Not me. I remember one time going out rabbit hunting. We were poor, really poor, and I have only one bullet that I'd inherited from my father -- "Son," he said with his dying breaths, "son, use this when times are really tough." So I had just the one bullet and times were really, really tough. We'd eaten the wolf at our door, we'd mortgaged the wall we had our back to, and we'd eaten our last grain of rice (split six ways) the night before.

So there I was, out with my father's old .30-30 and .22 bullet he'd given me as he lay dying. Every time I tried to load the rifle the bullet slid right down the barrel, being much smaller in diameter than the barrel. But I knew I had to Do Right by my father's dying wish.

All day I searched for game and then, as the sun was setting, I saw a rabbit sitting at the foot of an old tree. I took aim and threw Dad's Bullet at it -- and missed. However, the bullet struck a rock and went off, shooting a squirrel at the top of the tree instead. As it fell to earth the squirrel's body hit a limb upon which a flock of wild turkeys were resting. The limb split and the turkeys' feet were caught in the crack. That limb broke off and fell, hitting an 18-point buck deer that was behind the tree, killing it dead. The rabbit was so frightened by all this that it jumped straight up and hit a knobby old stub of branch, killing itself and knocking off the stub, from the hole of which wild honey started to drip. Wading across the creek to collect the game my overalls filled up with catfish and trout and I danged near drowned.

That's how I took a rabbit, a squirrel, eight wild turkeys, a big buck deer, 11 good-sized brook trout and three 15 pound catfish without firing a shot or wetting a line. We also took 150 pounds of wild honey out of the tree and sold the wax for $10.00, which gave us just enough money to pay the mortgage that month.

That was the year of funny weather. I remember that the thunderstorms were so localized that year that my brother left out a double-barreled shotgun one night and the next morning we found one of the barrels plumb full of rainwater and the other bone dry.

Yessir, those were the days. Taught me never to waste ammo.