Sounds close to my own experiences. Visited my brother in Colorado when I was 7 or 8 & he had a crosman 760 pump that he gave to me as my first airgun. Broke it down in to pieces to fly it back to N.Z, where we lived on a lifestyle block surround by large farms overrun with vermin. Shot that bb gun so many times until I also wore it out. Whacked my first california quail, rabbit, hare, half wild turkey, & even a flying pheasant that sounded good but I never recovered it.
It was my brothers grand idea much to his demise to take the foresight off it, along with the one off his break barrel & attach a 6inch section of garden hose. We had a shelterbelt of about 20 lawsoniana trees that had little paintball size cones on them & these we pushed in the end & we would hunt each other down but no shots were to be above the armpits. He had the advantage of speed to reload & velocity, plus he was 13 & I 8. Wait in ambush I did, & had him at like15yds, aiming at his waist & just as i shot, he spotted me & ducked down, “thuWhacK”
right in the temple, boy was he mad
& off a runnin I went no time to reload, he bore down on me & had me in short order for a good pummeling followed by an apology & back to it we went again only for the exact same thing to happen again 5mins later
, (pissing myself as I write this), & off a runnin again while giggling my guts out, before another pummeling! For the great memory it was well worth the beatings I took & he was left with two good welts an inch apart on his temple!
Sure did love that gun!