Rick wrote:In our family it was an octagon-barreled lever action Marlin .22 that went to my uncle Gifford, aka: Robert after he got his PhD. He's passed now, too, so I hope his son has it.
Cute, at least to me, hillbilly story about Giff. Went to work for Anheuser-Busch trying to feed the world on yeast, which didn't work out, so on to their Eagle Brand snack stuff for a while. Lived in an affluent suburb and kept a springer spaniel kenneled in the yard, where it barked at squirrels. So he bought a live trap thinking he'd transplant them to the country, but being a WVa country boy raised on them, just couldn't bear to let them go. Eventually became the neighborhood nuisance squirrel trapper, "releasing" all they could eat.
We used a.22 for the pigs. The .22 hornet was for the steers. I don't know where the .22 end up, but the hornet was his favorite.
My grandfather could really shoot. As told to me, you want to hit them right in the spine when you are shooting them while someone else is holding the spotlight
Drops them on the spot. You don't want to track a deer in the dark after you poached it. 
One guy goes and gets the deer while the others take off. That guy drags the deer up to the road and hides and waits until the others come back later when they feel like it is all clear. From what I gather, my grandfather fed quite a lot of people that way.
