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VOL. 8, NO. »
‘December, 1936 ALSEA, OREGON
Xe Sylvan Archer December, 1936
VOL. 8
NO 8
Published Monthly By J. E. Davis and J. R. Todd Alsea, Oregon
J. E. DAVIS ....
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TABLE OF CONTENTS STUMP HUNTING STUNTS By Erie Stanley Gardner
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TARGET SHOOTING VS FIELD SHOOTING By Ray Hodgson ... .5
EDITORIAL
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ARCHERS GONE HOLLYWOOD By Reed Williams
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BUNK BY BROMMERS
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LETTER FROM CURTIS HILL
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December, 1936
YE SYLVAN ARCHER
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Stump'Hunting Stunts By ERLE STANLEY GARDNER
This is a wail of protest against the question, “What’d yuh get?” and a boost for stump-hunting. We've heard lots about deer-hunt ing, rabbit-hunting, hog-hunting and quail-hunting. For myself, I prefer stump-hunting because that’s where 1 get the most enjoyment with a bow and arrow. That’s where friendships are formed, nerves relaxed, character developed and the little laugh-lines stamped around the corners of the eyes. Brothers, I'm a stump-hunter. And somewhere along the line it’s time to do something with the goof who says: "Hello, been hunting?” . . . "Yeah”. . . "What’d yuh get?” Why, shrivel his miserable hide, I got what I went out for, a good time. Somewhere along the line we be came imbued with a creed of results. I suppose it comes from leading a competitive life under a commercial regime and making financial state ments whenever we want to borrow money. Anyhow, if we go deer hunting, we gather unto ourselves the impression that we’re going after deer. If we get a deer, we’ve had a successful trip. If we don't get one, we’ve failed. In the name of reason, why? We can buy meat at the butcher shop. We don't want the meat. We can buy leather all made up, tanned and polished. What do we want a deer for? We don’t. Mostly, if we’d be honest with ourselves, killing a deer, with the necessary chore of skinning, cleaning, transporting and hanging, would be something of a nuisance. Why do we hunt them, then? Because we want amusement, re creation, freedom from the cares and worries of civilization, and the com panionship which comes from rubbing elbows with a good guy in the moun tains. It took Walt Wilhelm to make me appreciate the real philosophy of stump-hunting. I’d drifted in from the high mountains, a couple of house trailers tagging along behind. Walt called a gathering of the clan, Ed Hill from Barstow, and Walt’s broth er, Ken.
"What time’ll we start? Ed Hill asked. It was a bit chilly out in the des ert around daylight. There was al so the matter of breakfast for the pair who were coming over from Barstow, as well as the twelve mile drive for them, and a fifteen mile drive out to the country. Ken op ined we should start about daylight, and without bothering about break fast. Walt looked at him. “Now listen," he said, “at this time of year there ain’t apt to be any thing down there except some mes quite stumps, and we can shoot at them later on, on a full stomach, just as well as we can at daybreak.” “If there ain’t nothing down there, what are we going for?” Ken asked. “Why, we’re goin’ down to have some fun,” Walt said. “We may see
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A close miss. See the arrow just missing the edge of Ken’s quiver?
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a rabbit or two, but we’re goin’ down to talk an’ shoot, an’ visit.” Well, when you came right down to it, that’s exactly what I’d driven four hundred mi’es for. Up where I’d started from, there was a stretch of prime rabbit country within fifty miles. But I’d chaperoned those house trailers across a range of moun tains. and driven eight times as far, to hunt stumps with those boys in the desert. Right then and there, I determined that the next time any goof asked me what I got on a hunting trip, I’d look at him with a slight expression of surprise on my map, and as much patronizing condescension as I could pack into my voice, and say: “Why, I got exactly what I went out lor, of course, a good time.” Now this stump-hunting isn’t a par ticularly simple procedure, so you chaps who hunt only deer when you’re deer hunting, don’t go off half-cocked, but listen to tz stumphunting as is stump-hunting. Let's agree on a starting point. First we’ll admit that hunting live game is lots of fun—if it’s fun you’re looking for, and not trying to bag a limit just so you can throw your chest out to show the people next door what you’ve killed. But hunting for live game involves a certain neces sary restriction on companionship. There’s a bit of a strain on the