Here's an old family photo I found of my grandfather and the big elk he shot in the fall of 1912.
He's the guy on the right smoking the pipe, holding the '95 Winchester. Here's some pics of the rifle...
And here are the antlers today, hanging in my daughter's house.
Here's a close up of the killing shot. The bullet is still embeded in the skull at the base of the antler (the dark spot).
My grandfather, Jack Crawley, died in 1966, when I was 12, but I remember him telling me about the hunt. He shot the elk in what is now Riding Mountain National Park, north east of where the golf course is. 425 yards, one shot. No wonder the elk went down, shot in the head with a .405 WCF! The funny thing is, though, that I only just learned that it was the .405 he shot it with, and I only learned that from looking at the above photo, which came into my posession recently. He carried a Model 1886 take-down in .33 WCF for 50 years, and we all assumed that it was the .33 that shot the elk. Not so, as evidenced by the photo, which was taken very soon after the kill. (Notice that the team is there, ready to drag it out to camp). The .405 belonged to Jim Proven. The Provens and the Crawleys have been next door neighbours since 1897, and Jim's grandson Herb, is my next door neighbour today. I went to see him this morning, and borrowed the .405 for these photos. As you can see, it is in pretty good shape, most of the bluing is good, wood is worn but nice. It has fancy grain wood, checkering, and custom sights. Old Jim aparently ordered it with an African trip in mind, but never got there. The rifle had a local reputation of being unusually accurate. The Proven "boys" (the oldest of whom died at Vimy Ridge) hunted with it regularly, and would shoot the heads off bush partridges to cook for their lunch. I have never fired it, but my Dad did, and his comment was that it "killed on both ends". Recoil was punishing, and the cost of shells was worse.
Grampa had the elk mounted, and it hung for 96 years under cover, but outdoors on the veranda, and later in the shop. My daughter asked a few years ago if she could have it, and of course I agreed. It was in awful condition, the hide rotted and falling off. She had it remounted as you see it a couple of years ago. When we pulled what was left of the hide off, it appeared that the right side antler was starting to rot off a the base. When she took it to the taxidermist, she asked him if he could reinforce the rotten part. He poked around, and discovered that it was not rotten at all, and the "rotten" spot was a bullet hole, and about 1/2 inch below the surface, was the base of the .405 slug!
I don't know if anybody else finds this interesting, but we think it is really cool. Not many families have been fortunate enough to still have this sort of paper trail linking them to events of the past. The original photo, the trophy, the bullet, and the rifle, even if we don't own it. I guess these are the sort of things that turn up when your family lives in the same yard, with the same neighbours, for over a century. I hope someone out there enjoys this bit of family hisory.
Glen
He's the guy on the right smoking the pipe, holding the '95 Winchester. Here's some pics of the rifle...
And here are the antlers today, hanging in my daughter's house.
Here's a close up of the killing shot. The bullet is still embeded in the skull at the base of the antler (the dark spot).
My grandfather, Jack Crawley, died in 1966, when I was 12, but I remember him telling me about the hunt. He shot the elk in what is now Riding Mountain National Park, north east of where the golf course is. 425 yards, one shot. No wonder the elk went down, shot in the head with a .405 WCF! The funny thing is, though, that I only just learned that it was the .405 he shot it with, and I only learned that from looking at the above photo, which came into my posession recently. He carried a Model 1886 take-down in .33 WCF for 50 years, and we all assumed that it was the .33 that shot the elk. Not so, as evidenced by the photo, which was taken very soon after the kill. (Notice that the team is there, ready to drag it out to camp). The .405 belonged to Jim Proven. The Provens and the Crawleys have been next door neighbours since 1897, and Jim's grandson Herb, is my next door neighbour today. I went to see him this morning, and borrowed the .405 for these photos. As you can see, it is in pretty good shape, most of the bluing is good, wood is worn but nice. It has fancy grain wood, checkering, and custom sights. Old Jim aparently ordered it with an African trip in mind, but never got there. The rifle had a local reputation of being unusually accurate. The Proven "boys" (the oldest of whom died at Vimy Ridge) hunted with it regularly, and would shoot the heads off bush partridges to cook for their lunch. I have never fired it, but my Dad did, and his comment was that it "killed on both ends". Recoil was punishing, and the cost of shells was worse.
Grampa had the elk mounted, and it hung for 96 years under cover, but outdoors on the veranda, and later in the shop. My daughter asked a few years ago if she could have it, and of course I agreed. It was in awful condition, the hide rotted and falling off. She had it remounted as you see it a couple of years ago. When we pulled what was left of the hide off, it appeared that the right side antler was starting to rot off a the base. When she took it to the taxidermist, she asked him if he could reinforce the rotten part. He poked around, and discovered that it was not rotten at all, and the "rotten" spot was a bullet hole, and about 1/2 inch below the surface, was the base of the .405 slug!
I don't know if anybody else finds this interesting, but we think it is really cool. Not many families have been fortunate enough to still have this sort of paper trail linking them to events of the past. The original photo, the trophy, the bullet, and the rifle, even if we don't own it. I guess these are the sort of things that turn up when your family lives in the same yard, with the same neighbours, for over a century. I hope someone out there enjoys this bit of family hisory.
Glen
