April 1939 by National Field Archery Association

NATIONAL FIELD ARCHERS ASSN.

P O. BOX 333 REDLANDS. CALIFORNIA

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April, 193 9 Corvallis, Oregon Vol. 10

No. 12

Ye Sylvan Archer No. 12.

April, 1939

Vol. 10.

Published the fifteenth of each month for archers by archers 505 North 11th Street, Corvallis, Oregon

Editor

J. E. DAVIS

RUSSELL .JONES ...

Business Manager

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TABLE OF CONTENTS Page ARCHERY WIDOWS By John Willard

FINALS IN OLYMPIC BOWMEN 6 LEAGUE . ............................. OHIO ARCHERY-GOLF TOURNAMENT

EDITORIAL

ARCHERY AT NEW YORK WORLD’S FAIR .'.

S.O.S. TO CALIFORNIA ARCHERS

FIELD ARCHERS OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA By John L. Yount

ARCHERY PUBLICITY By George Brommers .

HOOGERHYDE IN SPORTSCOPE FILM ..._

NEWS FROM LANCASTER z

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Archery Widows By John Willard, Hollywood, California “And you want to go there?” We were at breakfast. There was “As a matter of fact, my dear—I a small pile of mail at my plate. The was thinking—er—er—as a matter gray-eyed war department was pour ing me a cup of coffee. There was of fact—” “If you say ‘matter of fact’ again a certain crystaline precision in her I’ll scream!” movements that suggested repressed “All right. As a— I mean the fact emotions—and trouble. I felt un is—I was thinking—” comfortable—but lots of archers feel “And I’m thinking,” she interrupted, uncomfortable at breakfast. me, “I’m growing tired of being an. “Your coffee, Jawn!” as she handed archery widow! When I married me a cup. I was sure of it. When my you—I thought you were a respect wife calls me Jawn I know there is able sober playwright —and what did a breeze blowing across the target. I get? A golfer! For years all you I took the coffee in silence and waited. did was to play golf and come home “Aren’t you going to read your plastered!” mail?” she inquired sweetly. “But, dear,” I remonstrated. “When “Just bills and ads—fix them up you married me—” later.” I replied with the easy non “I didn’t marry you,” she stormed, chalance I didn’t feel. “You married me!” “There’s a personal letter at the “Have it your own way,” I agreed. bottom of the pile from Mr. Kore T. “We married each other.” Duryee of Seattle. His hobby is archery!” “Well! Well! Well!” I exclaimed with pretended surprise. “From Kore—a splendid fellow, my dear— excellent egg—redoubtable shot! We were together on the same target at the National—until I was pro moted to a lower bracket.” I opened the letter. “I wonder what’s on his mind.” “You should know! You’ve been writing him for weeks. You can’t fool me—I can read your thoughts!” The war department gave me a tri umphant look and waited. < ••■•I “Listen,” as I read his letter. “Kore tells me the Eight Mile Creek will be opened for archers only. Just think of that!” “I’m thinking.” “Gorgeous spot,” as I tried to sell her the idea. “In the northern part of Washington. Thirty miles from Lake Chelan as the crow flies—eight miles from Winthrop—taking in all of Eight Mile Creek from its source to where it empties into the Che wack River.” “So what?” “As a matter of fact,” I sputtered, “Kore writes it’s the finest deer country in the state. Thousands of mule deer—standing around—waiting Corbet (left) and Rastall look the for the broadheads!” situation over.

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The war department deep in her wrongs went on. “And after years of being a golf widow—you suddenly dropped it—and went mad about ar chery!” “At any rate I don’t come home plastered.” “No. You get plastered after you come home! What’s the difference?” Her voice took on a throb of anguish. Oh, Jawn—aren’t you ever going to work?” I glanced at the typewriter in alarm. “Not if I can help it. No fun punching a typewriter.” “What’s to become of us,” she wailed. “Why worry? I’ve paid our next month’s rent. We’re all right. What’s the good of money? If we had any it would be taken away from us.” “But, Jawn! We can’t go on this way. All you think about is archery! There’s work to be done!” “Don’t like work,” I replied. “Never did believe in the dignity of labor— that is, if it can be avoided.” She looked at me a moment. “So— I’ve married a killer?” “A killer,” I exclaimed. “What do you mean?” “All you think about is to go away somewhere and slaughter bucks! Leaving me all alone—while you pin innocent little animals full of those cruel broadheads!” “Now wait a minute,” I protested. “I don’t go away so much.” She started to check off my trips on her fingers. “Listen to some of your trips the last few months. First you went away with Doug Easton to that place in the monutains—named after a clergyman—or a parson—or some thing.” “You mean Bishop. Well, Doug wanted to go fishing.” Her eyebrows arched into half moons. “Fishing? I thought Mr. Easton was a bow maker.” “He is,” I retorted. “One of the best bowyers and fletchers in the country—” “Then why?” she asked triumphant ly, “does he want to go fishing?” I remained silent. Long exper ience with the war department has taught me the futility of argument. “And that’s the reason,” she con cluded with crushing finality, “I think all you archers a bit—batty!”

