That patterns of steel and lead vary widely is a given, even with closely matched loads, and it just makes sense that without practice shooting non-toxic loads you're going to misjudge some shots.

Last season I had the opportunity to run some comparison field-tests using Bismuth No-Tox and steel during a sea duck hunt to Maine. My host had cases of steel waiting, so I loaded up on Bismuth in several shot sizes. Although Bismuth is the closest lead substitute available, prior to the trip, it was my first time using this premium load and I wanted to run a few through the barrel just to see how they performed before the big trip.

Bismuth is available in popular loads for upland birds and turkey as well as a wide selection for waterfowl. Upland loads for 12 gauges are offered in 2-3/4", with 1-1/4 ounce of either 4 or 6 size shot. Velocity on both of these loads is 1220 fps. Waterfowl loads are available in BB, 2, 4, 5, and 6.

Pheasants on the high plains were my best option at the time. I read all the material I could get my hands on, patterned several loads on paper, and was impressed with the tightness and uniformity of both the #5 and #6 loads I had selected. Bismuth is a premium load, sharing the top of the non-toxic heap with only a few brands. With 86% of the density of lead and all of the wonderful characteristics of its prohibited predecessor, it's most lead-like.

Everything I read boasted about the down range velocity and knockdown power of Bismuth, which incidentally is the main ingredient in Pepto Bismol™. While I didn't have a need for the pink elixir, I did want to put some birds in the bag for a recipe that will get your gastric juices flowing.

I set out with enthusiasm on a chilly November morning two weeks into the season. The area I hunt is not covered in birds. In fact, usually I do a lot more walking than shooting, which isn't necessarily a bad thing for me. One thing the paucity of birds has taught me is to pay close attention. Sometimes you only get one or two chances in a morning's hunt and a miss or missed opportunity weighs heavily for days to come.

The morning's frost was still glistening on the sage grass as I jacked a #4 and two rounds of #6 into my Benelli Montefeltro, thinking that I'd have the heavy load for a distant bird should more than one rise, or my hand-eye coordination fail me badly. An hour later, after working two fields thoroughly, the familiar cackle and flailing of wings peaked my pulse rate and I swung down on a fleeing pheasant cock.

One pull of the trigger and I watched as bird and feathers parted ways, the former falling in a ball of stillness that was impressive as small feathers floated gently on the early-morning breeze. That bird dropped like a rock. After field dressing it, I could easily see why.

I'd matched barrel speed with the rooster when he was about 25 yards out and moving fast. By the time I'd pulled the trigger, he was closer to 35. Fortunately he was headed away, because his backside was impacted so heavily that an accurate accounting of the number of shot was folly. An hour later the wind started its daily routine in the Nebraska panhandle, trying to blow it to Kansas, and I called it a day, thankful for one fat rooster.

On the first of December, I set out for the shores of Maine at least confident that I was somewhat familiar with these shot shells, and anxious to try them on birds that are notoriously hard to bring down.

I was hunting with another outdoor writer, whom shall remain anonymous due to a regrettable error on his part. The last time he had used his shotgun was for a turkey hunt. Fortunately he discovered that he had a full-choke tube in his barrel before blasting a load of steel through it. Unfortunately, he didn't bring his extra choke tubes.

With a sheepish tone he inquired, "Does anyone have an improved cylinder or modified choke tube that would fit my shotgun?" It was 5 a.m., and the boat was waiting at the docks. No one had any tubes, but suddenly it occurred to me that the Bismuth I had brought would save his hunt. Although devious thoughts of ribbing him through at least one duckless morning crossed my mind, I suppressed the urge when he said he was hunting even if the steel ruined his barrel. I held out the boxes of 3" magnums reluctantly. I really wanted to see them in action, but a distant peek would have to suffice.

When we arrived at the first island to set up for the morning's hunt, I discovered that the steel we had to shoot was 2-3/4", not great, but I reasoned that it would have to do. It didn't, at least not that well. Our host advised us to keep shooting until the birds were dead in the water, and we did.

The first flight arrived shortly after sunrise and the gray skies flickered with muzzle flashes as everyone unloaded the easy way. I rolled the first bird with my steel loads, and then watched as it was knocked backwards. Four eider lay bobbing in the edge of the surf. From across the rocks a whoop rang out over the fading echo of shots. "Man, did you see those birds fold up? These are some great loads," he shouted.

"Yea, I saw that," I replied with some regret, trying to reaffirm my decision. After two more similar experiences I was wondering if I had packed any Pepto Bismol for this trip. I was beginning to see a need for the alternate benefits of Bismuth.