Great Northern Productions

Model 94 32 Special

Age 11

by Larry Benoit

Larry's second book, The Beginning Where It All Began
Larry's second book, "The Beginning Where It All Began".1992, Benoit Enterprises.

When I first saw the rifle, I had to have it. It was so battered and beat. The receiver was rusty and had a saddle right on it so I knew that the rifle was old. The rifle belonged to an old farmer who lived down the road from us.

I had done work for him before so I knew I would somehow work for that gun.

The old man saw me looking at the gun but never said a word to me. When I went to his farm the next time, I had with me an oil rage and some oil. I asked him if I could clean the gun and he said yes.

Finally, one day when I was cleaning the gun, he said to me "Ling, do you want that gun? You can have it if you work for it, I have a lot to do this summer." So, I told him that I would clean his barn. He had an old plug, a few cows and a hen or so. I told him that I would help with his garden and try to keep the bugs off of his potatoes.

I hoed up the hills of corn and did around the taters, but I also had my work to do around our farm. I was down there as often as I could just the same.

When fall came bringing the smell of what was to come, I was down there to help dig the taters and bring in the other vegetables that was to be put down in the cellar. Then came the day that all the work was done and all I had left to do was to clean the barn. The old man told me that I had done my part and to go home and do my work there, he would see me shortly.

One night we were sitting around the supper table and there was a knock on the door. I was the one to answer it. There stood the old man with the rifle in his hand. My head was spinning, I didn't know what to say. He took a long look at me and said, "Well Ling, here is the gun that you worked so long and so hard for." Then, he handed it to me. I held it in my hands for a time and said, "Thank you sir." My gun, My gun, I finally had my 94 that I fell in love with.

How well I can remember my mother saying, "Just what he needs, another gun." But this gun was to be one of many that I would work for. This was the gun that my brother was given to use come deer season a month later. My dad and his brothers wanted him to go and they did not want me to go. My brother was bigger than I was and a year older. But, it was my 94 and I had worked hard for it.

I bawled, I yelled and I blatted long after they had left. Boy was I mad. I told my mother that I was going up Belvidere hunting. That was 15 miles away.

I went into the barn and harnessed up an old plug and hitched her up to the sleigh. I threw in an old horse blanket that we covered the horse with. Then, I went into the house and grabbed the old 25-20 singleshot. This was the gun that Uncle Windy had given my brother to use. But he didn't want to use it, he WANTED TO USE MY 94.

Boy was I upset, I was going to show them a thing or two. Over in Belvidere there was a deep basin that was a good place for deer. This was in a swamp of small spruce and hardwood where I had hunted many times before.

All during the night, new snow fell. There must have been a foot in the road where we had to go. Away I went down the road, the old sleigh bells just jingling for all that they were worth.

My uncle had a Hudson Terraplane for a car. It was a big car and very fancy. There was room for me, but no, I can't go. That car wasn't any good in the deep snow in Avery's Gore. The car was nose deep in the ditch on the left hand side of the road. There was Dad, uncle Shine, Uncle Windy and my brother all trying to push the car back on to the road. By the time I got along side of them, I had the old plug going along at a good pace. We trotted right by them. I was grinning like I was having a good time. "Get back here," my Dad shouted to me. They wanted to hook the plug up to pull the car out of the ditch. "To hell with you," I hollered back. "You didn't want me to go hunting with you, so get the car out the best way that you can." I put the old plug into a gallop. When I looked back, I could see Dad in the middle of the road as he roared and bellowed at me. I knew that I was going to get flogged when I got home but I just put it out of my mind.

I went over to the four corners and cut across into what we called the Belvidere Basin. I found where I wanted to go in the woods. I tied the old plug to a tree, gave her some hay, covered her with the old blanket and went off hunting. I wasn't in the woods half an hour when I came onto the tracks that I was looking for.

I circled those tracks and saw that the deer hadn't come out and was still in my circle. So, I tightened up the circle and found them right quick. The snow was real quiet and made for good tracking.

The first thing that I saw was that the buck was a 6 or 8 pointer. I didn't waste any time letting him have a shot in the ribs. He went about 50 yards or so right about to where my old plug was. My drag wasn't very far. I cleaned him out in a hurry and had a time dragging him back to the sleigh but he came out pretty good in the new snow. I couldn't lift the buck, so I tied him to the sleigh by his antlers. By then, my revenge was great. Boy did I feel good. Was I ever going to gloat.

There was a lot of new snow on the ground so it didn't hurt my buck to drag him. I got down to Avery's Gore and there was the Hudson, still in the ditch and all the clan. The road and the ditch were all tore up. It must have been 2 or 3 hours since I left my Dad in the middle of the road shaking his fist roaring at me.

My Dad stepped into the middle of the road. This time, he got hold of the bridle and stopped the old plug. Well, he flogged me all over the road as he was cussing and I was bawling and howling all at the same time. This was for not getting him out the first time. Then they noticed the buck. I was black and blue from being bounced around on that back road but I was grinning like a bear in a honey tree.

We got the old Hudson out and took my buck home and hung him in the barn. Of course I crowed like a rooster and made my cousins mad. No one said much that night and everyone but me was grumpy. Although my Dad was trying to look mad, I caught him later giving me a big grin. Dad gave me my 94 that night and nobody ever took it again. My mother and Dad split up while I was away in the CCC camp and my mother sold all of my guns.

Somewhere out there is my 94. And carved on the butt end is: L.E.B. 1934

As a boy growing up under The Big Jay, hunting and fishing was my love.

Larry Benoit Remington 7600 Carbine Commemorative Larry Benoit Remington 7600 Carbine Commemorative
And Get other Larry Benoit Products at Wilderness Trading & Supply Co
Larry Benoit at his home in Duxbury, VT. Larry with a few of his many trophy bucks, taken in Vermont and Maine.
Larry Benoit at his home in Duxbury, VT. Larry with a few of his many trophy bucks, taken in Vermont and Maine.
Larry points to the big Jay Peak, where Larry hunted and fished as a boy.
Larry points to the big Jay Peak, where Larry hunted and fished as a boy.

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