B. E. Spencer 2001-2003 All rights reserved.

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Code: food01 bs01

A Squirrel Stew Recipe by Bob Spencer

This post first appeared on Dec 30, 2020

On a warm August Saturday, sneak into the woods in the early morning, dressed in the costume of a settler of 1778, and carrying a .30 caliber flintlock squirrel rifle. If it has rained the night before, leaving the trees saturated and dripping, the ground wet and silent, and the air full of early morning mist, so much the better. Pay little attention to the soft yellow glow of the steamy air, for it will distract you from your mission. Ignore the moccasins and leggings wet from walking in the weeds; they will dry tomorrow.

Listen carefully for the sounds of squirrels cutting or moving out of their night nests, looking for breakfast. Pay particular attention to the area around the hickory and walnut trees, and don't be fooled into thinking the shower of water falling from the trees with the slightest breeze is your quarry. When you find a young boar fox squirrel cutting on a walnut high in the tree and 20 yards away, shoot him in the head, offhand. Have confidence---the rifle is a tack-driver, and will do its job if you do yours. When he tumbles down, don't forget to reload quickly, as there might be hostiles about.

You may notice that as you hunt you feel a little strange, that you are too relaxed, that your shoulders feel light, as if a load had been lifted from them, that you find yourself concentrating totally on the hunt. Don't worry, the feeling is temporary and will go away within two days when you return to the settlement.

With your squirrel in hand, find a secluded nook in the woods somewhere, a place with the feel of being far away from it all, with a supply of dead wood around, and some beauty to it. A smooth spot of ground for your bedroll would be welcome. So would a log to sit on. Set up your camp, simple as it is, and get comfortable. No matter how great you are feeling now, keep the whistling to a minimum.

Scout around in the wet woods, rounding up hanging wood and the smallest pieces of dead cedar you can find. Break out your fire starting kit, lay your firewood out so it is handy, and build a small teepee of the cedar. Empty the pan of the flintlock, plug the touchhole with a bird feather, and lay a piece of charcloth in it. Close the frizzen, cock, set and fire the lock. When the sparks catch in the charcloth, take it out and fold it into your cedar bark tinder and blow steadily on it, holding it high so the smoke won't get in your eyes. When it catches, put it into the teepee and feed it until you have a steady fire going.

When coals have developed, put your only pot on to boil some sassafras tea, and toast an ear of sweet white corn and a chunk of homemade bread, both from your haversack, on a stick until golden brown. Sit on a log and have your breakfast, listening to the birds, admiring the view and relaxing after your exertions.

Add larger wood to the fire. Clean and cut up the squirrel and put it to boil with salt, pepper, and cayenne pepper. Be certain the pot is setting steady over the coals, or you may have baked squirrel. While the pot boils, put a small leaf on a dead tree about 25 yards away and fire your rifle at it offhand, just for the fun of it, for a dozen shots or so. As you clean your rifle, take a close look at it. Notice the beautiful golden sheen of the tiger stripe maple, the patina on all the brass furniture and inlays, the delicate, graceful lines. Throw it to your shoulder and feel how naturally it falls into place and lines up with the eye. Hard to tell if it's just a utilitarian tool or a work of art, isn't it? It's both, of course. Get out your tomahawk and practice sticking a spot on the tree. Don't quit until you can hit the spot most of the time. That skill may save your life someday.

Now, break out your copy of John Locke and, sitting leaned back against a tree, read for a while to refresh in your mind the great good fortune you have had to live in this country. Offer a word of thanks to all those wise good men to whom you owe such a debt. When the squirrel has simmered for 1 1/2 hours or so, rummage in your haversack for two small potatoes and an onion. Chop these into the stew and cook for another 45 minutes. While you wait, gather up a supply of wood sufficient for the night fire.