nerves. You separate and stalk along with every sense alert. There’s the flash of a white tail, and you realize you should have seen that bunny while he was sitting in the shadow of the little clump of brush, and that real ization doesn’t help your shot any .... But you fellows know all about this without having me tell you. It’s when the sun gets too high for the rabbits to be out that I'm writ ing about. Then it’s time to turn back. You swing into a little clear ing by the stream. Your companions come walking softly down the trail. They see you and sort of relax and start planting their feet careless like. You get through the first pre liminaries of “I saw that rabbit you jumped back of the cottonwoods. I had a running shot at fifty yards .... See that big hawk that flew over.... Sure gave a bluejay a haircut and a shave . . . .” and then someone starts down to businert:
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“See that stump over there? Now that’s about the size of a deer.... Which stump? Wait a minute. Don’t shoot yet. I don’t know whether you mean......... Well, watch my ar row and you’ll see which one I mean . . . . Taang .... thump!” Now that’s when the good time starts for me. You put a blunt arrow on the string, and quit this business of separating and stalking along as though your life depended on killing a bunny rab bit. You come down to earth, rub elbows with your friends, and take two hours walking nack over the country you “hunted” in forty-five minutes. These Wi’helm boys do stump hunting with variations, and a man who can’t handle a bow and arrow hasn’t any business mixing into their little games. It’s a whole lot better to stand on the sidelines with a cam era—as I did—and write about it af terwards. First variation of the stump-hunt ing game is, “Now. can you shoot an arrow higher than the top of that tree and have it come down in your quiver?” That, of course, calls for a shoulder quiver. The archer has the privilege of moving, running under the arrow, and all that. But. take a tree that’s fifty or si.xty feet high, shoot up high er than the tree, and start playing tag with the arrows and see what you get. Of course, Dusty Roberts has a game that is the refinement of stump hunting back to sheer lunacy. “Now we’ll each put three broadheads on the string at one time, shoot ’em ab solutely straight up in the air. and see which one of us can keep from moving his feet.” I don't advocate this. I’ve seen Dusty do some tall wiggling, bending way back while one broadhead whiz zed past his tummy, and barely man aging to reverse the process as anoth er one plunked down where the more posterior portions of his anatomy had been but a moment before. I think what cured Dusty of this— conceding for the sake of the argu ment that Dusty could ever be cured of anything—is the time we took the neophyte out hunting near some lake in Oregon. That is, the neophyte told us about where the geese came
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in in a solid line as far as the eye could see. You know how it goes, the old. old theme song of the guy who’s telling you you should stay over an extra day to go out to the lake where “when they start coming in from the grain fields the air’s literally black with geese. You can’t hear yourself talk.........” Well, (his was the same old song, only, when we got out there, instead of having it turn out the geese had all been driven out by that high wind last week, or that the lake had been drained and wasn’t there any more, the darn thing was true! Of course this was some little time ago; but when those geese started moving in, the descriptions of all those local en thusiasts scattered from here to there was amply borne out. The first flight came over and we loosed three arrows. Those three broadheads missed the geese by inch es. and went whizzing on up in fast moving streaks, to arch over and hang for a moment poised against the blue of the sky as though suspended by invisible, blue thread. Then they lobbed over and became fast-moving dots which were quickly invisible. The geese were all around us, go ing into tail spins, nose dives and barrel rolls, as they’ll do for a sur-
prise flight of arrows, but won’t for guns. The air was filled with the whirring of wings, the rush of heavy bodies, and startled squawkings. Dusty said, “Boys, keep your eyes peeled. Let the geese go. Those ar rows are coming down on top of us.” We stood there, waiting for the arrows to come into sight. There they were, right above us, coming like three plummets. I gulped a couple of times and estimated dis tances. The neophyte let out a strang led, inarticulate yell, and started to run. He slipped, went down flat, and his arms and logs flailed around like a windmill. He was crawling directly into the path of a plunging arrow! Dusty yelled. I yelled. The guy made noises and kept go ing.
