Faulkner
Member
While deer hunting with my 79 year old dad the past few weeks we've seen a lot of gray and fox squirrels. He commented several times that when gun deer season was over he wanted to pull out the .22 rifles and go squirrel hunting.
Well, deer season is closed until after Christmas in our hunting zone, so this weekend we pulled out the .22 rifles and went back to the woods in search of bushy tails. My dad hunts with a Remington 552 Speedmaster that he bought back before I was born. He has a 4x Weaver scope on it that's dates back to the mid 60's. I hunted with it a time or two when I was a youngster and it's very accurate. It must be a very early model dating to the late 50's because it does not have a serial number on it anywhere. My dad is old school in his ammo selection and uses Remington .22 short hollow points, probably from a brick he bought 40 years ago.
Of the several .22 rifles I own, I took my two year old Ruger 10/22 Takedown LITE with HTA suppressor and Barska 3x9 scope. I have found that this setup is accurate with Fiocchi 40 grain sub-sonic hollow points.
Not the least bit surprising to me, as we're driving across a pasture to get to where we're going to hunt I see a large 8 point buck grazing not 50 yards from one of my deer stands. Seems when we're deer hunting we see squirrels, and when we're squirrel hunting we see deer.
After we parked the truck we got out and loaded up our respective .22 rifles and split up and went different directions. Within 10 minutes I saw 8 whitetail deer, go figure. As I was watching one pair of does pick up acorns from under a white oak tree I heard the distinct sound of a squirrel barking. I stood still a few moments until I could get my bearings on where the squirrel was and, still not seeing it, I pulled up my binoculars and scanned the vicinity of where I thought it was. Still not seeing it, I slipped very quietly off to my left, counterclockwise to where the barking was coming from, until I had the rising sun to my back. The squirrel stopped barking for a minute, then I heard it again. Every time I heard it bark I would take a few steps closer and stop. It barked again, I took a few more steps. Finally, I'd covered about forty yards and though I still could not see the squirrel, I had it narrowed down to two trees standing side by side, one a big hickory and the other a big pin oak. I leaned my rifle against the truck of a tree I was standing next to so that I could use both hands to steady my binoculars and scan the two trees very thoroughly. By now the squirrel had probably seen me since it was no longer making a sound. Nor could I find him with my binoculars in either tree.
About that time I heard the faint sound of my dad firing off a .22 short from his rifle. Hmmm, just one shot, a smile crossed my face because that means he likely got one.
I stood still for several minutes, slowly scanning the trees for a tuft of fur or the flicker of a tail. Nothing. At this point I stopped scanning the trees and looked on the ground around me, searching for a rock or limb to throw on the other side of the tree to try and get the squirrel to move. Here in the Ozarks, a rock is never far afoot, and I found a baseball sized one just a few feet away. I picked up the rock, reached back and grabbed my rifle, then threw the rock right between the trees where it landed about 10 feet on the other side and rolled a few feed further. Instantly I saw the slightest of movement in the pin oak tree. Surprisingly, it was a lot lower in the tree than I'd anticipated, it was on the back side of a limb only about 15 feet off the ground. I eased the rifle to my shoulder and spied through the scope, which I always have set at 4.5x. The gray squirrel was peering just over the limb at me with only it's ears and one eye that I could see. I was amazed at how well it blended in with the tree. I pulled the rifle tight to my shoulder, wrapped the sling once around my left wrist, and held my breath as I tried my best to hold the rifle steady. I knew the rifle was sighted in tight, I just needed to do my part. I put the cross hairs just over the limb so that it was zeroed in on what little part of it's head I could see. After a moment I got the rifle settled in and squeezed the trigger. With the rifle suppressed, and using sub-sonic ammo, I could hear the bolt cycle and then a pop as the bullet hit the squirrel exactly where I'd aimed. It flopped out of the tree and hit the ground without so much a twitch.