Cut the kernels off an ear of the corn into the stew, and check the seasonings. Tear off another chunk of bread and toast it on the stick, pour a cup of cool water from your gourd canteen, and by that time the stew will be finished, the meat falling off the bones, steamy hot and refreshing. Enjoy the fruits of your labor. A word of thanks to the spirit of the squirrel might be appropriate.

Clean the pot and put some water and coffee into it. Boil for 10 minutes, then pour a little cold water down the side of the pan to settle the grounds and immediately pour yourself a hot, clear cup of delicious coffee. That will top off the stew perfectly. If you are in the mood, light up your clay pipe.

After you have set and sipped the coffee for a while, just relaxing and being glad you came, hike 1/2 mile to the small lake. Spend an hour shooting at a rock, watching fish jump, being amazed at the antics of the Eastern kingfisher that lives there. Hike back to camp in the approaching evening, enjoying the view from the hill. Notice how misty the air is, how the occasional small sunbeam breaking through the overcast lights up a spot on the ground, how the green hills and woods change to blue, then purple, in the distance. Enjoy the cool, overcast and humid day. Take your time. There is no reason to do anything but what comes into your head, at your own pace. The day belongs to you.

In the early evening, meander over to the field nearby and watch two gorgeous red whitetail does browse and then bed down right in front of you, obviously feeling secure and well fed. Stand absolutely still for 20 minutes. Though they are close and you are completely out in the open, they will let you share a small part of their daily life. How different from the three you saw in the woods while squirrel hunting this morning, blowing in alarm and bouncing off through the woods, flags waving.

Notice the redtail hawk that flies away in front of you as you return to camp, staying low to the ground. Not at all like the one you saw in the morning, circling and screaming at the top of his voice.

Back in camp, break out the candles and holders, roll out your blanket on the groundcloth, and light up your clay pipe. Putter around while it gets darker, making sure your kit is secure from the raccoons. Enjoy chatting with the catbird that spends a half hour "meowing" at you, flitting through the brush all around camp. Notice how very little light even a large campfire makes. And how early the night comes on overcast days.

Sit by your tree again, with a candle on each knee, and read John Locke some more. There is more there than you will ever absorb. Very important words, which we all tend to forget. When the coyote puppies start growling and wrestling in the field nearby, ignore them. They are just being kids.

Poke the fire, gaze into the coals and remember all the campfires you have built, in many places, and with many friends. Remind yourself that there is no such thing as an unsuccessful camp if your mind is properly attuned, whether the hunt is fruitful or not. Recall the delightful discussions, the shared times, the cleansing that always comes as surely as smoke from the fire. Time spent around a fire in a happy camp is among the best of time to be had, whether alone or with a companion. Enjoy it.

In a couple of hours you will notice that your eyes are heavy and your muscles weary. Pile several large chunks on the fire to try to retain embers for your morning coffee, check your gear one more time and stretch out on your pallet. Roll your rifle shirt up for a pillow, squirm around to find a spot that fits your bones, and lie a while listening to the fire pop, watching the light dance on the leaves overhead. That scratching on the bark in a nearby tree is probably a raccoon starting out on his nightly rounds, but your gear is cinched up and safe. Sleep soundly for a change. You have earned it, and with your mind so in tune with the natural world around you, and your body so tired from honest effort, it will be easy.

When the early morning light comes to wake you, just stretch, roll over and lie there for a while. Spend a little time watching the woods come alive. Listen to the first tentative chirping of the birds, the soft sighing of the gentle wind moving through the trees around you.

Put some small stuff on the embers and fan a fire to life with your hat. Boil some coffee, toast some bread and corn, and break your fast. While you eat, notice how you seem to be enclosed in a small clearing in the early morning fog, how the trees fade away into the mist, the steady increase in light as the sun makes its way over the horizon out there somewhere. Soak up that wonderful feeling of being part of the natural world around you as surely as the trees and birds. Store up what you can of it, because you will find yourself in short supply soon enough.

Fire the flintlock at the tree to make sure it functions after having been kept in your bedroll with you all night, because hostile attacks frequently come at dawn. It will fire first time, as usual. Taking your easy time, put your gear together and load up for the trip back to the stockade. The feast is over.