There was a pool of surface water. He hit that, and I’m tolling you. with out exaggeration, he flung up a bow wave on each side or his neck, just as though he’d been a speed boat. It wasn’t a high bow-wave, but it was enough of a wave to be distinctly vis ible just the same. The puddle slowed him up just enough to make him lose his appointment with the arrow. “Flunk”.............. “ThuiiK”.................. “Whiink!” Three arrows half buried them-
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A new variety of stump-hunting—Walt Wilhelm “two sticks” a fire
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selves in the damp ground almost at the same time. The arrow the neo phyte had been racing toward was directly between his right shoulder and his ear. A matter of inches and it would have caught his spine. The other two were less than ten feet from Dusty and me. I haven’t ever wittingly stood un der an arrow since. But, these Wilhelm boys have other variations of stump-hunting. One of them’s, “Now, suppose we were out in the woods with no food and no matches, and that little clump of brush was a quail, let’s sneak up on the brush, each shoot an arrow at it, and the one who gets it has to start a fire going.” That’s a tricky one. Walt Wilhelm was the one whose arrow plunked into the exact center of the little sage-brush. The rest of us missed it. Therefore, Walt had to build the fire. He did it in the approved manner, taking a leather shoe lace, tying it to a springy limb, getting a round piece of dry wood, sharpening it to a point, resting one end on a rock and drawing the improvised bow back and forth. Ever try that particular variety of stump-hunting with three guys sit ting around giving you advice, and making comments about how they guessed you’d have to eat the quail raw? Try it sometime. It develops woodsmanship—and homicidal tend encies. Walt got the fire going. I don’t think he kindled it by rubbing the sticks together. I think some of the language slipped from his lips and. drooled down the round stick of wood. Getting two sticks to smoke isn’t much of a trick. Getting them into flame, is something else. At first, Walt thought he’d won the checkered flag when the bits of wood started smoking. We pointed out he couldn’t cook even a sagebrush quail with smoke. So we made him get another stick of wood and begin all over again. Of course, it wasn’t part of the bar gain that he had to get the other‘ stick of wood. It became necessaryr when he broke the first piece short:
December, 1936
off when we told him a few things about fire building. And then again, the knowledge that I was squatted there with a camera didn’t help mat ters any. The clicking of the shut ter was interspersed with the sound of whirring wood and Walt’s heavy breathing. He got the fire going. What surprised me was that the whole desert wasn’t aflame. That’s stump-hunting for gradu ate archers. It’s more fun than tak ing life so damn seriously. These guys out in the desert are the rich est men I know, and they don’t pay big income taxes, either. Walt goes out in the desert in a car he’s constructed with an armored crank case, special transmission, six speeds forward, four in reverse, and gathers a load of rocks which don’t look like anything to the unedu cated eye. He comes back and polish es 'em up on wheels he’s made him self, mounts 'em in silver, and the tourist snaps them up. And well he may! They make costume jewelry which can’t be duplicated anywhere in the world, polished bits of petri fied palm, the ribbon-like opalescent centers of silica seepages, the care fully selected bits of desert jasper, found by a man who knows his rocks and his desert. If that pair had twenty million dol lars they couldn’t buy anything they really want which they don’t have. The desert’s their home. They spend most of their nights sleeping under stars. They know where to go to hunt the wild jackass, the deer, rab bits, quail, ducks, doves and even bullfrogs. They have about three hundred and sixty days of delightful adventure out of the three hundred and sixty-five, and they make a liv ing doing it. I suppose I get around about as much as the next man. I’ve hunted with the bow and arrow from yachts in the Inside Passage, in Alaska. I’ve been with Dusty Roberts when he killed one of the distinctive small deer of Cedros Island with a single arrow. I’ve hunted boar on the chan nel islands, deer in Oregon; but, looking back on it, about the most fun I’ve had has been stump-hunting. I’ve hunted stumps with Doctor
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Cathey in Oregon (and sometime get him to tell about the stump he killed in his shirt sleeves with the ther mometer at five above zero one night), with the big archers’ jam boree in southwestern Oregon, with Dusty Roberts in various places, and with these Wilhelm boys all over the desert. To mv mind, archery represents a relaxation, a chance to form and keep alive friendships. I don’t give a damn what I kill. I’m interested in the fun I’m having Every so often I climb on a ship and sail the seven seas in search of adventure. I buy adven ture wholesale and sell it retail. So I go out after raw material. I’ve n’unned into the night life of most of the large cities, scratched far be neath the surface in China, broken in on the religious ceremonies of head hunters. twice gone into places where the interpreters backed out. Once every year I get to New York and mingle with the bigwigs in the writ ing and editing game. But I always come back to the open, to nights spent under the stars to the twang of a bowstring, the hissing flight of a shaft, and the real friends of the bow and arrow. And, when the game hunting part is finished and the stump-hunting commences. I take a deep breath and really live. And for the next guv who says. 'Well, what’d yuh get?” I have my answer ready. "A stump!” Now look over there to the right. That clump is about the size of a coyote. No not that one.... this one .... Here, watch this arrow!”
TARGET SHOOTING VS. FIELD SHOOTING By RAY HODGSON, San Pedro Perhaps one-half (or should I say two-thirds?) of the archers in the United States do not give a rap about target shooting, and perhaps onehalf of the target shots do not know there are many people interested in field shooting. What is the reason that practically all the membership in N. A. A. is made up of target shots? Why are not hunters, rovers, and field archers in general eager to become members of the National Archery Association? Why should they? What has N. A. A. to offer?