April, 1939

I groaned. Feminine logic can always mow down the male. She went on. “Then you and Chester Seay went bear hunting in the Siwash Moun tains.” “Not Siw.ash! The Piute Moun tains. For Heaven’s sake get some thing right!” I gnashed my bridge work “Jawn!” Her eyes darkened with tears. “Your brutality is more than I can stand. If you go on being so mean to me I’ll—I’ll,—” “Go home to mother?” I asked hopefully. “No!” She replied firmly. “I’ll bring mother here!” “You win.” “After that you went to Redlands for a shoot and came home with the sniffles. Then you roved around Bakersfield and returned covered with burs like an Airdale.” “Not burs—foxtails.” “Wlhatever it was it took me a week to get them out of your clothes. Then you skipped off to Barstow with George Brommers and Bill Joy and the Wilhelm boys to murder innocent little rabbits.” “I missed a lot of them. Most of them. As a matter of fact all of them!” “And after I nursed you back to health from the jolting you got in that sand wagon—you dashed off to San Francisco for the International!” “The National, dear. The N.A.A.” “What difference does it make?” as she brushed it aside with a wave of her lily white hand. “Let me see —Erma was next.” “Not Erma—Yermo—Yermo in the desert?” “Then the Game Reserve in Ore gon. Every Sunday its the same thing. You get up in the middle of the night to fix your lunch. El Se condo—Pasadena—Rancho—Elysians you’re worse that a travelling sales man—now you’re not going to Wash ington behind the Eight Ball some thing and slaughter deer!” “We’re only allowed a buck apiece.” “It’s a wonder you don’t go to Alaska for a bear hunt!” I started. Great Scott! Could she really read my mind? For some time I’d been thinking about an Alaskan trip— with the right set-up it would be a swell adventure. But the time wasn’t

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ripe to break it to her yet. As I reflected she went on talking, her full contralto trembling with indig nation. “But that isn’t all! Since you’ve taken up archery you’ve turned my house into a wood working shop! Wax—thread—feathers—shavings all over my carpet. Your bow cases— tackle boxes — quivers — littering up the hall! Tools and things all over the chairs. Every time I sit clown I wonder if I’ll be punctured with a broadhead!” “Now, darling—” I tried to sooth her but she went on broadcasting. “Imagine using my kitchen as a glue factory—smelling up the flat! Jawn —I can’t stand it any longer!” “I admit, dear—when I backed that bow with sinew—I rather gummed things.” “Gummed things!” she retorted. “That’s putting it mildly. You ruined my best double boiler making the filthy glue—stuck my washboard full of sinew—got every door knob in the house sticky—and every time I stand in fra'nt of the range—my feet are glued to the floor. Jawn! I won’t stand it!” I couldn’t blame her. I backed that bow clad in a pair of shorts and nearly backed my own hide. It took weeks to peel

the stray bits of sinew and glue from the pink and white body. Never again! “I promise it’s the last time I’ll ever back a bow in your kitchen.” “You bet it is,” she said signifi cantly. Then she dropped into a pathetic key. “Do you realize that you never talk to me any more? You come home after a shoot all tired out, with flat feet and cramps in your fingers. At meals you just sit and munch and think about your archery —never a word to me—oh no—then after you’ve eaten you light a cigar ette and begin to—flitch your jowls.” “Fletch my dowels, dear—please get it right.” “I won’t! I think flitch is just as good as fletch—and I think fletch is the silliest word I’ve ever heard. So there!” She delivered this bit of feminine logic and glared defiantly. I wasn’t getting anywhere toward winning her to my trip. I could see that. “Tell you what, dear;—I promise I’ll reform! I’ll talk to you—tell you all about my shooting—and I’ll try and keep my bows from under your feet. I’ll store them in the closet.” She softened. She even smiled at me. I was on the right track.

Willard (at the right) comes in all fagged out.

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“Oh, that would be wonderful, Jawn! Especially the bows. You’ve no idea how they clatter and slide about. Can’t anyone invent a bow that will stand up without falling down?” “We’ll see, dear,” I replied vaguely. “Now, what shall I write Kore? Can I go?” “Will you promise me something if I’ll let you?” “I’ll promise anything,” I assented. This is supposed to be good technique with the gentler sex. " Promise them anything—if you break it—make them a new one. “Promise me you won’t shoot any bucks with anything but a blunt.” I protested. “You can’t kill a buck with a blunt.” “That’s exactly the reason. How can you be so cruel? Killing those in nocent ilittle deer with their soft velvety black eyes! How can you stand with an eighty pound bow and drive those horrible broadheads through one of God’s creatures just for sport.” A large tear ran down the wife’s pretty nose. I gave her my handkerchief. “We don’t kill for sport. We shoot for food.” “I don’t believe it. That’s only an excuse. You’re a killer. I can see the blood lust in your eye!” “That isn’t lust—it’s my astigma tism.” “Are there lots of deer up there?” “Place is lousy with them.” “Just standing around, waiting for you. You expect to get one?” “Probiably the first day,” I answered rashly. “Bet you you don’t, 1’11 bet you don’t kill one at all!” I arose in all my dignity. “Madam, are you casting aspersions on my shooting?” “Sit down and be yourself. And don’t call me Madam. Oh, I know you can shoot—but just the same I’ll bet you you don’t get one.” I pulled out my wallet. “How much do you want to bet?” “Let’s see,” as she thought a mo ment. “All right. I’ll bet you fifteen dollars!” I put three five dollar bills on the table. “There!” As she grabbed them I said. “Now cover it!” She covered the bills with a plate. I tried to ex-

