Bigger, Badder, Best?

Better Bullets, Better Shot And Better
Shooting All Raw Power In The Gamefield
0
; .

Even smaller gauges work on tough pheasants with hard shot. Eileen Clarke
uses her Hatfield 28-gauge early in the season—when roosters rise closer—
but switches to a Beretta 20-gauge later on, when longer shots are more common.

Let’s call him Bud, an inoffensive nickname for somebody who might not want his identity revealed. Bud grew up west of the Continental Divide in Montana, essentially part of the Pacific Northwest, where moisture from the Pacific grows lots of big trees. His family lived in a house built in a logged-over clearing on the edge of a tiny logging town. Fifty to 75 yards of lawn ran from the back of the house to the edge of the clearing, and deer and elk occasionally emerged from the trees to feed.

Bud’s father prepared for such eventualities by putting a gun rack above the back door to hold a .257 Roberts, built on a Mauser action he’d liberated from Germany during World War II. The magazine was always loaded and while many people think the .257 Roberts is too light for elk, the Mauser accounted for several with no problem.

Montana kids could legally buy big game licenses and start hunting at age 12. As Bud approached the deadline, other adolescent males claimed nothing less than a .300 magnum was truly adequate for elk. Bud scrimped together some money from odd jobs and bought a .308 Norma Magnum, but he eventually grew puzzled because often several 180-grain bullets were required to kill deer, let alone elk.

;
.

Mauled By A Magnum

I met Bud through some mutual friends after he enrolled at the University of Montana in Missoula. We all hunted together a few times each fall, and I not only heard tales of deer refusing to drop to the .308 Norma but, during an opening-day duck hunt, I discovered Bud had a hard time dropping blue wing teal with a 12-gauge magnum. Lead shot was still legal for waterfowl hunting, and Bud mentioned he added extra powder to give the No. 2-shot in his handloads a little help. Essentially, he was using what most people considered a good load for long-range Canada geese. Meanwhile, I killed a limit of ducks from teal to mallards with No. 6 shot from a 20-gauge.

Part of Bud’s problem, of course, was terrible shooting due to flinching. It’s hard enough for most kids to overcome the excitement of actually going hunting without getting bounced around by the recoil of a .308 Norma Magnum or 3-inch 12-gauge. But like many bad shots, Bud believed the solution was bigger projectiles at faster speeds.

Eventually I moved away from Missoula, but 25 years later started hunting with the same bunch of buddies again, including Bud. One of those other friends told me about taking Bud on his first pronghorn hunt on eastern Montana. By then Bud knew enough to bring the family .257 Roberts rather than the .308 Norma, assuming the .257 was correctly sighted-in after taking so many backyard animals.

But an elk at 50 yards is different from a pronghorn at 250, and it turned out the .257 was “sighted-in” a few inches off at 50. Bud missed several antelope before our friend could persuade him to shoot at a cardboard box and adjust the scope. Even merely “adequate” power doesn’t work unless the rifle’s sighted-in.

Many hunters have known somebody like Bud, who’s hunted since they were a kid so “know” too many things, including that more power equals quicker kills. But 20 years ago, I met a guy who’d never hunted, yet came to the same conclusion.

;
.

The .257 Roberts works very well when sighted-in with deep-penetrating bullets.
Eileen Clarke used her New Ultra Light Arms .257 with Barnes Triple Shocks and
Nosler Partitions on game, from antelope to elk.

The Right Spot

Several gun writers from various parts of the country had been invited to Argentina by a major American ammunition company to test some new “non-toxic” shotshells. We gathered one afternoon at the Miami airport, where we’d leave that evening for Buenos Aires, along with a pair of company public-relations guys. After dinner, the ballistician who’d developed the ammo explained that killing flying birds with shotguns is purely a matter of applied foot-pounds of energy, the reason the loads we’d test contained a relatively small amount of relatively large, extra-dense, super-hard shot. (The other reason for the large shot was the new shot couldn’t be manufactured in small sizes.)

Among the other writers was Bob Brister, one of the foremost shotgunning experts of his generation. Bob had not only won many major shotgunning competitions, but had done more research on how shotguns slay gamebirds than any previous author. When the non-hunting ballistician explained how foot-pounds were the only necessary ingredient for killing flying ducks, Bob glanced my way and raised an eyebrow.