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Will the hunter be benefitted by be longing to N. A. A. or will he be ex pected to carry the burden of the tar get enthusiast? I am neither a target shot nor a fiekl archer, but mingle with both, and I would like to see all archers get together in planning their yearly program. I do not believe, however, that it is wise to cram a program of both into the one week of national competition. Anyone knows, who has nut on a national tournament, that it is a iob to prepare for the target shootin0- alone. One must provide space for the ever growing annual target meet, and the program must be carried out in a limited amount of time regardless of weather condi tions. We must realize that field archery and target shooting are two differ ent sports. If we try to include field archery in a target meet, it detracts interest from the real purpose of the meeting. If we should give field archery the space and time that it is entitled to. it would reflect in the dignitv and seriousness of the target scoring. Flight shooting. I believe, belongs to the target tournament as in the past. Hunting, roving, skeet shootinf?. etc., belong in a separate field with a separate organization. I think we are making a big mistake in try ing to cram the national target tourn ament full of field events, thus not doing justice to either. To be sure, we want to increase membership in the National Archery Association, and we want to see a large turnout at the tournaments; but when it grows to the point where it begins to be unwieldly, it is time for branch organizations to carry the load. Why wouldn’t it be better for the fie’d archers to have their own asso ciation. conduct their annual program topped off with a week’s hunting in one of the “Archer’s Paradises.” and a yearly get-together as outlined by Roy Case? Field archery is going to grow by leaps and bounds. It will be a full sized job for any man or group of men to carry on its program alone. The game comimssions and the sportsmen are already frowning on the rifle as a hunting weapon and the (Continued on page 11)
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YE SYLVAN ARCHER
December, 1936
Editorial Fish and Game Commission in an at It seems that a little explanation tempt to change the law so that hunt other than can be included in a single line caption should be given regard ing with the bow and arrow would ing the pictures accompanying Reed be^ legal except on deer. Archers Williams’ "Archers Gone Hollywood.” should let Mr. McGovern know that We regret that the cut was made his efforts are appreciated and it from a print that was not finished for should be made known to the com good reproduction. It does not do mission that archers are law-abiding justice to the noble poses of our act hunters who believe in game conserv or-archer friends. Reed Williams ation. himself, he with the spiked helmet on the extreme left, has his bewhiskered The Seattle Bowmen sponsored a jaw set in grim defiance of the in turkey shoot in their indoor range vaders as he draws his rubber tipped Sunday November 15. A pistol tar arrow only half way for fear of get was used and no sights or points breaking the whip-ended bow pro of aims were allowed. Each archer vided him by the quartermaster’s de shot six arrows and the one having partment. Parker, to the right of an arrow nearest to the center was Reed, has no doubt read the story of declared the winner. This made luck Achilles and he is aiming at what he the biggest factor. The lucky ones: supposes is a vulnerable spot in the A. W. Partee. Cal Patty, Jane Ad anatomy of one of the crusaders. Or ams, A. M. Anderson, L. D. Hunter, could it be that Parker has been beat and Loma Groves. en in tournament by the prostrate Larry Hughes and is aiming at an ex The second annual hunting party, posed ear or other tender spot ? Prob sponsored by the Ohio State Archery ably it is just as well that the pic Golf and Hunting Association, was ture is not too good as we should hate set for Saturday, November 21, at to expose the identity of those arch the Ohio Archery Hunting Preserve. ers who shoot from ambush and re We hope to have a report of the hunt fuse to expose their manly chests to for the next issue. the swords of the enemy. But Reed felt the photograph Entries to the Olympic Bowmen failed to do justice to the battle and League are already coming in. Sec furnished us the cartoon which shows retary Duryee has two entries from Larry’s head beneath the conquer the Victorian Archers of Victoria, or’s heel, Seay in the midst of a B. C., and one team from the Peru "butterfly” release just before the Archers of Peru, Ill. These are new baptism of fire, and the part taken entries to the league match. Those by some of the assistant directors, planning to enter should get busy as a part not written in the script. The the match is limited to 26 teams. way Austin’s eyes and arrow wan dered from the scene of battle makes Members of the Ohio Archery Golf us wonder what his feud was with Association were invited to shoot a the make-up man. Did he lose his round or two on the nine-target pink silk underwear too? course of the Ohio State University and the Department of Physical Edu As was noted in Dr. Cathey’s re cation, on Sunday, November 22. port on the legal status of the bow and arrow, the Arizona authorities The Seattle deer hunters went to have turned thumbs down on all hunt Eastern Washington instead of to ing with bow and arrow in that state. Utah as reported last month. Kore This, we are informed, was due to Duryee had bad luck, as he injured "some abortive attempt to kill deer his shoulder before he had a chance in the Kaibab Forest with bow and to hunt, and had to return home. arrow.” Mr. W. M. McGovern, Exec utive Secretary of Phoenix Chamber The Pope Young Field Archers of of Commerce, 27 E. Van Buren St., Oregon now has a total of seventyPhoenix, Arizona, is working with the one members.