This recipe can be adjusted to feed as many as you wish. Just add more squirrels. Eaten alone, it will be contemplative and relaxed, but will be missing that pleasant companionship that comes from sharing what you have, and what you are, with a friend. Lively conversation may be substituted for quiet musing if you choose. The best part of this recipe is that the choice of ingredients is strictly up to you.

©1995 B.E. Spencer

Read the original post here.

Code: food01 bs01

A Simple Trek by Bob Spencer

This post first appeared on Nov 17, 2020

In 2000, Bob Spencer wrote a series of posts on black powder shooting, trekking, and the the 1750's wilderness lifestyle. When I found his site, I made hard-copies of his most relevant posts, and when I re-discovered them in a binder, thought my fellow SVML members would enjoy reading. After some searching, I found the original site, and will include links to each post at the end of the text. It has been modified slightly for easier reading. Enjoy!

As I grow older I become increasingly aware of a problem common to older people, that of feeling out of place in the modern world. It's as though the world is changing more rapidly than I can accommodate, as indeed it is. Stress generated by the increasing rate of change is a cause for concern among younger people, too, of course, but they are in general more mentally and psychologically flexible, better able to 'go with the flow' than we older types. Their turn will come.

I've always had frequent need to disconnect from the hustle and bustle of modern life, and I've always turned to the natural world as my refuge. Whenever things begin to pile up, I feel the urge to head for the woods, the open spaces. I've done many things in the past decades which accomplish what I need in that respect, hunting and fishing, mostly, but also backpacking, hiking, outdoor photography, flying old wood and cloth planes, sailing, wood fire cooking, archery, bird watching, the study of the natural history of wildlife.... well, the list is long, and they were and are fun activities. It has occurred to me, recently, though, that there is one thing which I do that is by far the best I've found at allowing me to disconnect, and that is trekking.

I got seriously involved with the sport of black powder shooting and hunting almost thirty-five years ago. Thirty years ago I gave up hunting with modern guns completely, and for the next almost twenty years the sport of black powder shooting *was* the sport of black powder hunting. Those were grand years, and I have a head full of memories from those times. But, with little fanfare and completely unbeknownst to me, about a dozen years ago I was infected with a pernicious bug, that of "living history", "re-enacting", "experimental archeology", whatever you choose to call it. I don't think I'll ever recover. I should be so lucky.

I made all my own clothes and gear as far as was possible for me, developed an insatiable appetite for information about the life style of my ancestors, 1770 era, and began to do some simple hiking and camping trips, in colonial clothes and using only the gear available to them in their time. Right from the first I knew this was something special for me, that I could really get into it. Because the guns and hunting were always a part of it, my black powder hunting quickly merged with my re-enacting, and what I call trekking emerged.

What is trekking? Depends upon whom you ask, of course, as does most everything. Many people wouldn't even call what I do trekking. For me, my definition is the only one which is important, and it's pretty simple. Time spent in the woods in colonial garb, using colonial gear and colonial skills appropriate to the time period. That's all. Travel through the woods may be part of it, but it may not. Hunting, likewise, may or may not be on the agenda. A simple day trip, an overnight, a squirrel hunt in colonial garb, a day spent practicing the skills, the list is endless. All are trekking, for me, and all accomplish what I need, disconnection.

Whatever activity I decide on, there is one hard and fast rule, no cheating. A vital aspect of my trekking is that of experiencing life as my ancestors did, and I can't do that if I take any shortcuts. I don't. If I can't start my fire with flint and steel or in some other primitive way, I go without it. No heat, no hot food and drink, no light, because I don't bring along any modern way of starting it. The same holds true of all aspects of the sport, whether it involves the food, shelter, clothing, guns and their gear, rainy weather, etc. I can't do this perfectly, because I'm a modern man in my head, but I eliminate all obvious anachronisms.

