I WAS immensely pleased to be sharing a campfire with my old friend David Westerhout of Zimbabwe, a lifelong hunter and once world-champion Practical Pistol shooter. Dave was born and educated in England, but settled in Rhodesia as a young man, where he continued to pursue his passion for hunting and shooting. He always has interesting tales to tell, and is great fun at a fireside.
“Still a teetotaller, Dave?” I asked. “Fraid so, old chap” he grinned apologetically. “There’s a kettle on the grid over there,” I pointed. to pack.” Faintly flaring his nostrils, he dangled a teabag disdainfully between thumb and forefinger. “Hmmn-yeahss…” was his wry remark. Smiling, I asked, “Mind sitting on my right? It’s my good ear. When I was thirteen, a pal fired a miniature cannon twelve inches from my left ear – never been the same since.” “Funny you should mention that,” said Dave brightly, “I was about to tell you how much I enjoyed the recent article, Lilliputian Naval Guns. It reminded me of an amusing incident back in England.” “Do tell,” I invited.