April, 1939

plain. “No. Cover it with your money! When you make a bet you must produce your money—and—er— cover it. In other words get your purse!” “Oh, Jawn—don’t you trust me?” Her lips were quivering. “Why are you so cruel to me? You’re treating me as if I were a horse or something at the race track. Why, I trust you.” She reached for my handkerchief as she turned on the water works. , “I’m sorry dear—but a bet with me is a business proposition. And that was a screwy bet.” “Oh, you want to get out of it— do you. Well I’ll give you a chance. I’ll bet you don’t even get a shot at one.” “How much?” “Ten dollars.” She put two of my bills on the table. “There you are. Cover it.” I put ten dollars on the table and she grabbed it like a hawk. “Just the amount I needed,” as she folded up the bills. “Thanks ever so much.” “And now—I suppose I may go to Washington?” “Of course, dear,” she purred. “Haven’t I always sacrificed myself for you?” “Then I’d better pack.” I got up. She smiled at me. “You’re all packed, John. I put everything you need in the duffle bag and your toilet things in the grip. Your .boots, sleeping bag—tent—cooking kit are in the car. All you have to do is to get your tackle. Better take a target bow.” “Why?” “You go through Modesto. Why not stop off and shoot a round with some of your pals?” “Anyway I’ll stop and have a nog gin of rum with some of them.” “There are two quarts in the grip. Enough for several noggins I imagine. Now dear, on your way. I’ve fixed a lunch for you—and if you can think of anything else, tell me.” There was nothing else. From long experience both here and while travelling abroad I knew her skill in packing the right things. In a short time I had every thing stored in the flivver. She gave me an affectionate kiss and said. “Now, take care of your self and stay as long as you wish. Bundle up and don’t catch cold.

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Good by—my Polus.” As I headed the jalopy toward Bakersfield I wondered why the devil she called me Polus. The name seemed familiar—but I couldn’t seem to place it. Wjell, no use worrying— it would come to me. My next job was to sell her the Alaskan trip. There was a shoot at Modesto in a day or so. A lot of fellows were coming so I decided to stop and per haps broach a case of rum with, Larry Hughes, Ted Rand and Doc Moreton. I pulled up at a motor inn and got out. The landlord was sitting outside the office eating his lunch. As I got near I saw he was only chewing tobacco. He was a leathery looking individual!—spare, dried out and tired. The only things that moved about him were his jaws, ears and Adam’s apple. He wore no hat and I couldn’t help noticing his head. It was a knobby Osage skull with a few discouraged wisps of hair standing up at different angles. As an amateur phrenologist one thing struck me. His love for home bump —was a dent. I found out later he had married a widow with eleven children. I came to him and spoke. “Hello.” He looked at me as if he didn’t believe it. Then with an effort he replied. “Howdy.” As an after thought he squirted a powerful stream of tobacco juice at a wandering grass hopper, and muttered. “Missed him! But dad blame it I’ll git him yet!” “You are the landlord?” “Yep—I reckon as how I am. Going to stay?” “I expect to meet some friends here. Have the archers arrived yet?” “Archers.” He thought a while then shook his head. “Nope—nobody ain’t come yet.” “Sorry. I was noping they’d be here.” As I turned away he made a big effort and asked me. “How many is they of ’em—coming?” I thought this over a whjile before I answered. “About thirty.” “Big family,” he grunted. “You’re right,” I replied enthusi astically. “Archers are just one big happy family. You should see them at a meeting.” “Well, I ain’t got nobody by that name—not even got. a reservation.” I then realized we were at cross pur-

poses. “Just a moment. When I spoke of archers—you thought I meant archers—as—as a name rather than just archers?” “Yep—reckon I did.” “Well, don’t!” I spoke carefully. “What I meant to ask you was—have any bowman arrived yet.” He went into a mental huddle as he mulled it over. Finally he took a fresh chew of tobacco and answered. “Nope—no one by that name nuther. Last Bow man what was here was Clem Bow man from Joplin. He came out for the climate and wound up the best horse shoe pitcher in Long Beach.” He leaned forward—took aim—shot a stream of tobacco juice at the grass hopper and got him. “Good shot,” I said admiringly. “Ain’t so bad,” he affirmed as he wiped his mouth. “Used to be known as the best spitter in Pike County Missourah. Ain’t so good lately— something’s gone wrong with my re lease.” He opened a book. “Looky. Here’s my reservations.” He ran a finger that looked like the re-curved end of a war bow down the page as he talked. “Here’s one. Cabin—Sat urday night for Mr. and Mrs. Henry Smith. One cabin for Mr. and Mrs. George Jones. Cabin for Mr. and Mrs. John Smith.” He closed the book and spat reflectively. “Never knowed there was so many Smiths and Joneses until I got in this dratted hotel business. Well, live and let live—that’s my motto.” I agreed with him and left him sitting in the sun as I sped my way toward the State of Washington. After crossing the Columbia, I stopped at a small inn by the road side. I entered and took a table. A rather alarming young person wriggled over to take my order. She was the most synthetic blond I’ve ever seen. Her hair must have been a home made job becase it ranged in color from a stainless steel to a mag enta rust. Her complexion was a vivid color scheme and a Cupid’s bow covered a wide mouth filled with ham!burger-<ciiushers. She probably had the suppressed soul of a dancer or a mannequin—she couldn’t stand still—she writhed about, first on one foot then on the other—and each time I looked at her she blushed violently. (Continued on page 14)

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April, 1939

Finals inOlympicBoivmen League The finals have been totaled in the twelfth mail tournament conducted under the ' auspices of the Olympic Bowman League from Seattle. With nearly forty teams competing from Victoria, B. C., to Miami, Florida, this has been the greatest of the twelve annual tournaments. It must be ladies first this time because the ladies bettered four of the six standing records and the men, though doing some remarkable shoot ing, failed to break a single record. The Seattle ladies edged out the ladies from Detroit by a total of 28668 points to 28651, thereby setting a new team high average of 2866.8 and replacing the record of 2812.7 made by the Oregon State College girls last year. The Oregon State College girls were in third place this year with a 27823 total. Belvia Car ter, the star of the Seattle team, had an individual high average of 764.8, just .2 less than Vivian Chambers’ 1938 record of 765. However, Mrs. Carter’s 31 most perfects topped Mrs. Chambers’ 25 of 1938 and her 794 for high single match was 8 more than Mrs. Chambers’ high match of 1938. Mrs. Chambers’ record of 685 golds for the tournament of 1938

still stands, only 5 more than the number of golds scored by Mrs. Car ter this year. Oh, yes, the Seattle team also set a new high single team score of 3016, better than most of the men’s teams could do. The old record, if just a yearling record can be called old, was 2924 made by the Oregon State College girls last year. Just by way of contrast we give a quotation from Robert’s “Book of Archery” (1841) of an archery con test in Yorkshire, England, held on October 1st, 1790: “During the shoot ing which lasted three hours, Miss Littledale hit the gold four times; and, what evinces superior skill, the last three hits made by Miss Little dale were all in the gold.” The ladies, however, shot 100 yards. The Detroit Archers took men’s honors and perpetual cup with a high team average of 3094.8 as compared with Portland Archers 3088.6. The Cleveland Archers made a strong bid in the final match to place third with a 3070.4 average. Seattle and Corvallis placed fourth and fifth respectively. Pat Chambers, national champion, averaged 784, failing to reach Gilman Keasey’s 1938 record of (Continued on page 13)

fl’ < W i o’ The Detroit Archers—{left to right) Fred Bear, Carl Strang, Nelson Reid, Percy Chamberlain, Jack Skanes, Joe Hebert.

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Ohio Archery-Golf Tournament By Dr. Paris Stockdale, Columbus, Ohio

The weather could have been no better; the crowd no finer! Amidst sunshine and warmth, 86 archery golfers participated in the fifth an nual state championship archery-golf tournament, conducted on the new golf course of the Athletic Association of the Ohio State University, Colum bus, March 25-26, 1939. The registra tion eclipsed by 20 players the num ber of last year and was the largest archery-golf assemblage on record. New cities and new clubs were repre sented. Salute the new archery-golf cham pion, William Floberth, Sr., of Cleve land. No one could be more deserv ing: one of the fathers of the game, a hard worker, a sincere friend, a genuine sportsman. With a score of 109 (36 targets), Bill raced a nose ahead of the defending champion, J. P. Schweitzer Jr., of Columbus, by three points. But Bill did not stop there! So confident was he to re-win (and he DID) the bulls-eye trophy that he did not even return it to the officials after having kept it in his possession the past year. Bill had the remarkable total of 32 bulls-eyes. But wait, we’ve forgotten the Wo men’s Division. Another Schweitzer. Along came Miss Frances Schweitzer, Lakewood, cousin of last year’s women’s champion, to win with a score of 134, nosing out another cousin, Patsy Schweitzer, also of Lakewood, who trailed with a score of 139. Too many Schweitzers! No wonder the press gets confused. In this tour nament, five medals went to Schweit zers. W/e’ve told about Frances and Patsy. Then there was Fred, in third place, and Julius Jr., defending champ, in second place, to say nothing about father Julius, in fifth place, who was on the winning club team, the Cleveland club. Sixty-eight fans attended the an nual banquet and business session at the Southern hotel, to enjoy not only a splendid meal, but a varied pro gram which included short talks by H. A. Rider, Department of Conser vation, H. C. Ramsower, Director of

Agricultural Extension, and Miss Dorothy Sumption and Glen Howard, both of the Physical Education de partment of Ohio State University. A feature of the program was the awarding of 14 special prizes, as sur prises, which had been donated to the association. Moving pictures> of hunting and roving parties were shown. Besides the Floberths and the Schweitzers above mentioned, Guy Cooper, R. M. Bruce and H. E. Beach placed first, second and third, respec tively, in class B. Dorothy Stanley took third in the women’s Champion ship class and Jane Felkner, Mary McSweeney and Mary Gay were one, two, three in class B. Bud Pierson won the men’s heavy weight flight, shooting 342 yards. Harry Hartman shot 325 yards in the light-weight division and Irene Hart man won in the women’s division, dis tance 255 yards. New officers elected are Paris Stockdale, president; and E. E. Kim berly, secretary-treasurer. Several vice-presidents were elected repre senting the various districts in the state.

The New York Park department has provided four municipal ranges for the use of the archers of that city.

Ambitious archers from the Pro duction department of the General Petroleum Company at Santa Fe Springs have organized an archery team which meets every Sunday morning at the Whittier College ath letic field. Interest in the new club is growing.

Archers aren’t the only ones who get in dog houses according to Gen eral Petroleum’s “Doings in General.” However, many of the Petroleum boys are also archers. They say there are only twelve months in the year dur ing which young married men should be warned of the dangers of the dog house.

