CHAPTER XXXVII.
ON USING THE SHOT-GUN.
Born Shooters.—Every man who uses a gun at all will feel an ambition to use it skillfully, and when he finds himself falling short of his aspirations he will apply to his gunsmith for instructions, for the gunsmith is expected to set the owner all right as well as his gun. There will be some difference in results to the gunsmith, however, for when the gun gets out of fix, and the gunsmith repairs the imperfections, the owner expects to pay for services rendered, but not so with reference to himself. He will expect the gunsmith to spend an hour or so in telling him how to shoot, but it will not occur to him that time is worth the same in dollars and cents spend it as we may, hence he will never think of tendering the slightest remuneration for the time consumed in giving him instructions. We have often thought that a chapter in some book telling about all there is to tell the novice on the subject of shooting would be worth a great deal to the gunsmith, as he could turn it over to his inquiring customers and go on about his work, leaving them to sift out from the “black and white” the information desired, taking their own time for it, and digesting everything in accordance with their own notions. And right here, it may be remarked, is a proper place to put in just such a chapter, which is done without further preface.
Some popular writer has said that, like the poet, the first-class shot with a gun, or the “dead shot,” as he is often called, must be born such—he cannot be made. Good shooting is a fine art, and in none of the fine arts can perfection be acquired where there does not exist a natural talent, or natural capacity, if the term be better. Any man with fair calculation and a reasonably good mechanical eye may, by practice, become a very passable shot, but without this peculiar natural requirement, which no one can clearly explain, it will be impossible for him to ever excel as an expert marksman.
It is not often that a real born shot is met with—they are about as scarce as true poets and true painters. When one does meet with him one soon knows him, if there is any shooting going on. Perhaps he is at his first shooting match. He does not know himself as a “shootist,” possibly. Curiosity alone, it may be, prompts him to try a shot, so he takes the gun, and wholly without study or previous experience, blazes away, and, to the astonishment of all present, shoots almost to perfection. It is in him as a gift. Some peculiar balance in his organization is the cause of it, and it is folly to be envious even in the least degree. Nor is it worth while to despair because such a peculiar balance of organization did not happen to fall to “our” lot. If there be a wish to succeed, a little patient study, industry and practice may soon bring the “shootist” up to the average at least, and that will leave no reasonable cause for complaint.
How to Shoot.—This part of the subject need not be brought down to the simple operation of merely discharging a gun, for it is supposed that every person with common sense, and old enough to handle a gun would know how to discharge it when loaded. What is meant, then, by “how to shoot,” is how to shoot well, and to enable any one to do this, one of the most important requisites lies in taking aim on the object at which is expected to be shot. Most young gunners close one eye in this operation, which, according to the best authorities, is entirely wrong. A man will learn to take correct aim with a shot-gun much sooner by keeping both eyes naturally open than he will by holding one closed. Once got in the habit of shooting with a closed eye, it will be found a most difficult habit to break up—the “hiding eye” will “close up” just as the finger is being pressed upon the trigger. And with that “closing up” is very apt to come a deviation of the gun from the line of correct aim.
Some years ago Mr. Dougall, in his “Shooting Simplified,” advanced many strong arguments in favor of shooting with both eyes open, basing them upon correct science. He says the person who takes aim with one eye closed has robbed himself of half his vision. The single open eye cannot see the whole of the object at which it looks, but only a part, or one side of it. Then, it requires the use of both eyes to see and calculate distance correctly. One eye may outline a thing, but it calls for the employment of two eyes to give it a perfect perspective.
When an object is hastily caught within the range of both eyes, the sense of vision is instantly assured as to position of the object, its distance from the gun, and, if moving, the rate of speed at which it is going. By a mental operation the brain is promptly impressed with all this, giving confidence and, consequently, calmness. Here the main point favoring success has been attained—calmness and a strong belief that the shot is going to succeed. The moment when this is felt is the one in which to press upon the trigger. It means that a correct sight is secured, whether there be time to think about it or not, and hence an instantaneous discharge of the gun is almost sure to bring down the game.
Since beginning to write this book one of the authors interviewed a wonderfully successful sportsman with reference to his mode of taking aim at birds on the wing. “Why, bless your soul!” said he, “I never take aim at all. I throw my gun in range of the bird, look at the bird with both eyes open, and the moment a feeling comes over me that I shall kill the bird if I shoot, I pull the trigger, and it’s about always my bird.” So it is. But this expert is evidently mistaken with reference to taking aim: he takes aim mechanically. He thinks only about killing the bird, without thinking about taking aim, and in response to the securing of a perfect aim comes the feeling, unexplained in his thoughts, that if he shoots he shall kill the bird. It is simply a powerful concentration of thought, which is always of paramount importance in shooting. A mind scattering over all creation at the time of shooting is no more to be depended upon for good results than a gun scattering to all sides of a ten-acre field. There must be concentration in both cases. A man cannot buy goods, grow crops, swap horses, make poetry, edit a newspaper and kill birds on the wing with unvarying success all at the same instant.
Brewster on the Use of Two Eyes.—As the novice who has not devoted much thought to the subject of shooting, will be apt to feel some surprise at the idea of the use of both eyes being recommended in taking aim, the liberty will be assumed of quoting a paragraph from the writings of Sir David Brewster, offering it as evidence in substantiation of the foregoing position. In his able work on the Stereoscope he says: “When we look with both eyes open at a sphere, or any other solid object, we see it by uniting into one two pictures—one as seen by the right, and the other as seen by the left eye. If we hold up a thin book perpendicularly, and midway between both eyes, we see distinctly the back of it and both sides with the eyes open. When we shut the right eye, we see with the left eye the back of the book and the left side of it; and when we shut the left eye, we see with the right eye the back of it and the right side. The picture of the book, therefore, which we see with both eyes, consists of two dissimilar pictures united, namely, a picture of the back and left side of the book as seen by the left eye, and a picture of the back and right side of the book as seen by the right eye.”