Reminds me of a funny incident.
I grew up on a half million acre sheep station in Western Australia; our homestead was in the mining town of Ora Banda. I started riding motorbikes at the age of 10 on the property (mustering, dam runs, exploring, etc), and have had the bug ever since. We were on Honda Benlys (heavy, slow, reliable, electric start!) but Dad's '51 plunger A10 laid dormant in the corner of the shed. "You can have that bike son if you can get it going"; I ride it proudly and always think of my dad.
One of our neighbors (million acre property) had a 50's Cat grader. It used starter cartridges. They looked liked12G shotgun cartridges; same dimensionally, but were castrated (no balls).
Beside the homestead was a large dam. There were often ducks on the water. The shearing season was September, and a team of shearing contractors stayed in the shearing quarters adjacent to the homestead for the 4 weeks it took to shear the flock.
A young shearer asked the station manager if he could shoot the ducks. The manager said OK; he would provide him with a single barrel shotgun and some cartridges.
Yep; you got it; they were starter cartridges for the Catgrader.
For the next couple of weeks after knock-off (4 pm) they would watch with much mirth as the great white hunter would stalk up the dam bank, and let a shot off.
After a couple of weeks he gave up in disgust; sore shoulder and no ducks in the pot!