I eased the rifle off my shoulder and stood still for a few minutes, hoping maybe there was yet another squirrel in the tree. I've been hunting with a suppressed .22 rifle for a couple of years and one thing I've noticed is that nearby squirrels are not as likely to run off and hole up after a suppressed shot like they do when hunting with an unsuppressed .22 or a shotgun. Not seeing anything, I walked over to the downed squirrel, picked it up and placed it in my game bag.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a loose round of ammo, removed the magazine and topped it off, then placed it back in the gun. At that point I caught some movement in my peripheral vision to my right and slowly moved my head in that direction. Immediately I saw a fox squirrel hop off of a log onto the ground about 40 yards away. I was standing more or less behind the big hickory tree so I took a half step to my right so that I was fully concealed behind it. I slowly eased around so that I was looking around the right side of the tree and watched the fox squirrel scratch and dig around in the leaves. There was some low brush between the squirrel and I but there was plenty of openings for a shot if it would just move into a clear line of fire. I eased my rifle up and leaned in on the tree with my left shoulder and braced the rifle against it, watching the squirrel through my scope.
About this time I heard the sound of another .22 short from my dad's rifle
For the next few minutes the squirrel dug and scratched and hopped well within shooting range of about 35 yards, but I could not get a clear shot through the brush. I just needed to be patient which finally paid off when it hopped right in an opening no bigger than a football. I had the cross hairs on it's head and squeezed off a round. Again, I heard the bolt cycle and then a pop as the bullet struck the target and the squirrel fell over backwards with nary a twitch.
I walked over and picked up this big ol' buck fox squirrel and placed it in the game bag with the gray squirrel. I hunted for another couple of hours and did not see or hear another squirrel. I finally worked my way back to the truck to meet up with my dad at the agreed upon time and he was there with two fox squirrels laid out on the tailgate. Two apiece is not a lot but not bad either, it's enough for a mess.
I took the squirrels home and dressed and cleaned them up and my loving wife cooked them up for lunch. She has a Cajun seasoned batter that she pan fries them in after she has par boiled them. Pan fried squirrel with mashed potatoes and gravy and homemade biscuits is about as good as it gets.
Well, deer season is closed until after Christmas in our hunting zone, so this weekend we pulled out the .22 rifles and went back to the woods in search of bushy tails. My dad hunts with a Remington 552 Speedmaster that he bought back before I was born. He has a 4x Weaver scope on it that's dates back to the mid 60's. I hunted with it a time or two when I was a youngster and it's very accurate. It must be a very early model dating to the late 50's because it does not have a serial number on it anywhere. My dad is old school in his ammo selection and uses Remington .22 short hollow points, probably from a brick he bought 40 years ago.
Of the several .22 rifles I own, I took my two year old Ruger 10/22 Takedown LITE with HTA suppressor and Barska 3x9 scope. I have found that this setup is accurate with Fiocchi 40 grain sub-sonic hollow points.
Not the least bit surprising to me, as we're driving across a pasture to get to where we're going to hunt I see a large 8 point buck grazing not 50 yards from one of my deer stands. Seems when we're deer hunting we see squirrels, and when we're squirrel hunting we see deer.
After we parked the truck we got out and loaded up our respective .22 rifles and split up and went different directions. Within 10 minutes I saw 8 whitetail deer, go figure. As I was watching one pair of does pick up acorns from under a white oak tree I heard the distinct sound of a squirrel barking. I stood still a few moments until I could get my bearings on where the squirrel was and, still not seeing it, I pulled up my binoculars and scanned the vicinity of where I thought it was. Still not seeing it, I slipped very quietly off to my left, counterclockwise to where the barking was coming from, until I had the rising sun to my back. The squirrel stopped barking for a minute, then I heard it again. Every time I heard it bark I would take a few steps closer and stop. It barked again, I took a few more steps. Finally, I'd covered about forty yards and though I still could not see the squirrel, I had it narrowed down to two trees standing side by side, one a big hickory and the other a big pin oak. I leaned my rifle against the truck of a tree I was standing next to so that I could use both hands to steady my binoculars and scan the two trees very thoroughly. By now the squirrel had probably seen me since it was no longer making a sound. Nor could I find him with my binoculars in either tree.
