When I was a kid trapping for spending money, I'd have thought I died and went to trapper Heaven if I coulda had this little Bearcat as my trappin' pistol. Picture a 14 year old kid finding a 25# boar coon, toe caught in a #1 Victor Stop Loss muskrat trap. I used Grandpa's old Marbles belt knife to cut me a 2 foot long club outa the biggest willow I could find, maybe 2 1/2" at the butt. I hit that coon as hard as I could swing that club. His front legs splayed in the mud of the Black Crick and he popped right back up and hissed at me. Thus commenced the battle of the coon in the mud. Eventually, unconscious, (the coon not me), I dragged the mud encrusted boar into the water and stood on his chest until long after the bubbles stopped coming up around my LaCrosse hip boots. Then picture a wet, muddy, heavy coon, and a few rats filling an Ash pack basket, with muddy water running down my back into my butt crack as I trudged the two miles back home with my catch. I was a poster child for Fur Fish and Game.
Upon skinning that greasy bugger I found the top of his melon to be one big hematoma but no skull fracture. I had to wash the mud out of the hide, then flesh him, stretch him on a basswood stretcher board, and sold him for the extravagant sum of 3 dollars. I'd get 8 bucks for a big mink, and 75¢ for muskrats.