Most of my trekking has been and is done on my farm. It's in rolling country with scattered woods lots, some ponds and streams, and just over two hundred acres of land to roam over. It only produces hay, so there isn't much "farming" to bother me. It's large enough so that I can easily get out of the sight of all civilization, and a few mental illusions do the rest. A couple of recent trips illustrate what my treks consist of.

After the recent holidays, which were very pleasant, what with all the children and grandchildren visiting for several days, I felt the urge. I decided to spend the day out, maybe do some rabbit hunting, do some cooking, whatever struck me. The night before, I got all the clothes out and checked them, put together the supplies and gear I would need for both roundball and shot shooting, for fixing a bite to eat and something to drink. I didn't sleep well that night, from simple anticipation, even though I have done this many times before. It's that good for me.

I arrived at the farm at about 0930, all decked out in period garb and ready for a day afield. It was 38F, clear, bright, but windy, up to 20K at times. Because it had been quite some time since I had been out, and some serious water had passed under my bridge in the interval, I spent the first hour just hiking around and looking at things, enjoying the feel of the cold ground under my moccasins and of being back where I belonged, watching for critters, looking for a place to build my lunch fire. I picked a spot in a cedar thicket with little undergrowth, open and covered with needles and moss, with a lot of downed wood nearby and a small, gurgling stream to listen to. I collected some squaw wood and built a fire using my burning glass, char wood and tow for tinder, and it worked exceptionally well. Lunch of hot gunpowder tea, homemade bread toasted on a stick, homemade corned venison, also toasted on a stick just to warm it, and some cheddar cheese, toasted, melted and browned just a bit... gourmet fare.

An hour after lunch was spent just watching the fire and thinking, about this, that, and the other, all important stuff. From where I sat on a cedar log, I could see where two deer taken with my smoothbore had fallen, and those memories started me thinking about life, death and other non-trivial concepts. You know, "What's it all about, Alphie?"

I then loaded my 20 gauge Jackie Brown Carolina smoothbore, my constant companion on all these outings, with shot for some rabbit hunting, doused the fire, collected all my gear and set off to find my supper. Three hours later I was still looking, but was not in the least disappointed. Few things, damned few things, please me as much as strolling around looking for rabbits in good cover while dressed in clothes I made and carrying a flintlock shotgun. After more than 10 years of this kind of abuse, my clothes, moccasins, leggings, breeches, etc., are still sturdy and sound, showing wear, but still more than serviceable. Much like myself.

I finally did bounce a rabbit which I could get off a shot at and rolled it cleanly at 30 yards, hoo boy, hoo boy, I'm a kid again! I am a simple man, and I like the simple things. I've hunted many things in many places with many guns over the last half century, but nothing will ever be better than beating a flushing bunny to the draw and rolling it with a flintlock smoothbore. I cleaned the rabbit, stuffed it in my tin kettle and hung it in a tree to cool while I went off for some roundball shooting. I found a dead tree with a conspicuous white mark and shot at it for the next hour, trying patched ball and unpatched, offhand and from a rest, 25 and 40 yards. The gun functioned flawlessly, the shooter didn't do badly, and the tree died again, several times.

Threw the tomahawk a few times, cleaned my gun using a gun worm, tow and water from the stream, then headed back toward town. It's good to practice the skills from time to time, and to remind myself how very important this little game we play has become to me.

That outing was so much fun, I decided to repeat a few days later. I had been hoping for some colder weather, because I wanted to test out some winter gear I had made but which had seen very little use. The next day's high was predicted to be 25F and with little wind, which seemed tailor made. My old bones don't tolerate a cold wind like they used to.

I added some longjohns to my outfit, but the only other significant change was that I wore a pair of moose hide shoe pacs I had made a couple of years ago. They have two soles of thick leather, they are worn with wool liners which have three soles, and they are large enough for a couple of pairs of wool socks inside, so they should be better than my summer elk hide moccasins which are single layer and have room for only one pair of wool socks. I tried putting the lower ends of my buckskin leggings inside the liners, then tying the tops of both the liners and the pacs over them, and that worked very well. I then tied on wool leg wraps up to the knees, and my legs and feet were ready for some cold.

