I have got to share this story, after reading comments below about cartridge starter; it brings back memories.
I grew up on a sheep station (smallish by West Australian standards; about half a million acres).
Every September a team of shearers would arrive for about 3 weeks work shearing the flock.
There was a large dam close to the woolshed, and it usually had ducks on it.
One year, one of the young shearers asked my father if he could shoot some ducks. My father (original owner of my '51 plunger Flash), had a wicked sense of humour, and was a sh_t stirrer of the highest order.
"No problems son; you can borrow the single barrel shotgun - and here are the cartridges".
Now dad had a 1940's Caterpiller grader, which used starter cartridges to fire the engine into life. They were the same size as the 12 gauge shotgun cartridges, and this is what he gave to the young shearer!
So, end of shift that day, and the young man stalks up the side of the dam, jumps up and lets fly at the ducks. They all take off undamaged for safer climes, but the shearer gets knocked a couple of paces back.
he repeats this ritual for a week, and nursing a bruised shoulder, returns the gun & cartridges to Dad conceding defeat and complaining that he had never shot so badly in his life!
