11 or 12 years old, out woods loafing with my trusty Crossman, sitting just below the top of a slightly wooded ridge, mainly junipers and such with a few trees here and there, overgrown pasture, I believe. I heard a gawdawful screaming above me ... several one or two second bursts. I scrambled up to the top of the ridge, scaring off a big red-tail hawk that had obviously just nailed a rabbit. The rabbit took off too. I winged a hail Mary shot at the rabbit, clean miss, but I could see three red stripes down the length of his hindquarter where the hawk had grabbed him. Pretty cool sight for a kid to see.
