We all attributed it to the ghost of my late father-in-law supplying one last grouse for the camp dinner. Brought my mother-in-law (who'd been fishing with us) to tears.
Ha.
Funny you should mention that. The rifle in the story was inherited by the young fellow who now owns it and apparently he has about zero mechanical aptitude. He put a different scope on it. My assigned task was to make it shoot. I had some success. Neighbor commented.. "Uncle Larry sent you a bird for your efforts". Of course I don't believe in such stuff... do I?