Due to Argentina’s generous limits, we were able to absolutely prove, once again, how even “magic shot” doesn’t drop ducks very well without enough pellets to ensure at least one of them penetrates the vitals. Bob could have told the ammunition company that before we made the trip, but the ammo had already been shipped to South America and showing is always better than telling. I don’t know what happened to the ammo company’s ballistic expert, because the public-relations guys never mentioned his name again.

;
.

Many hunters believe smaller-gauge shotguns only work on smaller
birds like doves. They do because they hold sufficient small shot for a
dense pattern—but also work with medium-sized shot on larger birds
because more shot hits larger birds.

The 10-gauge works for longer shots at larger waterfowl, not because
it’s more “powerful” than small gauges but because it holds enough large
shot to provide both a dense pattern and sufficient penetration.

Premium Projectiles

The truth about hunting ammunition, whether rifle or shotgun, is that extra power is fine—as long as it hits the right spot and penetrates the vitals. I am not a small-bore, large-bore or medium-bore fanatic, having used plenty of all three over the years. But I am a fan of good projectiles.

Aside from poor placement, one problem with Bud’s .308 Norma Magnum was the bullets he handloaded. Many shooters call these “cup and core,” with relatively thin jackets swaged around a lead core. Such bullets have tendency to come apart when they hit big game at close range, especially when started at more than 2,700 to 2,800 fps. Because of the thick forest where Bud grew up, he’d never ever shot at a big game animal much farther than 100 yards away before going on the antelope hunt in the wide-open spaces of eastern Montana.

Of course, he handloaded his .308 Norma ammo much faster than 2,800 fps, because after all more power is obviously better—but aside from poor placement, the cheap 180-grain bullets from Bud’s magnum didn’t penetrate very deeply. (The .257 ammo used in the family Mauser was the old Remington factory load with a 117-grain RN at only 2,650 fps, and due to the modest velocity it penetrated elk fine at close range.)

The same thing can happen with cheap shotshells, because cheap shot is made of almost pure lead, untainted with expensive antimony to harden it. Pure lead shot is relatively soft, so often flattens and deforms when it hits birds. Spherical projectiles also don’t have much weight compared to their frontal area, so penetrate less than elongated bullets. In technical terms, this is called a lack of “sectional density,” but when soft shot flattens out it penetrates even less.

;
.

John’s not a small-bore fanatic, having used plenty of larger cartridges
on smaller game such as this impala taken with a 300-grain Nosler Partition
from a .375 H&H. But even with “excess” power, the bullet still has to hit the right spot.

Patterns and Power

Bud, of course, handloaded cheap, soft shot, and when his ammo didn’t kill very well he assumed more power would solve the problem, so added more powder. This resulted in higher pressure, which in shotguns results in more deformation of soft shot even before it leaves the muzzle, both due to being squashed inside the long, heavy shot-charge and some pellets scraping against the bore.

Bud’s 12-gauge also had a full choke, because he also “knew” a tight choke killed ducks deader. The normal pattern from a combination of soft shot at high pressure from a tight choke is a very dense center containing maybe half the shot, with the other half scattered thinly around the edges. Gamebirds can be killed consistently with such a pattern but only with the dense center. Since Bud flinched, he rarely centered birds, but when he did, the result was so convincing he believed the suddenly falling duck proved the worth of his super-loads.
Hard shot doesn’t deform inside a shotgun’s barrel or when it hits a bird, so penetrates deeper. This is true of both high-antimony lead shot or much harder non-toxic shot—as long as there’s sufficient velocity for penetration. But round shot also slows down much quicker than an elongated bullet.

This is exactly why “steel” shot works so well at moderate ranges and not so well at longer ranges. At moderate ranges, steel shot penetrates very well because it’s so hard. In fact, one day in the early years of the lead-shot ban, I was hunting pheasants with a buddy (not named Bud but a similar sort) along a local creek where we might also jump some mallards. My friend didn’t like to eat ducks so he used lead shot, planning to shoot only at pheasants. I like to eat mallards, so I used 3-inch steel-shot loads in my 20-gauge—which my friend thought was way too small a gauge for pheasants. He carried a 12-gauge magnum, of course loaded with cheap shotshells.

