Lastly there was always the consciousness that no mistake must be made, since with but four percussion caps it could not be retrieved.
I am sure that I could not have done so well with any other rifle, however modern and accurate it might be.

But to this little Purdey weapon I had been accustomed from my youth, and that, as any marksman will know, means a great deal.

I seemed to know it and it seemed to know me.

It hangs on my wall to this day, although of course I never use it now in our breech-loading era.

Unfortunately, however, a local gunsmith to whom I sent it to have the lock cleaned, re-browned it and scraped and varnished the stock, etc., without authority, making it look almost new again.