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April, 1939

Editorial but poorly shows the beating taken by his target in the ninth match of the Olympic Bowmen League tournament. He scored 806 out of a possible 810, It sounds trite to say that we are missing the gold just twice in 90 glad to announce that Russell Jones shots at 30 yards. Russell then con of Eugene, Oregon, is to be the new business manager of Ye Sylvan Arch tinued shooting, making 99 consecu tive golds or 104 golds in 106 shots. er. However, we can think of no Readers of Ye Sylvan Archer will better way to express it as we are remember that it was Russell Jones truly pleased to be associated with who went into Hell’s Canyon and Mr. Jones for a number of reasons. proved his ability as a field shot by Firstly, (this is written on Sunday bagging a variety of small game, morning) Ye Sylvan Archer has from rattlesnakes to badgers. Last ______ _______ _ " a needed a business manager for but not least he is one of the famous long time. The editor and publisher has neither inclination no capabili “Blunt Boys” who proved themselves true conservators of game by hunt ties in that direction. Secondly, ing deer with blunt arrows (see De Russell Jones is a gentleman, a true cember issue). Thirdly, Mr. Jones in sportsman and a prince of archers. his regular employment is advertis His ability at the target is evidenced ing manager for the Eugene Daily by the picture on this page which News. He may find himself handi capped in soliciting business by mail v instead of in person but we believe that his unaffected geniality will be noticable in his letters and that ar chers all over the world will enjoy doing business with him as do the business men of the city of Eugene. Editorially, Ye Sylvan Archer will continue as before, a publication de voted to the sport of archery, archery as a relaxation and a pleasure. Ar chery is the diamond of all sports by reason of its many facets of in terest. Target shooting, hunting, archery-golf, roving, old archery books, Indian archery and many other by-paths all lead to relaxation from our too strenuous business life. Some take their archery seriously and may be disappointed in Ye Sylvan Archer I- : because they do not find it a profound source of archery statistics. We feel it is their loss rather than ours if they are missing the lighter side of archery, the human side, the fellow ship with that great group of men and women who thrill to the spirit of the king of sports and the sport of kings. The May issue of Ye Sylvan Ar cher will be Vol. 11, No. 1. As a part of our expansion policy in taking on a business manager and as an anni versary feature the May issue will Russell Jones makes 104 golds in 106 consist of twenty-four pages. The shots. response we receive from subscribers

Introducing Our New Business Manager

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and advertisers will decide whether we shall continue the added pages. Our feature for May will be a story on “Treeing a Stump with Blood hounds” by Erie Stanley Gardner. One of our readers, in commenting on the Gardner story in the November issue, said, “The best story I ever read. That man Gardner should quit whatever he is doing and write for a living.” As most of our readers know, Mr. Gardner took our friend’s advice several years before it was given and his income from his writ ing runs into five or six figures. Mr. Gardner, as the interview with, him in this issue plainly shows, is a great advocate of relaxed archery and does his relaxing from his strenuous work at the typewriter, with bow and arrow. J. E. Davis, Publisher.

■Someone has said that we cannot know what a man is until we see him under stress or excitement. By this standard John Hubler of Alsea, Ore gon, is an ARCHER. John’s house burned recently and when he reached the burning dwelling he had time for just two dashes into the building be fore the roof fell in. The first trip he brought out his bows and arrows and the magnificent set of elk antlers that served as a bow rack. On the, second trip he brought out a small trunk containing personal papers and belongings. All else was lost. Mr. Hubler’s many archery friends sym pathize with him in his loss. New York World’s Fair Archery Tournaments

Our great sport of Archery will be given a real boost at the New York World’s Fair! A Sport’s Forum will be conducted, in the immense Sport’s Arena throughout the duration of the fair. One of the highlights in this Sports Forum will be the ARCHERY Tour naments and demonstrations which will take place every day during the entire month of May. The competition in Archery will take place each day from 2:00 to 3:00 p. m. Daily prizes will be award ed in all divisions, men, women, jun iors and students. All archers competing in these tour-

naments will be given a pass to the fair, thus giving all an opportunity to visit the fair as well as shoot in these unique tournaments. It is planned to have 20 different archers competing each day through out the month of May, making a total of approximately 600 archers neces sary to participate. From the daily scores shot, the twelve high scoring archers will be selected in each divi sion to compete for the World's Fair championship titles on Wednesday, May 31st, when the whole afternoon will be given over to archery. Any archer interested, please send your name and address to the address below, and an entry blank will be mailed to you at once. Myrtle K. Miller 254 Seaman Ave. New York, N. Y.

S.O.S. to California Archers Our bill is ASSEMBLY BILL NO. 854. We know you want to hunt so the least you can do is contact your assemblyman and senator and get his promise of support. Then get in and support the California State Field Archers association. We are trying to build a sound, strong state organi zation and you may have some good ideas. This outfit must be good, and it must be permanent. The whole future of Field Archery in the state depends on it. As proof, here is a part of our bill. The most vital part. “The commission may establish ar chery reserves and may set aside as such a reserve any area within the state, whether within or outside any existing refuge. The commission may discontinue or change the boundary of any such archery reserve.” Fellows, if we are worthy in our actions and in our organization, the sky is the limit. If we are not we will lose everything. John L. Yount. Nick R. Bocker suggests that prac tice is the best cure or rather preven tive for Dirty Arrowosis. It does help to keep the arrows on the target.

The Tambersh elver Bowmen will hold a tournament at the La Tourette ranges in New Dorp, S. L, May 21st.