About that time I heard the faint sound of my dad firing off a .22 short from his rifle. Hmmm, just one shot, a smile crossed my face because that means he likely got one.
I stood still for several minutes, slowly scanning the trees for a tuft of fur or the flicker of a tail. Nothing. At this point I stopped scanning the trees and looked on the ground around me, searching for a rock or limb to throw on the other side of the tree to try and get the squirrel to move. Here in the Ozarks, a rock is never far afoot, and I found a baseball sized one just a few feet away. I picked up the rock, reached back and grabbed my rifle, then threw the rock right between the trees where it landed about 10 feet on the other side and rolled a few feed further. Instantly I saw the slightest of movement in the pin oak tree. Surprisingly, it was a lot lower in the tree than I'd anticipated, it was on the back side of a limb only about 15 feet off the ground. I eased the rifle to my shoulder and spied through the scope, which I always have set at 4.5x. The gray squirrel was peering just over the limb at me with only it's ears and one eye that I could see. I was amazed at how well it blended in with the tree. I pulled the rifle tight to my shoulder, wrapped the sling once around my left wrist, and held my breath as I tried my best to hold the rifle steady. I knew the rifle was sighted in tight, I just needed to do my part. I put the cross hairs just over the limb so that it was zeroed in on what little part of it's head I could see. After a moment I got the rifle settled in and squeezed the trigger. With the rifle suppressed, and using sub-sonic ammo, I could hear the bolt cycle and then a pop as the bullet hit the squirrel exactly where I'd aimed. It flopped out of the tree and hit the ground without so much a twitch.
I eased the rifle off my shoulder and stood still for a few minutes, hoping maybe there was yet another squirrel in the tree. I've been hunting with a suppressed .22 rifle for a couple of years and one thing I've noticed is that nearby squirrels are not as likely to run off and hole up after a suppressed shot like they do when hunting with an unsuppressed .22 or a shotgun. Not seeing anything, I walked over to the downed squirrel, picked it up and placed it in my game bag.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out a loose round of ammo, removed the magazine and topped it off, then placed it back in the gun. At that point I caught some movement in my peripheral vision to my right and slowly moved my head in that direction. Immediately I saw a fox squirrel hop off of a log onto the ground about 40 yards away. I was standing more or less behind the big hickory tree so I took a half step to my right so that I was fully concealed behind it. I slowly eased around so that I was looking around the right side of the tree and watched the fox squirrel scratch and dig around in the leaves. There was some low brush between the squirrel and I but there was plenty of openings for a shot if it would just move into a clear line of fire. I eased my rifle up and leaned in on the tree with my left shoulder and braced the rifle against it, watching the squirrel through my scope.
About this time I heard the sound of another .22 short from my dad's rifle
For the next few minutes the squirrel dug and scratched and hopped well within shooting range of about 35 yards, but I could not get a clear shot through the brush. I just needed to be patient which finally paid off when it hopped right in an opening no bigger than a football. I had the cross hairs on it's head and squeezed off a round. Again, I heard the bolt cycle and then a pop as the bullet struck the target and the squirrel fell over backwards with nary a twitch.
I walked over and picked up this big ol' buck fox squirrel and placed it in the game bag with the gray squirrel. I hunted for another couple of hours and did not see or hear another squirrel. I finally worked my way back to the truck to meet up with my dad at the agreed upon time and he was there with two fox squirrels laid out on the tailgate. Two apiece is not a lot but not bad either, it's enough for a mess.
I took the squirrels home and dressed and cleaned them up and my loving wife cooked them up for lunch. She has a Cajun seasoned batter that she pan fries them in after she has par boiled them. Pan fried squirrel with mashed potatoes and gravy and homemade biscuits is about as good as it gets.
Last edited:
