NEW CASTLE -- In this largely rural corner of Pennsylvania, a gun isn't just a gun.

It's a form of protection. A sporting tool. A work of art. An heirloom. A connection with the natural world. A strong bond between a parent and a child, sometimes as young as 5 years old.

"Hunting is a family tradition passed down from generation to generation," said Ted Montgomery, 61, an employee at Duke's Sport Shop on New Butler Road who harvested his first deer in 1964. "I am closest to God when I am sitting in the woods. I'm surrounded by everything that is good in the world that he created."

Like many local hunters, he expressed shock at the story of Jordan Brown, the 11-year-old boy who is accused of using a 20-gauge youth model shotgun to kill Kenzie Marie Houk, his father's pregnant girlfriend, as she lay in bed Feb. 20 in their home in New Beaver, Lawrence County.

But he and others at Duke's didn't flinch at the decision of the boy's father, Chris Brown, to buy the shotgun for Jordan as a Christmas present. While they said they didn't know what may have led to the shooting, they don't believe the blame lies with a long-standing custom.

Mr. Montgomery has taken his 7-year-old grandson hunting. Wes Morosky, whose father opened Duke's in 1976, started teaching his 5-year-old son how to shoot a .22-caliber hunting rifle last summer, and he himself stored a similar firearm in his bedroom when he was 8.

Another employee, 46-year-old Michael Fotia, first took his sons shooting at ages 6 and 4.

"They're old enough when they walk into a gun shop," Mr. Fotia said last week, as he stood in front of a wall covered with rifles and shotguns.

Mr. Brown had wanted to teach Jordan how to hunt; a week before Ms. Houk's death, the boy won a local turkey shoot.

Few parts of the United States have a stronger cultural connection to hunting and firearms than Pennsylvania. Only Texas has more hunters, according to Jerry Feaser, spokesman for the state Game Commission.

"Hunting and trapping are deeply woven into the fabric that is Pennsylvania," he said. "It's a very important part of our rich heritage and it continues to this day."

Yet the future of the state's heritage also faces increasing pressures from a mix of factors, including demographic changes and the disappearance of hunting grounds.

According to game commission figures, overall license sales were down from their peak of 1.3 million in 1982 to 924,448 in 2007.

The number of junior licenses for state residents ages 12-16 dropped from 98,233 in 1998 to 41,743 in 2007.

Under Pennsylvania law, no one under the age of 21 can buy a handgun. For a long gun, such as a rifle, the minimum age is 18.

But a child as young as 12 can receive a hunting license after taking a safety course sponsored by the Pennsylvania Game Commission.

"Most kids don't participate," said Dominick Mioni, an avid turkey hunter and high school history teacher for the Mohawk Area School District, where Jordan was a student. "A lot of people aren't into it."

Mr. Mioni, 49, estimates that less than a quarter of his own students are hunters -- a significant drop from several decades ago, when he attended the school district.

Economic development has gradually eaten away at the forested areas where he hunted as a teenager.

For instance, the 106-acre site of the former Lawrence County Sportsmen's Club, once home to deer, turkey, squirrels and rabbits, recently became the Millennium Technology Park.

Thus far, Steelite International is the only business that has moved into the park, according to the Lawrence County Economic Development Corporation, the property owner. Jordan Brown's father works for Steelite, although he has taken a leave of absence.

"They filled up the pond. They leveled every tree on there," Mr. Montgomery said.

He hunts deer in Clarion County, where the population has changed little in the past 40 years.

Some young people are reluctant to follow a parent's passion for hunting when it involves a long trek to another part of the state. Others have trouble maintaining the tradition when they leave for college or head to cities in search of better job opportunities.

Mr. Fotia's sons, now 18 and 20, are students at Penn State, and their final exams fall during deer hunting season. He expects that Nathan, his older son, will look for a computer programming job after graduation, again taking him away from Lawrence County.

Both the state game commission and local sportsmen clubs have tried to stem the decline by hosting "youth field days."

Dating back at least a decade, the annual events have spread to every county in Pennsylvania, including Philadelphia. Last August, at the Coachmen's Club in Scott, Lawrence County, more than 300 children went boating, fishing and shooting. They learned how to use handguns, rifles, shotguns and muzzle loaders.

"Everything is under very close supervision," said William McKeown, the club's president.

In 2006, the game commission started the Mentored Youth Hunting Program, which allows a licensed adult to take a child under 12 hunting. The child can't carry a rifle, but he or she can pull the trigger when the adult has found a target.

The legal prey are spring gobblers, antlered deer, squirrels, groundhogs and coyotes.

Mr. Feaser, the game commission spokesman, said it is up to adults to decide what a child is ready to handle. He only lets his 9-year-old son hunt squirrels.

When they're both out in the field, Mr. Feaser stands directly behind his son, "so I can see what he sees."

Mr. Montgomery started accompanying his father on hunting trips at age 12. But he carried a stick until he could prove he was responsible enough for a firearm.

Jordan Brown had been storing his shotgun in his room, according to law enforcement authorities.

"Should he have had the gun locked up? Yeah, obviously," Lawrence County District Attorney John Bongivengo said of Jordan's father.

But Mr. Bongivengo said it was unlikely that Mr. Brown would face negligence charges stemming from the deaths of his fiancee and unborn child.

Mr. Fotia said he always stressed responsible gun use with his sons, and to this day -- even as college students -- they must ask permission before he'll give them firearms from his safe.

Mr. Morosky now stores his firearms in a safe to keep them secure. His father, Alex "Duke" Morosky, opened their gun shop in 1976 after decades of collecting firearms as a hobby. The store does $2 million in sales a year, including several hundred lightweight rifles for children.

A Harrington & Richardson shotgun, similar to the model that Mr. Brown purchased for his son, costs $175.

Every firearm sold at Duke's comes with a lock, and Mr. Morosky said parents should make sure their guns are put away to keep them out of the hands of children.

Mr. Montgomery used the mentor program to take his grandson on his first hunting trip last year. He described it as one of the greatest experiences of his life.

He hopes someday to give his grandfather's rifle, a Winchester Model 94 from the 1950s, to his grandson.

"He'll be hunting," Mr. Montgomery said. "I can see it in his eyes."