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

April, 1939

Southern California Field Archers By John L. Yount It wasn’t an Oregon mist and it wasn’t liquid sunshine. It was just plain old fashioned rain that broke up the annual tournament at Pasa dena. It started out by looking like fog. That was just to get the gang started. Then when 89 of our finest got well out on the course, down came the rain. AND THAT WAS THAT. This all hapencd at 10:00 a. m., but believe it or not, at 7:00 p. m. there were 60 still on hand for the banquet and business meeting, many of them still wet. At this point 1 might add a word of advice to the target men. Don’t miss your annua] banquet . It, too, is to be held at the Pasadena athletic club, and they cer tainly know how to put on a dinner. The following officers were elected for the coming year: president, Ed mund M. Brock, who also happens to be president of the Art Young Ar chers of Los Angeles; vice-president, George F. Miles; and for secretary treasurer, Elmer Bidwell. A mighty fine and active group so you can all look forward to bigger and better field tournaments. Future Tournaments The April tournament is to be at Bakersfield, Sunday, the 23rd. The boys promise NO FOXTAIL and a fine course. You will be missing something if you are not on hand. It was decided by the board of governors that, since Pasadena has been rained out of its last two major tournaments, we would try it again BUT that we would wait until our June tournament. It NEVER rains in Southern California in June. This is a very beautiful course, what you could see of it through the rain, and every archer should plan to be on hand next June. New Roving Course Another good pieqe of 'news’ is that the Art Young crowd is build ing a fine new course in the Baldwin Hills. The location is ideal for the purpose and has the added feature of being almost in the center of Met ropolitan Los Angeles. This should

make a delightfully cool course for summer shooting.

What Happened While II Rained Ray Hodgson made three starts be tween showers. He finally succeeded in shooting three targets. Don’t know whether 'he was dead game or Scotch. There were no rain checks. Larry Hughes burned the nocks off his arrows trying to dry them. Earl Grubbs started early and fin ished before the rain. Bill Logg did likewise. Their demand that trophies be awarded the winners was over ruled. One hour later when Harvey Franklin swam in with a real score Earl and Bill shut up. June O’Neil turned in a complete score. Then it was 60 miles to home and dry clothes. What a game, what a game. Henry Bitzenburger, Ray Hodgson and yours truly tugging away to get a canvas over the secretary’s table, only to find the darned thing leaked. Jimmy Miller shooting in his first tournament in several years. In case you don’t know the boy, he is an old friend of Chief Compton and can. handle z*uite a bow. In fact, we have never seen another man who could pull so much bow. The strong odor of wet fur collars in the Pasadena theatres where most of the archers spent the afternoon trying to get dried out and warmed up seemed to suggest that the cats had drug something in. On April 15th, the New York Ar chers are holding a party in honor of Dr. Hickman. The spring tournament of the New Jersey Archery Association will be held at Rahway River park, Rahway, N. J., on May 14th.

The Committee on International Archery of the N.A.A., headed by Dr. R. P.' Elmer, has already arranged, for five international matches for the coming season.

April, 1939

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

Archery Publicity By George Brommers

You may call this an interview, or you may call it an exchange of opinion between exponents of different schools of thought. I was descussing pub licity with Erie Stanley Gardner. “What we need,” I said, “is more of the same. Newspapers—national magazines.—spectacular stories that compel attention. Look at Art Young—” “I am looking,” agrees Erie, “but I do not see the Young you see. You are thinking of the big game archer, I am thinking of the sportsman and the modest gentleman we liked and valued for his own sake, and not for the game he killed or for his press notices.” “But,” I protest, “how would we have come to know the gentleman and the sportsman if we hadn’t been attracted by his exploits?” “You have me there,” admits Erie, “but you still do not get my view point. I believe that. the best pos sible publicity for archery is the plain truth—and Young would have been the first one to admit that hunt ing dangerous big game with bow and arrow is more of a stunt than it is hunting, and no more typical of archery than are the scores shot by our best target shots. 700 American and 900 Yorks are stunts too, and if you are going to strive for the big gest game and the highest scores you will miss the spirit of archery.” “Which is—” I suggest. “Which is,” clarifies Mr. Gardner, “that our American demand for re sults is raising cain with a noble sport. . I do not go out for the sake of killing game, and you do not, nor do any of the real archers I know. Killing is incidental and stressing the the killing for publicity purposes is all wrong. I know what I am talk ing about.” “There was that B. C. hunt. The Catheys, B. G. Thompson and Ed Record are not the killer type. But they were on the spot this time— right. They were big game archers, and they were expected to produce. They did—which was incidental and accidental—what they went out for

was the outdoors and the companion ship. Their hunts have always pro duced very little game, but the hunts are frequent and they are looked for ward to.” “But archery is on trial,” I argue. “You’re damn right it is,” snorts Erie, “ and justly so. We do not want any wounded animals crawl ing off and dying in the woods just to give sport to the archers. I admit that this happens even oftener to the rifle hunters, but two wrongs do not make one light. We should be willing to admit that the rifle is more efficient than the bow—at least if the measure of success is going to be the size of the game bag. And for the fellows who want real danger in their sport—let them go out and spear jaguars with Sasha Siemel. That ought to satisfy their craving for results.” “Speaking of archery being on trial,” continues Erie, “you know how they are watching the woods of Mich igan and Wisconsin for arrow-wound ed deer, and deer is comparatively small game and comparatively easy to kill. Do the archers protest? Far from it; they invite investigation.” “There is British Columbia. The law requires that a licensed guide, armed with a rifle, accompany any party hunting big game with bow and arrow. Did we complain? Far from it. Wje were glad to have the as surance that no wounded animal should escape to die slowly in the woods. That some officious' guide— unfamiliar with the killing power of the long bow—should be tempted to step in too soon, was a risk to be taken, and taken willingly. You’re right. Archery—big game Jarchery— is on trial, and it will stay on trial for a long time.” “I enjoyed that B. C. hunt immense ly. I got no moose—didn’t want any moose.—moose isn’t what I went out after. What I wanted was the even ings by the camp fire in congenial company. I wanted primitive sur roundings, and I got them. The hunt to me was a howling success any way you look at it. And if you think