I arrived early, while the temperature was still below 20F, and saw right away that my gear would be just fine. Once again I hiked for an hour, just soaking in all the sights, sounds and sensations, becoming part of the scene. I decided to go to the back of the farm, this time, where the boundary stream and woods make it seem less like a farm, more like the colonial woods. The ground was frozen hard all day, and was crunching and popping with every step. The shoe pacs were great, my feet never felt even cool.

On a little plateau in the woods there is a grove of cedars which create an open area in the woods, and it has always been one of my favorite spots to camp. I chose it again, today. I've slept many a night in that grove, but my old bones don't fit the ground very well, these days, especially the cold ground. I was not unhappy this was a day trip.

Collecting some small wood, I set about building a fire. I had no plans to cook on this trip, but I dearly love something hot to drink in such situations, and I never miss an opportunity to practice my primitive fire-building skills. Today I elected to use the lock on my smoothbore, since the sun wasn't bright enough for the burning glass. I didn't plug the touch-hole, but made certain the char cloth covered and blocked it completely as I dropped the cock. The gun didn't fire, never has. Good spark and a glowing spot on the cloth first try, and I nestled it inside a ball of shredded cedar bark and flax tow I had prepared, held it up to keep the smoke out of my eyes and blew it into flame easily. In short order my noon drink, Mexican chocolate sweetened with maple sugar, was brewing. I sat and tended it, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the inner glow of accomplishment. Warmed me twice, or three times if you count the chocolate.

I've been thinking of getting a matchcoat, so I had brought along an old blanket cut to proper size, just to give it a try, see what the advantages and problems might be, see if it would fit into my gear. I stayed so warm without it that I never broke it out. That is a perfectly good excuse for another outing, don't you agree?

A session of tomahawk throwing, a stroll along the creek just shooting at stumps and such, collecting a few black walnuts and cracking them to find two or three worth eating, trailing a large buck that had walked through the mud before it froze, sitting on a streamside rock listening to the music of rushing water... as I said before, disconnected. I sat by the fire as the western sky turned a brilliant orange and the temperature dropped along with the sun, as snug as could be in my homemade winter garb and as happy as If I had good sense. I like spending time alone. I can do it for days at a time. It recharges my mental batteries, soothes the savage breast, and done like this it is a damned fine way to spend a cold January day.

So, trekking is indeed simple, as I do it. The physical act of it, that is. When I analyse it a bit deeper, though, it seems more complex. Sitting there dreaming the fire, I was aware of all the gear I had made, skills I had learned, history I had absorbed, colonial lifestyles I had studied and "experienced". Without all that, I wouldn't be here in the woods today, trekking. I have put a lot into it, but I've received far more in return. No, it doesn't seem simple in all ways. It seems very good, though. Nothing I've ever experienced does such an excellent job of disconnecting me from the parts of the modern world I admire so very little. If I could package and sell it, I'd be a rich man. I can't, of course, because the magic only really happens inside your head, but I believe that makes me wealthier still. Out there trekking, I feel not the least bit out of place in the world, because the world is all mine.

Copyright © B. E. Spencer 2003 All rights reserved.

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Code: trk01 bs01

Black Powder Shotgun Basics by Bob Spencer

This post first appeared on Dec 9, 2020

Pedersoli Double Barrel Flintlock Shotgun. Read more about it here.

