I would be surprised if Hemingway ever owned a double rifle. His experience shooting a rented .470 on his first safari did not bode well.

"Instead of the sweet clean pull of the Springfield with the smooth, unhesitant release at the end, this trigger came to what, in a squeeze, seemed metal stuck against metal. I was like when you shoot in a nightmare...."

"'The hell with that four-seventy,' I said. 'I can't shoot it. The trigger's like the last turn of the key opening a sardine can.'"

The Green Hills of Africa