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

that the rest of the party went out —or would have gone out—purely for the sake of the killing—well, it shows how little you know them.” “You remind me of Forrest Nagler,” I interrupt. “He always in sists that hunting small game with bow and arrow is the real test of an archer’s skill.” “That is what I was trying to get over to you,” insists Gardner. “It isn’t spectacular, but it is archery, and it is sport. You can’t get a lot of publicity—you can’t get hairraising charges out of quail or out of a rabbit on the run, but you feel that the game has had a fair chance, and you go home far better satis fied with, twenty close misses or with one clean kill.” “My candid opinion is that if ar chery rests on such a poor foundation that we must have kills every time we go out, and that we must kill large animals before we are recog nized as hunters, then I—for one— don’t want a thing to do with it. And some of the archery publicity—your

April, 1939

own included—stinks to high heaven. It is distorting facts that do not need, distorting—it invites fourflushing— it is stressing the creed of results. If that is the best you can do, what archery needs is to borrow some writers from the horror magazines— they at least have adequate technique. Go ahead—never mind me—but you take my word for it, if you ever want archery to take its rightful place among the sports the first thing you have to do is to debunk it.” “Personally I think the public is getting sick of reading about the same old charges and the same old slush. What I would like to see is a magazine devoted to the real outdoors —the fundamentals of the outdoors— the companionship of man and man, or man and dog—in short the things we really go out in the woods for. A publication like that may not pay —everybody tells me that it can’t pay—but it has never been tried, and you might bo surprised.” “At least,” I observe gently, “you (Continued on page 14)

V A Weighty Decision

—Cartoon by Cosner

April, 1939

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

Hoogerhyde in Sportscope Film Archers throughout the country are enjoying the sportscope film featur ing the bow and arrow shooting of Russ Hoogerhyde recently released by Pathe. Hoogerhyde’s shooting may well ex cite the envey of rifle and pistol shots. He shoots an arrow into the exact mathematical center of a target, pulls the arrow and again, from his orig inal shooting position, shoots it exact ly into the hole made by the first shot. He plugs out the spots in the five of spades, one after the other, with a certainty that gives confidence to the assistants who hold the targets for him. He shoots from all possible and seemingly impossible positions

Ruas Hoogerhyde demonstrates

with the same unerring accuracy. Such shooting all seems impossible to those of us who find it difficult even to keep our arrows on the tar gets and avoid “dirty arrowosis,” but lends credence to some of the old stories such as that of Robin Hood and the willow wand.

Olympic Bowmen (Continued from page 6) 802.4. Russell Jones of Eugene, Ore gon, batted an 806 for high single match, a remarkable score, but 2 points under Keasey’s 1938 record. Pat Chambers shot 57 perfects and 770 golds to compare with Keasey’s 1938 record of 114 and 862. The Port land Archers failed by 12 points to reach their own 3136 high single team score of last year. Louis Chmura of Cleveland crowd ed Pat Chambers closely for high average with 782.4, Nelson Reid of Detroit was close behind with 779.6, Laurence Belden of Seattle with 777.2 and DeWitt Hawkins of Portland with 776.6 were not far behind the leaders. And, now to give the “Lower Bracket Boys” their inning, the five “high” (?) scorers in the lower third were Harvey Strand wald 682.4, C. C. Neff 681.1, E. H., Braaten 678.7, John Albin 678.4, and Earle Johnson 673.5. The ladies winning lower bracket honors are Kathleen Wheeler 646.8, Ann Lusk 642.3, Margaret Friday 636, Lora Richards 635 and Mrs. A. Hubbard 631.6. Ye Sylvan Archer has a prize for each of these ten archers that we would like to present to them for their meritorious shoot ing and if we can secure the addresses of those we do not now have we shall be glad to mail the prizes. Let’s close with three cheers for Kore Duryee who has borne the brunt of the load during all the twelve annual tournaments of the Olympic Bowman League.

The “Battle of Broadway” for the Indoor New York championship will be fought on Sunday, April 23, under the auspices of the New York Archers.

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

Archery Widows (Continued from page 5) “Well,” I said in a jocund voice, figuring to put her at ease. “Got any good coffee?” mueeuy we we have, nave, ” “Ch, yes, sir.—indeedy she chirruped as sishe bit off the end of her pencil. “‘«Just like mother used to make.” “Fine,” I answered. “Bring me some tea.” “We haven’t any tea—only cawfee. I drink it myself.” “Very well. Give me a cup.” “Java—for one,” she tremoloed shrilly at the kitchen, “and make it snappy.” Then she looked out the window at my car and asked. “I see you’re from California.” “Yes. From Hollywood.” , “Now, isn’t that wonderful!” She brought me over a cup of evil looking coffee and placed it at my plate. “Only goes to show what a small place the world is.” “Just how do you mean that?” I asked dropping a cube of sugar into my coffee to see if it would sing. “I have a brother who is an actor in Hollywood.” She looked at me and blushed. “Maybe you know him.” “What’s his name?” I asked. I then took a sip of coffee and wished I hadn’t. “Otto Whiffet” “Don’t know him.” I lit a cigarette to kill the taste of the coffee. “I know the Whaffles—fine old family —but never heard of the Whiffles.” “Well, Otto got into pictures in the funniest way. You know he was always a fish lover—” „ “Fish lover?” “ Oh, yes. He adored fish. He’d eat nothing else—as a matter of fact he looked like a fish, so maw got him a job in her brother’s fish market in Hollywood. One day a director saw him and decided that Otto was just the type to haunt a cannery in his new mystery film. Well, he made good and now he’s got a regular job as a standin for a ghost. And just think some day he’ll be known as the great haunter of Hollywood.” “And you Miss—er—er—” “Imogene Whiffel.” She then blushed so hard she nearly fell over. “I suppose you also are keen for a career?” “I have got something to give the

