The .410
An Old Bird Hunter’s Two-Cents.
Toting a “stacked-barreled” 20 gauge, this young lad practices for the up-coming turkey season.
“Who’s up first?” requested the young game officer. The state game department was orchestrating a youth upland put-and-take hunting experience on facilities graciously donated by a private hunting preserve. An excited youngster stepped forward with his gun before him; muzzle appropriately pointing straight up. The gun was a rustic, bolt-action, beast in the diminuative .410 caliber. Perhaps, noticing my stare before I redirected my gaze toward the top of my boots - “It was my grandfather’s,” the boy’s father proudly proclaimed.
Okay, the kids were only allowed to chamber a single round once one of my setters had locked onto scent; leveling the field of play as compared to the more typical upland actions other kids were using. Much sooner than later, the opportunity to put the relic to use had arrived.
Dog and hidden bird each holding their position, the officer and child combined - with a little input from the father - to chamber the small 2 1/2 inch skeet round. Next, came the working of the rather cumbersome, spring-loaded, safety apparatus at the back of the bolt. Again, father stepped-up to provide working instructions.
During these last stages of preparation, the rooster pheasant had become characteristically impatient and, vocaling its displeasure, launched from the tall dry grass! Each turn was defined as a bird found and flushed; the ability to “shoot” at an escaping pheasant was not the determining factor. The scene was replayed twice more, each ending without a shot fired. By the end of the event, a very frustrated youngster sat receiving consoling words from well-meaning parents.
“Sure, it was a .410 but it wasn’t the caliber that presented the issue,” you say? Of course, that is true. The problem wasn’t the caliber - .410 being a caliber, not a “gauge” like other shot spraying firearms - there was an entire series of, what I’d deem as, bad decisions. Briefly touching on the obvious, I will morph the discussion toward the use of a .410 as it relates to birds in flight.
20 ga. vs .410 cal. -
Each loaded with #7 1/2 shot, the standard 20 ga. (2 3/4” - yellow), offers about 65 more pellets (30% increase) over the largest .410 shell (3” - red).
The opportunity was there; Idaho’s Department of Fish & Game offered free use of pump-action 20 gauges and ammunition to any child that needed one. As I mentioned, the bolt-action was not the huge disadvantage it would have been normally due to the restriction of using a single chambered round. The issue here was the firearm’s mechanism. Just a step-above loading from the muzzle, the gun’s confusing and combersome catch was too much for the child to operate without help. The presumed effort to quell the boy’s consern for a gun’s recoil added time-consuming steps that greatly reduced the youngster’s abiltiy to put the gun to use.
“Four-ten ammunition was hard to find,” was the father’s lament as the hunt began. Certainly, availability and expense are additional issues to be overcome. However, even if a rooster was dizzied to the point of unconsciousness and the “forty-two step” loading process completed, the tiny round sent off toward a pheasant in flight has about the the same chance of successfully dropping a bird as the kid winning the state lottery. Allowing that making a clean kill wasn’t even the goal, a four-ten skeet round, in the hands of a first-time shooter, barely had a chance of cutting a feather. A sling shot would have been more lethal!
Older son, Makary, and Gordon setter, Roc, with a nice wild rooster, (above). Below, the same shotgun was used by his little sister, Jordan. They used the cut-down Mossberg twelve-gauge - with lighter reloads - as soon as they could wield it!
“Where is this going,” you ask? Well, some of this is going to sound hypocritical but there’s historical, and demonstratable, support for the following.
“Hypocritical,” because my first shotgun was a .410 caliber. Not because I had any concerns about recoil; though a lad of considerably small stature, I would have hunted with a “cannon” if someone were to purchase one for me. Nor was the gun some sort of family hierloom handed down from ages past. No, I found the Stevens, single-shot, hammer gun in a shop I often visited; the antique gun was all I could afford. Using 3-inch rounds with appropriately sized (#7 1/2) shot, I was determined to drop an upland bird from flight. It took a season (or two) but I finally collected my first bird (ruffed grouse) on the wing, (see: “Genesis”).
My first shotgun was a .410.
Experienced gunners that say the .410 is a capable shotshell, will always add, “Because they enjoy the challenge.” Think: If that is the case, why would you give one to an inexperienced shooter?!
Prior to that first experience, if not slain from the ground or branches of trees, tens of grouse were completely missed. For me, it kept the fuse lit but the thrill of dropping that first grouse on the wing launched a lifetime devoted to upland game. “If a .410 could do that, then I can’t miss with a 12 gauge,” was my thinking back then. That, and a really-for-real pointing dog, became my next youthful quest.
Out of necessity, certainly not by choice, the old Stevens single-shot .410 occasionally saw service - when no other gun was available.
Long retired from service, that old shotgun now hangs above the fireplace. The desire to kill buckets of birds has been replaced by the thrill of watching the dogs search. Several twelve-gauge guns have come and gone, I may have settled on a few. More often than not, it’s the more sensible (to me) twenties that see regular duty. And, don’t get me wrong, I truly love .410’s; a little Savage 555 (O/U) four-ten often joins my dog(s) and I in search of quail. I must confess, there’s a bit of reminiscing behind that.
The first scatter-gun for many minors, the four-ten’s only advantages are the gun’s slightly reduced weight and recoil. (Of course, the lighter the firearm, the greater the (felt) recoil.) Otherwise, like hitting a baseball with a broomstick, the .410 is substantially disadvantaged when it comes to flying targets. If your child is not the doggedly determined type, you are increasing the odds that they will be discouraged from the sport all together.
What of our young hunter?
In keeping with our outdoor heritage, grandson John, cleanly (and confidently) harvested a young tom (jake). He used the 20 ga. he had practiced with and, without originally knowing it, a 3 inch magnum round. In his own words, “I didn’t even feel it!”
If the goal is to get an aspiring young hunter moving towards a lifetime of enjoyment, consider holding off until a more appropriate firearm and ammunition can be applied. After seeing what a twenty-gauge can do on targets and turkeys, the grandkids politley say, “No thank you,” to my four-tens. It seems that the little four-ten was never the “first-choice” for success.
