wet barrel
i was 15, in a jon boat, with too many leaks to count, crossing an oxbow where the san antonio river runs into the guadalupe river. a mottled duck was swiming past a cypress tree a little ways off. a bet was made as to whither that duck could be killed. my buddy took the bet, and when he went to get his rifle a nylon 66, it could not be found. as he looked over into the water i saw it in the bottom of the boat. he picked up the rifle, drained it a few seconds, and hit the duck in the head at a distance of at least 75 yards. i never could get him to admit he was not really aiming at the head.