April, 1939

public.” She spoke with all modesty. “I’d like to model swell evening clothes and bathing suits. It’s a shame— here, I’ve got a shape like nobody’s business and I know it—but it’s wasted among these wood choppers and bohunks.” She thought a mo ment then sighed. “But I guess it’s no use. I’ll always be just a sheet snapper and a prune wrangler.” She stopped writhing for a moment and looked at the table. “Don’t you like our coffee?” “It’s all right, I suppose,” I an swered as I poked the black thick stuff. “Do you roast this coffee your self?” “No,” she replied, “paw does that. He roasts everything.” Then she weaved to the door with the spineless abandon of a reflexed arrow, and added. “And lots of people say its something to write home about.” Following her suggestion I filled my fountain pen with the coffee and wrote home for a sandwich. (Continued in next issue)

Archery Publicity (Continued from page 12) are nicely started on a lovely and noncontroversial subject.” “I hope so,” agrees the father of Perry Mason, ’’and you may quote me to that effect.”

News From the Lancaster Archery Club Seventy-three archers attended the second annual indoor invitational tournament of the Lancaster Archery Club, Sunday, April 2, 1939. The round was 96 arrows at forty yards. Baltimore Orioles Archers ran up 2701 points for a record today and won the second annual shoot of the Lancasttr Archery Club in competi tion with 17 other teams. The Champions’ total shadowed the former indoor record for the state armory here by 28 points. Runner-up with 2547 points was the United Bowmen of Philadelphia, oldest archery organization in the United States. Baltimore’s second team finished third with 2456 points; Philadelphia men’s first team fourth, 2440; and Lancaster fifth, 2430. ■John E. Magers Jr., Maryland state champion, took individual men’s

April, 1939

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

honors with 702 points. E. F. Cole man from Baltimore was second with 674 points. In the women’s contest, Mrs. Pauline Clark of Baltimore cap tured the high scoring honors with 688 points. Second place went to Mrs. S. Marshall Greason of Carlisle, Pa., with 648 points. Ladies’ team scores were: Carlisle 1,088; Philadelphia 1023; Harris burg 1002. Other team scores for men as fol lows: Sauken first team, Camden, N. J., 2374; United Bowmen second team, 2,268; Tammand, Philadelphia, 2209; Harrisburg, 1922; Carlisle Men’s team 1908; Carlisle second men’s team, 1827; Wilmington, Del aware, 1902; Sauken, Camden, N. J., second team 1721; Philadelphia men’s second team, 1493; Reading, 1426; Clover team, 1250. Oficers of the Lancaster Archery Club are Clayton B. Shenk, president; Mitchell Carrol, vice president; and Mrs. Rose Yamall, secretary-treas urer. The New York Archers now have a membership of 128 with new members coming in each week.

CLASSIFIED ADVERTISING RATES for Classified Advertising 5 cents per word per issue. Count initials and numbers as words. Mini mum charge is 50 cents. BROADHEADS—Make them your self. Select from 4 Swedish clock spring blades by Case, the Broadhead Specialist since 1927. Write for cir cular. Roy Case, S. Main St., Racine, Wisconsin.

SELECT FEATHERS— $1.75 per gross, 1-3 dyed, 2-3 barred, post paid. Stafford, 4333 Cole, Dallas, Texas.

BROADHEADS —$1.75 and $2.00 a dozen. Formerly $3.00 and $3.60 a dozen. Paul Leyda, Archery Sup plies, South Oil City, Pa.

YEW BILLETS —$2.50 and $3.50. Staves $3.50 and $5.00 postpaid. High altitude Yew, well seasoned. Fine dark 10 yr. seasoned Billets, $5.00 Staves, $8.00. Postpaid.—Leon Chapin, Box 139, Albany, Oregon.

BOWS, ARROWS, raw materials, Lloyd Morrison, Lowest prices. Waldport, Oregon. MATCHED ARROWS—Not merely sanded to weight, but matched spine, weight and dimension. Built only as Hobson can build them. Self arrows $2.50 a set. Footed $4.40. Sample arrow 25c. Pair Yew billets, $2.50.—Harry D. Hobson, Salem, Oregon.

BOOKS AND MAGAZINES The Flat Bow—70 pages of Archery information for 50 cents, well illus trated. Ye Sylvan Archer, 505 N. 11th St., Corvallis, Oregon.

Arcadian Life Magazine Tells the Story of the Ozarks Nature, Health, Folklore, pre sented in a charming way. Published monthly in the backhills where the highway meets the by-ways. $1.00 pays for three years’ subscription. Sin gle copy, 15c. Try a classified ad in our Market Place. $1.00 pays for three insertions of your thirty word advertisement. Short Pastoral Poems Wanted O. E. RAYBURN, Editor Caddo Gap, Arkansas

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April, 1939

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

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BACK NUMBERS YE SYLVAN ARCHER Volumes I to V Inclusive $1.00 Per Volume B. G. THOMPSON R. F. D. 1, Corvallis. Oregon Please mention Ye Sylvan Archer when writing advertisers.