I had an acquaintance some years back who then lived up South Fork Road. He had served his country as a Marine and was retired by the time we first shook hands.

Harold was a diehard hunter, having done so in many places. Eagerly we swapped stories and grins, reliving some of his favorite soirées. Over the back sliding door an aged Marlin Model 1893 hung upon two hooks. Naturally the conversation gravitated towards that gun. Collecting it for my inspection, he began to regale me with the five-generation family lineage of that gorgeous rifle. The legend stamped on the barrel read .32-40.

Both of us being of a handloading background, we discussed ballistics and loads concerning the .32-40. It pitched a .321 caliber 165- to 170-grain bullet to the speed of approximately 1,700-1,750 feet per second. The cartridge had been chambered largely in single-shot target rifles from Ballard, Stevens and the like for use at the Creedmoor matches.

One could consider the .32-40 to be the .308 Winchester or even the 6.5 Creedmoor of its day. Its accuracy, mild recoil and wide availability made it a shoe-in for sporting use as well.

The Winchester Model 1894 followed the Marlin 1893, and both the Savage Models 1895 and 1899 were made available for the cartridge. Both Ballard and Winchester claimed ownership to the cartridge, so rifles will be found with both “.32-40 Ballard” and “.32-40 Winchester” as well as just “.32-40” stamped on the barrel. Although the .32-40 readily made the transition from black powder to smokeless, more speedy numbers such as the .30-30 Winchester and .303 Savage very handily outsold the old classic.

Harold had grown weary of my entreaties, it seemed, for this time when I asked to shoot the old rifle he conceded. Trying to hide my excitement, I swallowed the drool that had accumulated in my mouth as he handed me his prized family heirloom. Out on his back porch and settled into the stock, gazing through the buckhorn sights, Harold handed me a single cartridge and pointed to a prominent sagebrush at the center of a small clearing. The bush was just over 200 yards away and I only had one shot — It was do or die. Racking the cartridge into the chamber, I took careful aim and squeezed the trigger. A puff of white dust slightly below my point of aim reported a hit. The plodding old bullet had drilled through the smallish trunk of the sagebrush.

I don’t expect to see any resurgence of the .32-40, by any stretch. But it is a cool old cartridge — a plank in the bridge over the gap between black powder cartridges from the 1800s and modern smokeless powder cartridges.

If you have a .32-40, treasure it. Fully capable of deer and elk at close ranges and a sweetheart to shoot for pleasure, it’s earned my respect and will win yours, too. Own a .32-40? Write to us at shootingthebreezebme@gmail.com and check us out on Facebook!