When I was about 12 or 13 there was this old dump I'd pass by when I was out tramping in the bush, a bunch of old wrecked cars and trucks and parts all stacked up there. It was down this old cordouroy road about a mile and a half out of town. Anyway a bunch of weasels moved into the wrecks. Man, that was awesome target practice, couldn't go wrong. I'd stand back maybe only 30 or 40 yards and shoot the first one I saw and then the fun really began. If a bunch of weasels were out and I nailed one, they'd all disappear and a different bunch would pop out to investigate the noise and I'd nail another one (yep, weasels really do go pop! lol) I used a .22 semiautomatic and more than paid for buying myself new ammo with the skins I sold. There was this fur buyer who'd give me like a buck and a half or two bucks for each one and I think my bullets worked out to about a penny apiece at the time. Put a few dollars in my jeans too, which was good cuz I was just starting to discover....girls! |