Firearms review - Four Barrels Good!

In his guest post, Montague Steeplethorpe delights in the versatility and sheer destructive force of the latest offering from a famous York gunsmith.

Because the proprietors of every safari park we contacted were so bloody unsporting, we have been unable to test the manufacturer's claim that the 'Carnagecaster X-13 Jubilee Special Edition' can indeed stop a charging rhino in its tracks.  We can, however, confirm with authority that it is quite capable of stopping a speeding Honda Civic quite effectively, with our shot taking out first the engine block, the speaker system and finally, in a rather spectacular fashion, the petrol tank.  To that extent it is judged rather more effective than the flashing 'watch your speed' sign that was previously the sole deterrent in the village to the idiot youth who had made a habit of driving through the village with no regard for the speed limit, the safety of others or indeed that anyone else may not share his appalling musical tastes.

Other experiments proved that the Carnagecaster is equally effective against badgers, deer, duck, poachers and, on one unfortunate occasion, a very surprised cow that made the mistake of startling me.  I can also report that engaging 'panic mode' when unprepared, causing all four barrels to discharge simultaneously, until ammunition is spent or the thing overheats and explodes, results in the effective vaporisation of whatever you were pointing at at the time (in this case an unoccupied - one hopes - caravan), a dislocated shoulder and a short spell in hospital being fussed over by nurses.  Hearing returns in two to three days, preceded by a not un-musical ringing.  Any facial hair will return in time.

The Carnagecaster is such an impressive example of the art of the gunmaker that merely slipping it out of its case to give it a polish, as I did last week in a crowded train, had the effect of silencing the entire carriage with the exception of a few stifled sobs.  It is unusual but gratifying to see craftsmanship still move the travelling public, who I presume are working class, to tears.

And no wonder.  The detailing on the Carnagecaster is quite superb, and a great deal of thought has gone into its design.  For instance there is a sturdy rubberised grip at the end of the barrels meaning that when ammunition is exhausted, it can be wielded as an effective club.  That is of course if you have not decided to affix the optional 'Neptune' three pronged bayonet (which is also excellent, by the way, for digging potatoes).

Much has been made of the Carnagecaster's versatility, and rightly so.  Quad-barrelled shotguns have been with us for some time, but the Carnagecaster is one of the very few to allow different types of ammunition to be fired either singularly or simultaneously.  For my trial I elected a mostly straightforward combination.  Top left, a simple steel shot for game, manual load.  Top right, once again a straightforward choice for the rifle barrel, 'deerpopper 500' shells in a magazine of 20.  At Christmas of course, one can switch to the variety with the explosive tip, commonly known as 'red misters' for their effect on their surprised target.

Bottom left, always a popular choice, a blend of charcoal enriched iron shot and white phosphorous.  This is, I have found, useful not only for hunting at night, illuminating the target for a brief instant before cooking it, but is a remarkable deterrent against poachers.  The cartridges are belt fed but for the field come in a drum of a dozen, with one 'up the spout'.  Ask your munitions man for 'a baker's dozen gypsy candles' and he should be able to sort you out.

Bottom right, described by the manufacturer as the 'ordinance option'.  A somewhat difficult choice.  Originally I went with the 'Helmand hello!', a solid tungsten bolt used to blow the doors of opium traffickers off their hinges over there, before finally settling on another favourite from that part of the world; Depleted Uranium.  Manual load.  If you have to use more than one, you are advised to improve your aim.

The Carnagecaster offers excellent value for money (POA from Pressers & Co. of York), demonstrates that it is possible to be a master of all trades and ensures you are prepared for most rural challenges.

The Field

Right!  This is it!  I’m serious this time.  I am absolutely not going to buy any more new books until I have read the ones I have bought but not read yet.  

That includes the ones that I purchased because I was going to read them on holiday.  In 2011.  Not only do I have a variety of books lying unopened and unread that I am looking forward to reading, I have also received books for Christmas from generous family.  I need to institute a strict reading programme and not get distracted by going into bookshops, coming over a bit giddy at the smell of the print, and exiting with an armful of new paperbacks.  Nor will I get pissed and go on Amazon.  These are distractions.

But that doesn’t apply to buying magazines, does it? 

No? 

Great!

That’s why it was quite legitimate to buy a copy of ‘The Field’.

‘The Field’ is an absolutely astonishing magazine.  It is all about hunting, shooting and fishing but, and this is the astonishing bit, it is unironic and unapologetic in its coverage of these matters.

I’ve long believed that because of a combination of desktop publishing and the cheap costs of printing, there is pretty much a magazine about every subject. 

Back in the day, there used to be things called ‘fanzines’, small circulation magazines produced by enthusiasts about various subjects (most famously music but also genre literature) printed on hand-operated presses using chemicals that, if used today, would get you onto some sort of watch list and, as I recall, used to result in an experience that made reading a fanzine one step away from glue sniffing. 

The advent of the internet allowed many people to move their interests on-line while the advent of computer composition for magazines enabled there to be more than one magazine published about, for instance, quilting, when one might reasonably assume that the natural number of magazines about quilting required in the world is one.  If that.

Depending on the social circle you move in, hunting shooting and fishing are either cruel, a bloody good weekend, or an excuse to wear a lot of tweed and drive a 4x4.  ‘The Field’ is for people who like their lives uncomplicated by moral choices about killing things.  This is because the people who read ‘The Field’ probably live in the country, and realise that in the county, things are red in tooth and claw to say the least and everything is out to get you.  When faced with an angry badger, shoot first, or the little bastard will savage you long before he manages to cough on you, infecting you with bovine TB and condemning you to life as a poet.

It is a little odd to read tales of slaughter told with such relish, and yet somehow attractive too.  It might be something of an exaggeration to describe a brisk bout with a trout as a ‘battle’, but it does readily convey the image of three hours in the blazing sunshine flogging yourself up and down a river with several pounds of angry fish on the other end of the line and nothing but upper body strength and, if all else fails, something your mate brought back from Afgan for you to fall back on, but it paints a picture.

My favourite article, even better than the pictures of naked posh birds taken from the type of charity calendars that young farmers like to crack one out to, is the reviews of the guns.  Guns are reviewed in ‘The Field’ the same way that cars are reviewed in other magazines, and cost about the same.

Reading about something written by an enthusiast is always a joy, and there’s a neat counterpoint when it’s written by people who think (rightly) that their way of life is under threat and yet shows, at the same time, that huntin’ shootin’ and fishin’ are as alive and well today as they always have been, at least between the pages of the magazine.  One gets the feeling that people who own guns are rarely ambivalent in their opinion.  When you’re facing down a charging boar, it’s deeds, not thoughts, that count.