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December, 1936
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^Archers Gone Hollywood By REED WILLIAMS, Los Angeles, California At last the truth can be told. De Mille’s “Crusaders” has swashbuckled its successful way through the first, second, third and fourth run houses and there is no longer danger of ruining its success by divulging the harrowing details of cruelties practiced upon archers during the filming of that super epic. Just as an example, you who saw the picture, and what archer did not, will recall how Richard the Lionhearted sprang from the drawbridge onto the walls of Acre. There was a Sara cen’s corpse draped gracefully over the battlement and Richard found it convenient to use the corpse’s neck as a stepping stone. Well, believe it or not, that corpse was none other than Larry Hughes. The Iron Man of Southern Cali fornia found it difficult to stay in character with a crusader’s spur am putating his ear but he made a noble effort to modulate his profanity to the period of the play. He said, quite forcefully:
“Get off my neck, you dog of a Christian!’’ This “ad libbing” as they call it was not approved by the other act ors for Richard went right on slay ing infidels with no further notice of our champion, and a White Cross Knight, following in the wake of the Lion Hearted one, spurred Larry up on the other extremity, saying: “Shut up, you so and so, you are sup posed to be dead.” You ask: “How come Larry was chosen from all that likely corpse material to play possum upon the walls?” Well, that’s Hollywood for you. The director saw the archers shoot a few times and immediately picked Larry for this special bit of acting. “You are just the type,” he said as he indicted the spot where Larry could do his stuff to best ad vantage. It is universally admitted among his friends that if Larry would stay with the game he would become as much sought after for corpse roles as Fred Astair is for dancing parts.
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But I am getting ahead of my story. To begin with, there was the arch er Earl Powell. He was the man on the inside who did most of the plain and fancy shooting for the picture but when it came to the storming of the walls at least a dozen “practical archers” were required. “Practical archers” are archers who can actual ly shoot the bow and arrow. The or dinary extramen just dress the part and hold the bow in their hand. It was part of Powell’s job to find arch ers. Naturally that was apple pie for him. He had only to call up the secretary of his club. He had hardly hung up the receiver before twelv« Elysian archers weie burning up the asphalt on the way to Paramount’s studios. The call was for six o’clock. On account of my great haste I got into conversation with a traffic cop, so I was one of the last to arrive at the studio. When I finally found dressing room No. 9 I thought I had gotten into the wrong place. Here were strangers of dark complexion and few clothes, mostly bearded. One of them, with an evil looking grin on his Saracen face, slapped me on the back and said. “Hello, Reed.” It turned out to be George Parrish. Then I hoard a familiar voice ar guing with the wardrobe person. The voice was putting up a losing fight to retain his pink silk union suit. The dresser upper was very nasty about it. He said that De Mille would nev er stand for Saracen archers in pink silk underwear. So Chester Seay was forced to relinquish his passion ate raiment and don in its place a nice coat of Bole Armenia, which is nothing more or less than a kind of water color paint. At least it goes on with water but it only comes off with time. That is the way the archers were all dressed. Baggy pants surmounted by a broad brass girdle. From the waist up nothing but thin paint, and very cold paint it was. There were two kinds of head dress, turbans and steel helmets. The smart ones grab bed the turbans thinking they would be softer on the top knot, but when miscellaneous projectiles began to thump down among us during the bat tle we dumb ones were glad enough
December, 1936
to have “practical” helmets. Bud Cochem’s tum-tum nestled un der a beard that would have done credit to one of the patriarchs of the old testament and Bud's father, old S. K. himself, was clean shaven and would have easily passed for his grandson. We were also supposed to wear little round shields on our bow arms and some of us were inclined to ar gue the matter with the research de partment but when the cross bov bolts began to rattle down from the top of the battle tower everybody was quick to get the idea and snug gle his face behind the buckler. Thus we took our stand upon the walls of Acre, to do or die for good old Suliman. To my right was E. C. Austin, from merry England and on my left Ray Hodgdon, from merry Boston, all set to give the invader merry Hell. Behind us, silent and glum, against the castle wall stood four sinister figures, professional ex tra men. I wondered why the as sistant director had referred to them as “firemen.” He said something about leaving the space in front of the fire men clear. Fire men my eye. They were nothing but Sara cens like the rest of us, only they didn’t have any bows and arrows but of all things, big thick gloves. Just before the battle it was dis covered that our bows “were not the type.” We had to put aside our good tournament artillery and take up things from the prop room. Some of the genuine Saracen bows had rubber bands instead of strings. How ever, we managed to pick out twelve that were fairly good. They would throw an arrow nearly sixty yards if pointed high enough. Meynard Parker managed to pick off a cross bow man the very first shot, It is true the broad head point was made or rubber but the arrow struck right between the eyes and the man drop ped as if he had been tagged by ma chine gun bullets. That caused some unpleasantness and the arbalisters determined to show us archers that they could dish it out as well as take it. When the director yelled “Cut” everybody stopped action, That is everybody but Jack Frost. He was jumping in the air and slapping his
