A tried-and-true rifle can be your best ally when things get hairy. The author used his favorite .300 WSM rifle to stop this leopard’s unprovoked charge.

We'd seen the mule deer buck the night before. He didn't stand still long enough for my client to get a shot, but outfitter Troy Calaway and I got a long enough look at the buck before it melted into the brush to know it was an absolute monster. We hadn't spooked it, so we eased back into the area the next morning and set up to call. Though I'd never even heard of calling mule deer before, Calaway had proved so adept at it the first few days of our Sonora, Mexico, hunt that I felt confident when he began imitating a fawn in distress.

About 15 minutes into our calling session, we saw a buck running towards us. As it cleared the ocotillos, we could see its massive rack swaying back and forth as it strode into view, head down and panting heavily. My client was on the sticks and ready, so when the buck stopped at 124 yards and locked onto us, he sent a round from his .340 Weatherby on its way. Unfortunately, the shot went just under the buck's chest as it stood quartering towards us and took out its rear leg.

I heard my friend work the bolt as the buck took off from right to left across a wide opening. I silently willed the shot to break and the buck to fold, but it was not to be. The magnificent buck, a mid-190-class deer, was lost forever in the endless tangle of thorny brush and cholla cacti. When I asked my client what happened, he explained that he had worked the bolt, but he never pushed the handle back down to lock it into battery.

Later, we figured out that switching guns was to blame. He usually hunts with a straight-pull Blaser rifle similar to the one I reviewed elsewhere in this issue of the magazine. Under stress, his muscle memory took over, and he never thought to push down the bolt. I've hunted with him enough to know that had he stuck with his tried-and-true R-93, he probably would have smoked that buck.

The year before, another client had a similar problem with an unfamiliar rifle. We had spotted a bedded buck at midday and snuck up to within 40 yards. He found a rest, took careful aim, and squeezed the trigger. Unfortunately, he failed to completely close the action on his Ruger No. 1. The click of dry-firing the Ruger sent the buck running and my client home empty-handed. Had he been shooting the Winchester Model 70 he usually hunts with, there's no doubt in my mind that the heavy-horned buck would be on his wall today.

Neither of those rifle-related snafus was the first time I'd seen a rifle switch cause problems. In fact, I can recall several recent instances where a cartridge or an optic change led to a missed opportunity or a wounded and lost animal. Shooting a bunch of new guns is fun, but hunting with just one or two rifle-and-cartridge combinations has its advantages.

The main advantage to hunting with one gun and cartridge is that making difficult shots is a whole lot easier when you know your cartridge's trajectory. You can study the ballistics charts or even print out a table and tape it to your stock, but under stress, you won't have time to read it. The intimate knowledge that comes from putting hundreds of rounds on target at the range and many seasons afield make those tough shots almost automatic.