My great aunt lived alone in Seattle with her cat when I knew her in the 1970s. But she used to tell stories about hunting with my railroading uncle. She would get up early in the 1920s and 30s to make breakfast for the boys before they headed out to hunt in the dark. Then she would go back to sleep in the old wall tent.
One morning she heard some quiet commotion, grabbed the Savage 99 and noticed some rough looking men going through the camp supplies. She stuck the rifle out the tent flap and announced in a loud voice "Can I help you boys?" They could not leave fast enough. This was amusing to hear coming from my elderly and frail great aunt.