Big Daddy, was my grandfather on my mother's side. He was the finest quail shot I have ever seen, with his A.H.Fox 20 gauge double auto ejecter. What I remember about that gun was when you closed it, the case harden top lever would ring like a tuning fork. My Uncle Robbie gave him a beautiful liver spot English Pointer pup, named Pacer. The pup grew up and was a constant companion of Big Daddy. One crisp Fall day Big Daddy called me and said he felt like taking a walk (that meant bird hunting). I packed my Win. Mod 42-.410, coat, shells, etc. in the Jeep and picked up Big Daddy and Pacer.
"Let's get those coveies up out by the cemetery", Bis daddy directed.
We put Pacer out and he began to work! This area was wire grass with scattered small palmetto patches. Pacer trailed into one of patches and didn't come out. Big Daddy said he knew Pacer was on point. As we neared the patch..Big Daddy loaded the 20...ring went the lever and a quail buzzed out..bang!...dead bird. Again Big Daddy loaded the 20...ring went the lever and another quail buzzed out...bang...dead bird! This went on for eleven birds, when finally Big Daddy said, "James. go see what's going on!" I eased up to the patch and peeped over. The stood old Pacer, with his paw over yhr gopher hole he had run the covey, his head pitched up waiting to hear the lever ring, so he knew Big Daddy was ready!!!!!
Will most of this is true...Big Daddy, The gun(my youngest girl has it out in Missouri),and Pacer. If Big Daddy and Pacer could have lived a little longer, I'm sure this story could have happened. What's real strange in the Hammock is just before I hear a clap of thunder...Ring!
Best Regards from The Hammock....James