A Shot

What a Shot:

I think I once related the time I attended a Tactical match near Ballground, Georgia, and watched an old gentleman shoot. He was handling an old single-action revolver, and I listened to two hotshots in their thirties or forties quietly snarling that he shouldn't have been let to participate. He was slow; his reloading was done with fumbling fingers. He was, they said outright, a danger to everyone on the firing line.

Nevertheless, I saw his targets. He shot one ragged hole, and a fine small one for a gentleman handling a .45 caliber weapon. Right in the X ring, every time. I resolved then and there I wanted to shoot like that man, no matter how slow my reloading and aiming might be.

Here is another story of that sort. I'm under the impression that the author is wrong to identify cottonmouths as "water rattlers," as I believe them to be unrelated to rattlers except insofar as both are snakes. A fine story anyway, about a fine gentleman, a fine shot, and a kind, generous man.

Thanks to The Major's Lady, who thought to share the tale with us.