In 1953, when I was 11, I got my first shotgun, a Stevens 410, bolt action, clip fed. My first real hunt was a Sunday Fox Hunt where 20 or so hunters would get together and station even numbers of hunters on each side of an Iowa square mile section. Then the hunters would walk in rows toward the center of the section, hoping to flush out a fox. All used shotguns. To my surprise and amazement, a fox ran down a hedge row straight toward me. I shot when I thought I should and the fox rolled over a few times and with head up just looked at me. I later found that I had broken three of his legs with the shot, a trick I will probably never duplicate. That day brought my only jackrabbit, too. I was amazed that the fox and jackrabbit were similar in size. I still have the gun.

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