December, 1936
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bare back as if he had been attacked by a swarm of hornets. It was then that we learned the reason for the firemen, They were there to throw balls of fire, Before them were large metal containers that were filled with wads of burlap that were soaked in some kind of inflammable fluid. When the cam eras started these wads were set on fire and the extra men reached in with asbestos gloves and hurled the wads over the heads of the archers. They landed in the moat below where of course they were extinguished by the water. One of these wads had shed flaming drops upon Jack’s back and caused him to forget that he was a gentle manly Saracen. Even the veteran actors were awed by Jack’s flow of language. I heard the director tell the sound man to save that piece of sound as he thought he could work it into Dante’s Inferno which they were contemplating for their next picture. The war waged till midnight, with long intermissions during which one had a chance to realize the coolness of the night air, especially when they turned off the banks of arc lights
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which were a substitute for the sun in a small way. Then time was called for dinner in the studio restaurant and those who could find the way to their mouths through their whiskers reported that the dinner was excel lent, but the flavor of crepe hair is an acquired taste. Back on the set at one o’clock. If you would like a new sensation just try a coat of Bole Ar menia in the open air at one o’clock in the morning. The castle parapet was covered with thin layers of padding so that crusader and infidel could slay one another and roll about without knocking off too much skin. Many of the archers had draped these pads about their shoulders while waiting for the action to start and thus mus sed up their makeup so they had to be done over by beauty experts. Then on with the picture. The draw bridge was raised and lowered again and again and Richard and his cohorts charged across into a very blizzard of arrows while cross bow quarrels pattered down like hail stones. Warriors shoved one another from the battlements and from the drawbridge into a net that was pre(Continued on page 12)
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The editorial staff wishes you all a Merry Christmas. This being a season of good will, a general amnesty has been declared and all prisoners have been set free until the first of the year. The interval will be used for reno vations and enlargement. We have plans for the future. Big plans. The editor of Ye Sylvan Archer believes that we are promoting the cause of justice in our doghouse. He says that if the staff will go to work and get the material for a fifty or sixty page booklet dealing with the lighter side of archery, he will print it. The booklet, with other optional premiums, to be given free to new subscribers and for renewals within a certain time limit. It will take three or four months to prepare the copy even with full cooperation of our readers. Our artists must see the stories they are illustrating. What we need now is a large numb er of dogcatchers. Any archer who has the courage to tell the truth about his friends is invited to join our staff. They will be protected from due and overdue vengeance by sep arate and luxurious quarters. We need better geographical distri bution. Conceding that Southern Cal ifornia has the largest number of archers who by any known rule be long in a doghouse, how about Cen-
tral and Northern California. Oregon and Washington ? How about New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio. Illinois, Michigan and other strong archery states? How about the South? You can’t tell me that it is fair to parade the criminals from one section of the country exclusively and let the oth ers escape. Ye Sylvan Archer is not a sectional magazine. It so happens that most of our present doughouse staff is from California, and we have to set our own house in order first. We have no monopoly on suitable candidates. Here is a good out For secretaries of archery clubs. The job was wished on them in the first place. I offer them the opportunity to so enrage the other members that a new secre tary will be chosen. A word of warning. Dogcatchers should be careful to pick victims of a sunny disposition and smaller in size than themselves. Close friends are best, they are not so apt to add murder to their other excentricities when they find themselves accused of mayhem when maybe all they were guilty of was wife beating. The edit or’s idea is to hit only friends who can take it, but to hit them so hard that they are sure to come back strong. One way of coming back is by let ters to the editor. I have nearly laughed myself sick over some of these letters that space forbids me to reproduce. In the booklet we can do
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justice to them. No holds barred, but I want to remind the readers that the whole editorial staff is just as guilty as I am. so why pick on me exclusive ly? We will also appreciate humorous short shorts, poetry and jingles to break up the reading matter. We are assured of good cartoons. Cosner, Williams and Bud Cochems will see to that. Won’t you cooperate to make this thing just as funny we know how? Please send contributions to the dog house editor, 9708 South Hoover St., Les Angeles.
