A-GOIN' HUNTIN' WITH THE BOYS
It was in the summer of 1886 when a tenderfoot and two seasoned mountain men ambled their way across the north slope of Mount Baldy in the San Gabriel Mountain, a-huntin' for game. The tenderfoot was a crafty lad, one given to writing tales, how he first came into contact with the two mountain men was unknown, specially since one of them was known not to get along with most folks. The trio made camp at the head of Prairie Fork, just north of Ol' Baldy. The next day, the tenderfoot took his own trail to find deer, while one of the seasoned mountain men took another. The other just stayed in camp. After all, staying in camp while others trumped through the Aspen, Juniper, Ponderosa and high elevation dwarf buckthorn for venison, was the smartest way to go. A short time later the loud thunder of a heavy rifle echoed across the treacherous mountainside. The tenderfoot was not the one who fired, but he would be the one later to write a journal entry of the effect of the thunder that he heard.
It was half a mile below camp that a 57 year old Tom Vincent found three bucks grouped in an area of scattered loose granite and dwarf buckthorn. The miner, and sometimes mountain man, quietly unlimbered his large single shot Remington Rolling-block .50 cal, and unseen by his game, made a muzzle nest out of the loose granite for his rifle in a patch of elderberry bushes. The well oiled rifle action made no noise as Tom Vincent thumbed back the hammer to full cock, which rolled the breechlock back and exposed the breech. He inserted a cartridge with ninety-five grains of black powder and the breechblock flipped forward into place behind it. Locked and loaded, the mountain man was ready to shoot.
The tenderfoot would later write that Tom Vincent 'leisurely open- fired, and not one buck got away!" Five loud rifle shots that sounded like so much thunder, rang out. Two bucks collapsed with one shot a piece, the third buck stumbled with the first shot and then was finally killed with a second! Each time Vincent fired and thumbed back the hammer, the breechlock pushed out the fired shells. Five empty shells lay on the rocky ground, but only four one half inch diameter slugs seemed to have met their targets. The mountain man never missed! Cartridge were too expensive to throw away! With the assistance of some burros and mountain man L. St. John, who was forced out of camp to help fetch the meat, Vincent brought the bucks back to camp. As tenderfoot William M. Bristol licked the end of his charcoal pencil, he put the finishing touches of his story of the amazing shooting feat. "Some days later, Vincent was in the vicinity of where he had shot the three bucks and smelled the odor or something dead. Upon closer observation, he did find a fourth buck...supporting a .50 cal hole in it's hide!" Tom Vincent's last bullet did fly true. It done struck the fourth buck that came ambling up to the group of three others while he was shooting them! Tom Vincent's shots were so swift and true that the deer had no time to run. William M. Bristol, also know as Mr. B of Wrightwood's Acorn Lodge, was known to write tall tales. But this time he wrote it as he saw it, an amazing account that was supported by two other witnesses.
Two years later Tom Vincent was with another hunter, but this time the thunder in the San Gabriels caused by his huge rifle would create a media storm that reached even to Los Angeles!
It was the 29th of September when Tom Vincent and friend DeLancey worked their way through the rocky slate of the north slope of Mount Baldy, a-hunitn' for game. Large tickets of buckthorn, scrub oak and manzanita had proven in the past to provide good spots to find game, so in this area they traveled to bag a few of the numerous bighorn mountain sheep that populated the area. The morning sun was warm on their shoulders as they negotiated the steep terrain in the area known as Bear Fork, which was in present day East Fork and Bear Gulch. Suddenly before them was a fresh bear trail of a mighty big bear! A little worried, the two stopped and had a small conversation on what do do next, go forth or go elsewhere for bighorn. They went forth. Within two hundred yards another trail of fresh bear track crossed the first! The pair became hungry for this type of game, but their momma raised no fools. They continued to move forward, but a lot slower and a whole lot more cautious. A hundred yards more yet a third fresh bear trail crossed in front of them! After another halt, a deeper conversation and then some hesitation, Vincent and Delancey, armed with their trusty heavy rifles, stayed their course.
