Stan way back in the sixties I went over to Smith Island to visit a distant cousin. After a few days the locals knew who I was and one asked me if I ever heard a big marsh gun holler, his words. Thinking he meant a big ten I responded by telling him I had shot my grandfathers ten once and found it awesome. Awesome is such a great word when you are growing up. He laughed and called it a pop gun. His gun was much bigger he said. Awesome I thought.
My cousin let him know that we'd go with him if he would let us. So we were going to go that night. Near dark the Feds came onto the island so no joy. Two nights later he took me and I watched him harvest more ducks with his big gun than I killed most months or years.
His big gun was a punt gun with about a three inch bore. He loaded it with a small bag of black powder, wadding and a paper bag of Lawrence lead shot. I'd guess six ounces or more. He said It would misfire once in a while but it went off perfectly that night. An hour later we had picked up all the ducks and were loaded again. Second shot killed another bunch of ducks but not as many.
We spent half the morning dropping off a pair of ducks here and a single there so that it seemed like I had met every old couple and every widow on the island. None were sold or went to waste for that matter. I was told that his punt gun was lost overboard a few years later but I highly doubt that. Most likely he hid it well so the Feds could not find it and started the rumor himself. He's been dead 40 years and my cousin nearly as long. But what I would give to hear a big gun in the marsh again.
