remington
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Red Offenders – The gauntlet is thrown down
I knew that there were foxes on the Chayne. I had fired at one on the 12th of August and the local hunt always turned up one or two, but nothing prepared me for my first night’s lamping there. I asked Richard, a friend with a reputation for rifle accuracy to come with me, and Continue reading
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“Shout on, Morgan. You’ll be nothing tomorrow”
Swn y galon fach yn torri, 1952
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