By the end of the day he was a little disconcerted, because, unlike Bud, he’d noticed my “little” 20 gauge was absolutely slamming both pheasants and ducks. The reason? Down in the brushy creek bottom ranges were under 30 yards, and the steel shot penetrated very well, even when shooting roosters and greenheads flying directly away. But I sure wouldn’t have used the same load for pass-shooting mallards at 40+ yards.

The new non-toxic shot we tested in Argentina was heavier than lead and harder than steel, but the ballistician was so convinced kinetic energy was “The Answer,” the ammo only contained an ounce of No. 2-shot. Since the pellets weighed more than lead, an ounce contained even fewer pellets than the nominal 100 or so in an ounce of No. 2 lead shot. At 30 yards or less, they worked fine because the pattern was still fairly dense, but one basic rule in wingshooting is a bird must be struck by several pellets to ensure hitting a vital area and/or breaking a wing. Beyond 30 yards, the pattern was so thin ducks would only be hit by one or two pellets. Sometimes they hit vital spots and dropped the duck, more often they didn’t.

;
.

Just because a bullet weighs a lot doesn’t mean it will penetrate deeply. These weighed 250 grains but came apart during a test on dry paper, which resembles hitting heavy bone.

One of the interesting aspects of wingshooting is why so many shooters believe smaller gauges are only good for hunting smaller birds. This is partly true, because smaller shotshells can only hold enough small shot to consistently kill small game birds like dove and quail. But bigger birds take up more airspace and are far more likely to be hit by more pellets—and if medium-sized pellets are hard enough, they’ll penetrate the vitals and break wings. In my experience, high-antimony No. 6 shot penetrates as deeply as soft No. 4, especially when plated with copper or nickel. But the pattern is denser with the No. 6, resulting in more hits. Of course hard, plated shot costs more, but then most states only allow a limit of three rooster pheasants per day anyway.

Non-toxic shot works a little differently. Almost all is relatively hard, but some is even harder than steel and denser than lead. Such denser, harder shot can be used in much smaller sizes and quantities, yet still kill more consistently than steel, somewhat balancing the cost equation.

The same basic principle applies to hunting rifles. I’m quite fond of the .30 caliber 200-grain Nosler Partition for hunting elk, having used it for almost 40 years in various cartridges from the .30-06 to .300 Weatherby, taking more elk than with any other single bullet. But Eileen and I have also used lighter and smaller-caliber bullets on elk and similar-sized game with no problems, especially “monolithic” bullets such as the Barnes Triple-Shock and Nosler E-Tip because they penetrate deeper than typical cup-and-core bullets, even—but not always—Nosler Partitions.

Power is great, but penetration is essential.

;
.

One way to mitigate recoil is by gun weight. This .416 Rigby weighs exactly 10 pounds with a scope.

Heavyweight, Lightweight

More power, correctly placed, can indeed result in cleaner kills of wild birds or big game animals. For certain purposes, I’m a big fan of the 10-gauge and various rifle cartridges from the .300 magnums to the .416 Rigby.

There are several ways to mitigate recoil, including soft recoil pads, but perhaps the most effective is extra gun weight—the reason my 10-gauge weighs 10-1/2 pounds and my .416 Rigby 10 pounds. The weight doesn’t matter much for the type of hunting each gun is used for, because 10 gauges usually aren’t carried around all day after ruffed grouse or pheasants, and .416 Rigbys aren’t packed up mountains to shoot bighorn rams or mule deer.

Instead, 10-gauge shotguns are usually used in waterfowl blinds and .416 rifles when stalking relatively flat parts of Africa for Cape buffalo. Plus, very few hunters cut up Cape buffalo and pack them out on their backs as they do with bighorn sheep or mountain mule deer. Instead, a Toyota Land Cruiser is driven as close as possible, and a bunch of hired help would load the defunct buffalo.

If we do need a lighter firearm for extensive carrying, even some relatively light-recoiling cartridges will work fine when used with deep-penetrating projectiles. My wife, Eileen, and I have slain plenty of close-ranged ruffed grouse as well as rooster pheasants— and even 6-pound sage grouse—out to 40 yards with 28-gauge shotguns.

Subscribe To GUNS Magazine

;
.