August 1942

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1J c llol. 14

(August, 1942

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It’s Fun to Miss!

By Dawson Feathers

All right! I’m going to do it! Erie Stanley Gardner asked for this—or perhaps something better. Anyway he asked for more stories of that cer­ tain type of hunt — you know, the bloodless but memorable kind.

So I’m going to tell about a glorious miss, a miss that to me was more of a thrill than any hit I have ever made.

And, I may add, I have made a few, so this should not be considered just a case of “sour grapes.”

As Gardner so ably pointed out in his “Come on in, the Water’s Fine” (Ye Sylvan Archer, January, 1942), there is often more to be gained from a venture with the bow that is unpro­ ductive of game, than from the sure­ fire, meat-in-the-pot variety.

If you will carefully analyze the motives we all must have for being bow and arrow hunters, I think you will not find among them the desire for concrete, tangible reward. I think you will find that you love the game for itself alone and not because you expect to be paid off in so many pounds of flesh. In stalking big, or wary game, you realize to the full the benefits to be derived from our form of sport.

The anticipation, suspense and muscular tension which always ac­ company a difficult, but successful stalk, combine to induce an exhileration, a sense of having lived so fully, so completely in those few moments, that you seem to have experienced the highlights of months of ordinary existence. And if the shot fails of the mark, and the game escapes, the subsequent slightly exhausted, trem­ bly feeling you have, with its bit of chagrin and disappointment, soon

gives way to the glad thought that he got away—got away free, into his wild, protective haven, there to be hunted again one fine day. As you re-live the events that have just transpired, there is the just, honest sensation of having earned a credit— the feeling that you have, as some one has said, “Put God in your debt.”

You have done your part.

You are self-satisfied.

It is now up to the Fates to pro­ duce your reward, at some good and proper time.

Well, further philosophical efforts to the more capable, and on to the story.

It was early Fall in northern Men­ docino County, California, and the night we drove in among the yellow pines and Douglas firs of the moun­ tain ranch where we were to hunt, it commenced to rain. We sought shel­ ter in an old barn, had a good night’s sleep, and the next morning exper­ ienced the loveliness of the dripping woods steaming in the morning sun.

Soon I caught up two buckets and headed off down the trail to the spring. It was all overgrown. The tall grasses and flowers unloaded their dewy burdens, as I brushed by, soaking my legs thoroughly. I didn’t mind. The sun was warm.

I kneeled down by the pool to dip my water, and there at its edge were fresh deer tracks — big ones — that gave me that back-tingling thrill of expectancy. I cast sharp glances here and there through the trees.

On my way back along the trail, the jays followed my progress, screech­ ing their familiar defiance, as they raced back and forth through the

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oak boughs overhead, but their scold­ ing at my intrusion seemed only hos­ pitable and friendly to my ears.

No doubt there had been uncounted mornings just like this—and would be on through eternity. Still, to me, recently returned from the oppress­ iveness of tropical American jungles, it was so fresh, so new, like a world just born, that I was enchanted. I was thrilled, keyed up and attuned to a primitive alertness, as I felt this re-birth of nature taking place all about me.

The deer season was well advanced and there was no premium on dashing forth, bow in hand, to try for a buck that first morning; so the day drifted by, as we unlimbered our bows, ar­ ranged camp and just woods-loafed.

But the succeeding day, the day of which I would tell, shall remain long in my memory.

I will not dwell on my shot at a small forked horn buck, in the early morning, other than to say that he was too fast for the arrow’s flight, for this story is not of deer. No, this peculiarly thrilling stalk, where­ in the stalked was impelled to do the stalking, was game of the carnivor­ ous, killer species, and therefore all the more intriguing.

I had hunted hard and of course too fast all morning, had missed my buck and was tired and a bit non­ plussed. As I come up over the crest of a high ridge studded with fine big yellow pines and venerable black oaks, I edge forward into the bene­ volent shade of a rugged pine. My perspiration and the shade are cool­ ing, as I lean against its rough­ slabbed bark, rest my bow on my foot and survey the scene before me.

