The earliest "hunting" I can remember, I must have been about 4 yrs old in Jacksonville, FL. My mom or dad had told me that if you sprinkle salt on a birds tail, you can catch it. I spent hours in the back yard chasing birds that perched in the bushes, and finally realized that my movement scared them away. After that (on the advice of "uncle Dutcher", a Navy friend of my dad's) I spent untold hours standing stock still, right hand extended (for the bird to land on) and left hand "cocked" above my shoulder with a pinch of salt to "capture the bird with". I had many birds land in the bushes right beside me, but none landed on my hand. I gave it up when THE MOM stopped the "salt allowance" (or took pity on my gullibility, depending on your perspective).
Maybe a year later (still not in school), one of the really old boys in the neighborhood (maybe 8 or 9) caught a water moccasin, and the hunt was on. We "baited" the "Great Swamp" (probably just a local slough) off of overhanging branches using string with the bait (a piece of meat) hanging just above the water. We caught thousands of snakes...well hundreds...okay, maybe it was just a few, but we could have caught thousands if my 1 year younger brother hadn't had such a big mouth. THE DREADED MOM put a stop to that in a hurry, unfairly notifying other MOMS in the neighborhood and precipitating a sudden and inexplicable anti-hunting craze among the neighborhood moms.
My next hunting memory was when I was 6, the summer before I started school in Key West. Kindergarten wasn't required (or free) back then, but summer school was (free). I quickly figured out that I could use my milk money to take a (school) bus ride to the beach with the kids who were taking swimming lessons. I didn't need swimming lessons, already being at least as good a swimmer (and at wrestling crocodiles/snakes etc) as Johnny Weissmuller was in those Tarzan movies, so I (and other experts) were really just getting a ride to the beach.
While most of the other kids were having their swimming lessons, I and the other "experts" would swim out to the reef to hunt. I had a mask and a snorkel, and traded off the snorkel sometimes with an older kid so that I had 1 fin.
There was no fish large or small that was safe from my spear gun. Well actually the "gun" part didn't apply since all I had was a spear. It was a very superior spear though, designed by me and sharpened with my very own very special Swiss Army pocket knife (5th birthday present). That spear was capable of killing the largest most voracious shark in the ocean (it's just lucky for him he never showed up). If I had had 2 fins and a snorkel, I for sure would have killed some other kind of fish with that spear (at least once). Lesson learned for life, always have the proper and best equipment.
My first firearm hunting experience was with a single shot .410 shotgun my dad had just given me (8 or 9 years old?). For at least a lifetime (or so it seemed), I had been shooting my .22 Remington bolt action rifle at targets without being allowed to kill anything. This despite the fact that my .22 was undoubtedly the best, most accurate rifle that had ever been produced by any gun manufacturer in all of history and was capable of taking any game in the world, even elephant. I had finally been upgraded to a "Big 5" gun with the .410, and was going to be allowed to shoot something other than targets.
Coming home from the range where I had shot it for the first time, we saw a jackrabbit frozen in the headlights maybe 20yds away. My dad told me I could load the .410 and shoot the rabbit if I wanted to. Already being an expert, I grabbed a shell from the box, broke open the action, very quietly got out of the truck, put the shell into the action, closed it, cocked the hammer (this whole process taking perhaps 2 minutes in which the rabbit just stood there), and then fired about 15' in front of me (well short of the rabbit).
I suspect this was probably a "good thing", since the embarrassment over "buck fever" on that first jack rabbit has kept me from repeating the mistake.