My father's best friend was born, raised, and lived there all his life. We called him our uncle and growing up we went over to the island to hunt rabbit, hare, jack rabbit, pheasant, and deer. Because he was an "islander" he had privileges to hunt many pieces of private land and to even hunt from closed homes (right from those widow walks) that he caretaked. I can tell you there was no better place to rabbit hunt in NE and the deer hunting was also pretty darn good. The brush is tough and most guys don't know how to put on the drives properly for the particular areas they are hunting. We used to go sit in my uncles truck on a hill that had a tower or radar dome (can't remember, but is was one of the highest places on the island) and watch guys putting on drives. With binoculars you could literally watch the deer being driven double back right between two drivers less than 20yds apart. They would never even see the deer the brush was so thick.
One time while watching a drive my uncle got excited and said they were going to push a big buck out a way that no one realized he was going. He told me to get four shells ready (he only shot o/u guns) and started his truck. We took off down the sand roads, through water holes, around hills, etc. He was really going like a bat out of hell and I was having a hard time even holding on. All of a sudden he pulls over, jumps out and tells me to bring him his gun. He would always put two shells in the gun and then two between his fore, middle, and ring fingers on his left hand so he had a quick reload at the ready. He told me to look over at the edge of the hill and watch. Within a couple minutes a buck and two does came right over that hill in the run he said they would come out at. He quickly shot twice, opened his Antonio Zoli with ejectors, dropped the other two rounds in, closed the gun, and shot the last doe about 25 yards past where he shot the first two. He was an amazing shot and I saw him make many like this through the years.
My dad died young at 55 back in 85' and my uncle died in 2001 or so. I continued to hunt with him every year until he no longer was able to. He missed my dad and would always talk about their time together in the US Coast Guard and the times just hanging out hunting. Most people know my uncle if they lived on the island as he was a sports fisherman captain for hire to many of the elite and would care take most of their homes. He was also influential in the Nantucket Sportsman Association. If I remember right he was responsible for getting the sharp tailed grouse introduced to the island and he had something to do with the jack rabbits also. His name was Fred (wiggles) Coffin. He was a great guy and a great outdoors-man.
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