LETTER FROM CURTIS HILL So I am in the doghouse, am I? And Ohio flight shooting is a racket and called by vulgar names, is it? You don’t know the half of it on eith er score. Now I am willing to buy my way out of the doghouse by offering you all the substitutes you want. I will rm nut and catch them if it is a deal. (It is a deal, Curt.—The Ed.) And just to help break up the rack et. here are the dimensions you ask for: The 614 yard bow was made out of coarse osagc, three years old. Slightly recurved, length 4' 6", weight 180200 lbs., width 2". Arrows weighed 283 grains and were made out of spruce by my friend “Bud” Pierson, who knows more about flight arrows than I will ever learn. Charles Pierson’s bow featured a novelty that I want to tell you about. We may be on the track of some thing here. It was made up green and when two years old shot 378 yards in 1935 at the Ohio state meet. Next year at the same meet it shot 534 yards and at Battle Creek 563 yards. Is that bow still gaining and what will it do another year? And keep your eyes on Bruce Robertson, he is up to something too. Charles’s bow was the same type as mine but only 1J4" wide, His arrows were, like mine, made by his father. My yew bow is 5' 2" long. Weight 00 80-85 S5 lbs. Recurved at the end. Shot 405 at Ohio State, 428 at Battle Creek and 458 on a measured course since
then, now.
I have better arrows for it
Curtis Hill. TARGET vs. FIELD SHOOTING (Continued from page 5) time is soon coming when we are going to match our skill with the game and lay down the long-range machinery of misery. The present field associations and clubs should be united under one head. The target mo guls would keep on with their yearly program as in the past, and there is no reason why these two organiz ations could not work in perfect har mony. In small tournaments the two sports can very nicely be com bined where facilities are available and where archers are enthusiastic enough to provide for both. A very good example of this is the combined turkey and target shoot held at Rod lands, Calif.. November 20 and 22. I never enioyed myself more than I did there. The Redlands Archery Club wished to stage a turkey shoot which is their custom each year. They very ingeniously invited the Southern California Archery Association to hold its 2nd bi-monthly team shoot at Red lands. Naturally the crowd was as large as could be handled. The tar get people got a big kick out of this variation of their sport and enjoyed the outing to its fullest extent. To illustrate how two separate or ganizations can hold their own pro gram and yet “be friends,’’ I mention the Art Young Club of Southern Cal ifornia. This club invites all the members of the Southern California Association, etc., to join them in a big day of field shooting. The target peop’o turn out because they like it and the Art Young Club members join in the target tournaments for the same reason. While these two organ izations are distinctively separate and different in their programs, they are “good neighbors," and they will always be good neighbors because their interests are in common. As this is a subject that is much talked of at the present time, it will be interesting to hear other archers’ views through the archery magazines. A debate “in print," or a question and answer column in the magazines on this subject will get us all thinking
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YE SYLVAN ARCHER
together in a common cause.
ARCHERS GONE HOLLYWOOD (Continued from page 9)
pared for their reception above the moat. Blood flowed copiously from little bladders of thin rubber that certain of the soldiers wore, with rip cord attached. When the clock struck three we were through. Nothing more but to wash up and go home and, incident ally, receive a nice crisp ten dollar bill on the way out. Next day was the annual tourna ment of the Los Angeles Archery association. Most of the Saracens were there and what a sleepy-eyed bunch they were. We had plenty of alibi, but as for me, I shot the high est score I ever made. Do you think you cuuld get any of that bunch to work in a picture again? 1’11 say you could.
Dr. L. E. Hibbard, archer and member of the Pope-Young Field Archers, of Bums, Oregon, was on the program of the Oregon Wildlife Conference at Corvallis, November 19 and 20. Dr. Hibbard was former ly a member of the Oregon State Game Commission. Archers will be interested in the serial story, “A Thread of Truth,” now running in the Country Gentle man, by our noted archer author, Erie Stanley Gardner, author of “Stump Hunting Stunts” which you have read in this issue of Ye Sylvan Archer.
Classified Advertising RATES for Classified Advertising 5 cents per word per issue. Count initials and numbers as words. Mini mum charge is 50 cents. Stamps ac cepted.
ARCHERY TACKLE HUNTING ARROWS, yew bows, broad heads, quivers, cedar dowels. Wrice for list. Harry D. Hobson, Chemawa, Oregon. SPECIALIZING in Matched Shafts. Paul Leyda, South Oil City, Penn-
December, 1936
sylvania. RELICS AND CURIOS
INDIAN RELICS, Curios, Beadwork, Coins, Minerals, Books. 5 arrow heads, flint, 20c. Flint Spearhead, 25c. 10 Different Foreign Coins, 15c. 2 ancient flint birdpoints 25c. Ancient flint knife 15c. Catalogue 5c. Indian Museum, Northbranch, Kansas. BOOKS AND MAGAZINES “ARCHERY,” by Robert P. Elmer, M. D., revised edition, most com plete book on archery published. 566 pages of valuable information for colleges, libraries, schools, camps archery clubs and individuals. Price $5.00 postpaid. Send orders to Ye Sylvan Archer, Alsea, Oregon.