In Pteryplegia: Or, The Art of Shooting Flying, a poem written in 1727, A. B. Markland said, in part:

To ram the Powder well, but not the Ball;
One Third the well-turned Shot superior Must
Arise, and overcome the nitrous Dust,
Which, dry'd and season'd in the Oven's Heat,
Has stood in close-mouthed Jarr the dampless Night.
Now search for Tow, and some old saddle pierce:
No Wadding lies so close or drives so fierce.
And here be mindful constantly to Arm
With Choice of Flints, a Turn-Screw and a Worm;
The accidental Chances of the Field
Will for such Implements Occasion yield.
When you mention black powder shooting, most people assume you are speaking of black powder rifles, maybe black powder pistols, but rarely black powder shotguns. The rifles get all the glory, and shotguns are relegated to the background. That's too bad, because a more versatile and enjoyable black powder gun doesn't exist than the shotgun.

Fusils, northwest trade guns, fowling pieces, even muskets can all be thought of as forms of the shotgun, although the gun we normally give that name is a fairly late arrival on the scene, somewhere in the second or third quarter of the 19th century. The typical form of that gun was a side-by-side double barrel percussion shotgun, and from it evolved, directly, the modern shotgun.

Regardless of the name, and whether flintlock or percussion ignition, all those guns have certain things in common, and the care and feeding, shooting and cleaning of them all can be considered as one topic.

One Third the well-turned Shot superior Must Arise, and overcome the nitrous Dust,

Load development for the shotgun is, overall, easier than for a rifle shooting a patched ball, but attention to some principles will yield better results. Here, the versatility of the shotgun is evident, because every shot is essentially a custom handloaded one, the only difference being that it is done in the barrel, not in a shotgun shell.

First, the powder used should, generally, be of a coarser grade than for other black powder guns. Experience shows that the slower ignition and lower peak pressures of the coarse powders give more even and consistent patterns in most guns. Thus, FFg is considered best for 28, 24 and 20 gauge, and most people include 12 gauge in this group. In 11 and 10 gauge, Fg will give good results. FFFg powder can be used in the smaller gauges, but most experienced shooters feel the rapid, high pressures generated tend to 'blow' the pattern.

Second, the amount of powder needs to be balanced against the amount of shot being used. The sport of black powder shooting is rife with 'rules of thumb', many of which turn out to be not at all useful, but one used in black powder shotgunning has stood the test, and works very well in most shotguns. That rule is: Use the same volume of powder and shot. That is easily accomplished by using the same measure to load both shot and powder. A good way to approach this is to decide upon the amount of shot needed, say 1 1/8 oz. for rabbit hunting, set the measure for that, and use it also for the powder. If the game is passing ducks, maybe you want to increase the load to 1 1/2 oz. of shot. If so, apply the same method, and good patterns will result with that combination.

It is generally true that any change in ratio from equal volume loading will affect the pattern, and that can be used to custom tailor loads for different circumstances. Shooting more powder than shot will, in most guns, tend to open the pattern a bit, and if that doesn't create too many 'holes' in it, can be used to mimic the effect of less choke. Conversely, using less powder than shot, by volume, will tend to tighten the pattern, make it more dense. As is obvious from Mr. Markland's poem, this principle was understood even by the very early 18th-century wing shot....One Third the well-turned Shot superior Must Arise, and overcome the nitrous Dust...or, as much as 1/3 more shot than powder, by volume.

Now search for Tow, and some old saddle pierce: No Wadding lies so close or drives so fierce.

Once the type and amount of powder and shot are decided upon, the shotgun load can be constructed. First, the powder is put down. Then, some form of wad is used over the powder, to keep the flame of the igniting powder from invading the column of shot as it moves up the barrel. This would not only disrupt the column by blowing hot gases through it, but could melt/deform the individual shot, causing them to sail wide once they escape the muzzle. The standard over-powder wad used by most is simply dense cardboard, 1/8 inch thick. For many decades it has been thought by some that a soft cushion wad should go down next, the idea being that some of the shock of the igniting powder would be absorbed by that soft wad, thus protecting the shot. These cushion wads are available in two basic forms, a harder, more dense 'fiber' wad, and a softer 'paper felt' wad. Both are about 1/2 inch thick. Once these are down, the shot is dropped, and then an over-shot wad, usually 1/16 inch cardboard, is put in last, simply to keep the shot from rolling out of the barrel.

