It takes a few hours for this ol' boy, but the reward at the end is worth every second.
Whacked me a mature doe with the inline the other day on a stupidly easy hunt, and got the rest of 'er in my belly and freezer today. Reckon it's time to go git another'n.
That ol' Traditions .50 cal does a number on 'em. With 120 grains of Triple Seven pushin' a Barnes Spitfire T-MZ 250-grain sabot, they usually don't take another step. Carryin' that gun's damn near cheatin, but I like to whack one with it every now and then.