My Brother and I used to do that, but it was 6 foot steel digging bars and up on the mountain behind our property.
I'm talking prying boulders the size of a Volkswagon loose and watch them tear up the landscape and take down trees.
We also had BB gun wars and often came home with one or two BB's embedded in us.
We would have to hide the wound from Mom until we could dig them out with a pocket knife.
My Brother ran from one cover to another and dropped his gun.
He was hiding behind a piece of roofing tin and trying to reach out where his gun was.
I kept warning him, but he persisted and I shot the entire covering off his index finger knuckle all the way to the bone.
Mom found out about that one because he was bleeding pretty bad, and she got really pissed at me until I showed her some of my already healed wounds.
Then she just stood there looking at us shaking her head.
These were Crossman pump rifles, and not the spring type BB guns and it was a two pump rule. (not always followed)
We lived in the Sierra Nevada mountains north of Lake Tahoe, so not a lot of socialization with other kids especially during summer break.