The late Mr. V. M. Starr, the shotgun guru from Eden, South Dakota, stated that he saw no use for cushion wads, at all. He cut his own wads from 3/32 inch poster board, and simply loaded two over the powder, one over the shot. This method works well in most guns, and the choice as to which wads will be used must be left to the individual shooter.

Lubrication of the cushion wad will allow unlimited shooting with little or no need for cleaning between shots. Either fiber or paper felt cushion wads can be lubricated prior to the shoot by submerging them for a moment in melted solid Crisco shortening, with good results. Anything to soften the fouling at the breech will allow it to be scraped off by the over-powder card wad as it is rammed down, essentially cleaning the barrel each time. Many shooters of trap or skeet use simply water and a little detergent, or some form of Moose Milk, which is water plus water-soluble oil.

Once again Mr. Markland shows his understanding of the problem, when he says....To ram the Powder well, but not the Ball...., because hard ramming or pounding of the shot column once the shot has been added will deform the shot, causing them to sail and damage the pattern.

The end result of building the load in this way is a very efficient, hard shooting round. The velocities of black powder loads are on average about 100 fps-200 fps less than that of modern shotshells, but that difference is not enough to prevent the clean taking of game or consistent breaking of clay birds. In order to minimize the difference, a few things can, and should be practiced.

Set a shorter range limit, about 5-10 yards shorter, depending upon the gun. This will in effect tighten the pattern, since there's less time for the shot to scatter, and more shot will strike the target. It will also mean that more energy is retained by the shot, since it will have slowed less....and energy is equal to weight X velocity.

Use one shot size larger than you would normally use with a modern shotgun in the same situation. The larger shot will retain energy better out to game range. This will, of course, mean fewer shot, but in most situations will not be a telling factor.

Use some type of 'shot cup'. For those longer shots, this can work well. A frequent technique is simply to use plastic shot cups manufactured for shot shells, but cut off the cushioning column, leaving only the cup. There are some disadvantages to this; one, that there are no cups made which will completely hold a heavy load of shot, and; two, that the shot cups are too small in diameter. This latter is true because they are manufactured to fit inside a shot shell, not the barrel directly. To avoid problems caused by this mismatch of size, always use a good over-powder wad.

Use a choked gun. Since the beginning of 'shooting flying', shotgunners have always wanted to take game at greater ranges than their guns would allow. As early as 1781 the idea of extending the range and concentrating the shot on the center of the target by changing the shape of the bore of the barrel had been hit upon. The idea was worked on by many people for almost a hundred years before success was achieved. A patent for a choke-bored barrel was granted to one Roper, an American, in 1866, but his choke never proved practical. It remained for W. W. Greener, the famous British gun developer, to work out the tools and a practical method of choking, and his first guns with this configuration were not developed until 1874.

Any accurate replica of a shotgun using flintlock ignition will be a cylinder bore, as will any percussion replica of guns up to 1874. A variety of chokes are offered in our modern replicas, and each must decide if they are for him. Standard modern chokes of Improved Cylinder (IC) and Modified (Mod) are available in modern black powder shotguns, and these can be used with little difficulty. Full Choke (Full) guns are also available for special situations, as in turkey hunting or trap shooting. These chokes are available as fixed configurations, that is, ground in, or as replaceable choke tubes, screw-in type. Full choke guns of either type can be a problem to load, since the wads are larger than the choke, will be difficult to push past it, and may be deformed in passing through it, with possible detrimental effects on the pattern. Other than this, choked black powder shotguns achieve the same improvement in range and pattern density as modern shotguns, just not quite so much, because of the inherently lower velocities.

