ANY of my shotgun stories have graced these pages over the past 35 years – tales of wonderful outings in pursuit of the feathered game found in the East Cape and of the different shotguns I used. The challenge of shooting a moving airborne target turned me into a dedicated shotgun man long before I owned a hunting rifle. In time I became a pretty good shot, but I will admit the beginning was slow and disappointing, and many a day ended with a light game bag and a heavy heart. I now realise that back in those days when I was young and dumb, I wasted ammo blazing away at birds that were hopelessly out of range. Eventually I began reading books on the art of shot gunning and learned to take note of the angle at which the bird was flying and to perfect the
