Zeroing In

No. I am not thinking about Japanese pilots over the Pacific. I took my two rifles out of their cases and shot them the other day. The occassion for shouldering the weapons was that a rather formidable-sized coyote was hanging out around the place, and my dogs would be no match for him or his pack. Coyotes and coydogs have taken over the ecosystem here in the past decade or two. They have no predators, aside from man with guns or poison. The rabbit and skunk and possum population is in control; the number of missing and unaccountable domestic pets is as high as it has ever been. So I had the coyote dead in my sights with a 30-30 and fired. I had not shot the rifle in so long, I had no idea whether I was high or low, left or right. As the early dawn sun was behind me and the coyote was confused, I actually pulled off a second shot, again without result. So yesterday, I hammered an old garbage can top to a tree about 125 yards across the field and began firing a few shots at a time, looking for a pattern. Only one 30-30 slug grazed the tree; one .22 bullet nicked the bark much lower on the trunk. And thus I began the process of sight adjustment, a click or two at a time. Three clusters later, the .22 is deadly accurate. I have grouped shots in clusters no bigger than a silver dollar. The next time I see old Wily out there, I'll reach for the varmit rifle instead of the 1894 Winchester, knowing that an accurately placed shot will be far more deadly. I am now zeroed in.