A special type of choke, the 'jug' choke, can be done to cylinder bore barrels, and this is a very efficient choke. It consists of a precisely shaped widening of a short section of the bore just behind the muzzle, achieved by removing metal. Since the smallest diameter of the cylinder bore is not decreased, but only increased in that one area, no difficulty is encountered in ramming wads down, yet the gun will shoot with the best of the modern chokes. This is a custom gunsmithing job, and has never been offered on any commercial replica.

With all the above factors in mind, the gun needs to be patterned, fired to check the density and evenness of the shot at target range. As with any black powder gun, any component in the load can affect the results in a good or bad way, and many combinations should be tried until the optimum load is discovered. Since the gun may be used in several different situations, each calling for different performance, most shooters will want to develop an optimum load for each. A load for quail over dogs will be quite different than one for pass shooting doves.

Anyone with much experience shooting modern shotguns has been gently brainwashed into thinking that choke is a great thing, and that there cannot be too much power. As a result, converts to black powder shotgunning often feel there is a significant disadvantage to shooting the guns. This is not true. In most small game situations, an open choke and light to moderate loads will prove more than adequate for the job. Many a man has found the old black powder scatter gun to be just the ticket for most of his hunting needs.

And here be mindful constantly to Arm With Choice of Flints, a Turn-Screw and a Worm;

Very good advice, even today, especially for the flintlock shotgun shooter. Regardless of ignition, though, that worm is a handy thing to have in your pouch while afield with the black powder shotgun. A jag is a poor tool for cleaning the smoothbore barrel, but a worm does it very well. A piece of cloth pierced and twisted on a worm will reach the recesses of the breech much better, and will not get stuck, as a jag is very likely to do. Another handy tool is a ball-pulling screw, one of those with a brass collar to prevent it touching the bore. This can be used to easily screw into wads and remove them, in case the occasion arises to pull a load.

Which, dry'd and season'd in the Oven's Heat, Has stood in close-mouthed Jarr the dampless Night.

Surely no one would put his powder in the oven, today. There are a few safety items that need to be mentioned in relation to black powder shotguns, though, items not encountered with other types of guns. Double barrel...a wonderful configuration, handy for that quick second shot, or for loading each barrel in a different way. Having two barrels creates two potential dangers, though. First, when you have shot one barrel and must reload it before you shoot the second, ALWAYS uncap that loaded barrel first, if shooting percussion, or open the frizzen and dump the prime if shooting flintlock. Obvious, but easy to forget. Second, when you shoot the same barrel repeatedly, it is possible for the recoil to cause the shot column in the unfired barrel to move forward a bit. As with any other muzzle loading gun, it's critical that the entire charge be rammed against the breech. An easy problem to solve...every 3rd or 4th time you reload, slip the ramrod down that unfired barrel and make certain it's still well seated.

Another aspect of the versatility of the shotgun is its ability to shoot solid projectiles, roundball, instead of shot. This is easily worked out by simply substituting a patched round ball for the shot and leaving out the over-shot wad. Everything else stays the same....powder, card wad, cushion wad, then a tightly fitting lubricated patched roundball. An ounce of any lead shot weighs 437.5 grains, and we shoot up to 1 1/2 ounce of it, 656 gr., in the larger gauges. A typical Brown Bess musket of .75 caliber is an 11 gauge. A roundball to fit it will weigh 625 gr., so although that roundball seems heavier, it is actually lighter, and can be quite safely shot with moderate to heavy powder charges in a strong gun. A roundball for any given gauge will weigh less than the maximum charge of shot for that gauge. Any shotgun, single or double barrel, which puts the center of its charge of shot right where the bead is pointing will shoot groups acceptable for large game out to about 50 yards, 75 yards with practice. At first consideration, one would think that having no rear sight would be a severe disadvantage, but it isn't so. A well fitting shotgun will cause you to point naturally at the target, with your eye and head position serving well as a rear sight, and the groups will surprise and please you.

The black powder shotgun gets little of the attention of the average black powder shooter, and that's regrettable. For a versatile, enjoyable, efficient and reliable companion in the field or on the range, it's hard to beat.

©1997 B. E. Spencer

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