“ARCHERY TACKLE, HOW TO MAKE AND HOW TO USE IT,” by Adolph Shane. Bound in cloth and illustrated with more than fifty draw ings and photographs. Information for making archery tackle and in structions for shooting. Price is $1.75. Send orders to Ye Sylvan Archer, Alsea, Oregon. THE FLAT BOW—Well illustrated. 50c. — Ye Sylvan Archer, Alsea, Oregon.
ARCADIAN LIFE MAGAZINE “Devoted to Natural Living and Pastoral Contentment” here is a magazine that is cis charming as the Hills of Paradise. It features folk lore, legends, old ballads, tradit ions, homespun philisophy, and pioneer history. Monthly—$1.50 a year; 25c a copy. Four months trial subscription—50 cents. When subscribing for the full year call for the “Arcadian Surprise package”—It’s free to subscribers who pay in advance. ARCADIAN LIFE is a good advertising medium. $2.00 per column inch for display — 4 cents a word for classified—Three insertions for the price of two. Order from: O. E. RAYBURN, Editor Caddo Gap : : Ark. Mention Ye Sylvan Archer when writing to advertisers.
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Craftco Champion XXX Arrows Guaranteed To Your Satisfaction Oar Triple XXX Arrows have never yet failed to increase scores.
ULLRICH WOOD “The Choice of Champions” Folder and price list on request. EARL L. ULLRICH Roseburg, Oregon
HOLLAND - MADE BOW S 6»/2 feet - SO lb. Hand made of Turkish Oak by Willem Engelen, Heeze, Holland Write Winnie McDOUGALL’S Market Dayton, Oregon
9/32 diameter for medium bows. 5/16 diameter for heavy bows.
Price $10 Per D>zen
Craft Archery Co. 1739 S. Main
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HUNTING TACKLE by
Howard Hill Reasonable Prices 1358 Burnside Ave.
Los Angeles, California
KEASEY ARROWS Are making new records. They will help you improve your scores. Equipment for schools and indi viduals. Write for price list. JUST OUT “Modem Methods in Archery,” by Natalie Reichart and Gilman Keasey. A text book for student and teacher. Contains sixty seven illustrations in photographs and drawings GILMAN KEASEY 700 N. 3rd St. Corvallis Oregon
ARCHERY MATERIALS Brass Piles, 5-16 or 9-32 inch, 3 doz. $ .75 Handmade Linen Bow- strings, each .. __ . .60 Lemonwood Bow Staves 1 1-8 inch square . 1.50 Turkey Wing Feathers, .35 (1-8 white) 3 doz . Broad head Hunting Points, niekled, doz. 300 ILLINOIS TACKLE IS GOOD Snappy Yew Bows, latest model, each ... $25.00 Self Arrows, selected to 6.00 match these bows, 1 doz —New Address— ARCHERY MATERIALS G. L. Nichols, Mgr. 439 S. Wahash Ave., Chicago, IIL
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28 Vicente Place BERKELEY. CALIFORNIA
“THE MARK OF DISTINCTION IN ARCHERY TACKLE” Exclusive Mfg’r and Distributor for the Howard Hill Hunting Ar row and the Howard Hill Broad head. Pine Yew Target and Hunting Bows. Rawhide Backed Lemon wood Rows. College and School Equipment. Price list on request Wholesale Retail EARL GRUBBS 5518 W. Adams Los Angeles, Calif.
YEW BOWS For target, flight, hunting and archery golf $8.00 to ? 20.00 ARROWS For hunting, flight and target. Steel dies, feather, nocks and points . Write for 8 page catalog. HOMER PROUTY 1804 N. E. B0 Ave. Portland. Oregon
ACME GLASS BOW SIGHTS Prism & Plano Glass Sight $4.50 Prism Glass Sight ---------- .. $3,50 Plano Glass Sight.............. $2.50 Circular on Request THE H. J. REEB CO. 434 N. 24th St. East St. Louis, Ill.
| PERFECT FLETCHING TOOL $1 00 j All metal, Retches all 8 feathers | at once, fits any size parallel or j tapered shaft, uses stripped or cut I feathers. Satisfaction Guaranteed C. R LOVE j 2231 So. Ogden St., Denver Colo.
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Have you trim me "u OMMEKS SPECIAL” aix foot yew matebed epticed billet*. Standard width. Price *1.00 postpaid. YOU MAY LIKE IT! GEO BROMMERS 9708 South Hoover LOS ANGELES, CAL.