Park-like glades dip down below, bor­ dered by small stands of pine sap­ lings and second growth white oaks, with here and there a tiny Christmas tree pine out in the open. It looks cooler down there, so, less cautious now after my considerable hike, I drop on down to a glade that seems poised on the edge of the mountain.

As I stand there, in the center of this neat, trim little glade, my eyes are drawn off into the distance, where mile after mile of blue tumbled ridges stretch in unbroken glory off to the north and east, their depth of mys­ terious blue an ever-beckoning chal-

August, 1942

lenge to an adventurous heart.

Little chills run up and down my spine, as I feel the greatness of it all. Far, far up toward the head­ waters of the Eel are ridge beyond timbered ridge, all rising in seeming disorder to the silhouetted peaks, dim in the distant haze. Can I make out Mt. Horsehead, North Yolla Bolly, or the Frying Pan? No, it is too far; at least forty miles, airline, from where I stand, to that country I know so well. Forty miles without a road I Forty miles of virgin wilderness!

Probably as good deer, bear, moun­ tain lion and small game country as any in the world. And trout!

Some day, I think, I’ll take a light pack, a good bow and plenty of ar­ rows, a bit of line and some fish hooks, and with a good man and true companion, I’ll seek out the meaning of all that blue mystery stretching away before me. Some day I’ll . . . some day ....

I sink down on the sparse grass, my mind far away. As I set aside my bow and slip off my quiver, all ac­ tions are mechanical. The pungent mountain tarweed, taller than the grass, is of beloved familiarity, and its odor fills my nostrils, as I breathe deeply. I unstring my faithful bow.

It too, must have a rest. This is the time to unstring it. Not while I am walking. If I get a shot now, nine chances out of ten I’ll have plenty of time to string it before I am observed by the game. So I unstring it, while sitting there, then strip off my shirt, for a sun bath.

I have been lying there some time, probably have dozed off, when the sun becomes so warm, I rise up to enjoy the cool breeze, blowing along a few feet above the ground. As I sit there luxuriating in being alive, a movement catches my eye. Down at the lower end of the glade, it is. As I focus my attention there, a greyishbrown shape slips out from the cover of a small group of white oaks. By its size and color I take it to be a coyote but, as a patch of open sun­ light is crossed, I can see the tell tale high haunches, black-spotted legs and stub tail of a bobcat. He disappears into the red and green cover of a small patch of manzanita. The dis­ tance is easily 150 yards.

Can I possibly approach this spot-

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YE SYLVAN ARCHER

ted killer, flush it from the manzanita clump and get a shot? Probably not. The ground here is surfaced with fine, granite gravel, the cover for me is poor, and the game is just about the keenest eyed and eared in this part of the country — and the wariest.

Well, of course I have read Dr. Saxton Pope, and have tried the sim­ ulated rabbit squeals described by him, with which the Indian, Ishi, called up predators so successfully.

But heretofore my efforts have evok­ ed nothing more than dismal echoes from the fastness of whatever woods I practiced on.

Nevertheless, I decide to try again.

At least, this time I will be able to observe the phenomena, if any. So, still sitting upright, I kiss away on my fingers, producing enough multi­ farious squeaks and squeals to send every living thing scurrying afar. But soon there is action, and of the right kind. The bobcat steps into view from the manzanita and looks intently in my direction, causing me to freeze in position. Although I am absolutely in the open, well out toward the cen­ ter of the glade, with no screening but the foot-high tarweed, he is nev­ ertheless unable to determine what manner of strange being I am. The sun is behind my back. Perhaps that accounts for it.

With my hand on my lips, I try a few more squeals. Deliberately, the cat walks straight toward me, crosses a shallow wash, and then, veering off, enters the protective fringe of secand-growth white oaks at the lower edge of the glade. The distance is now shortened 40 or 50 yards. More squeals. Another slow advance to­ ward me, still keeping to the edge of the glade, in the cover; wary, smart and cautious as only a cat can be.

But don’t forget that curiosity business!

He stops definitely at about 80 yards, sits on his haunches in the shade and stares at me. From my elbows, I lower myself slowly, tense­ ly, flat on my back. My breath is coming fast and I can feel my heart pound. My neck aches from holding my head back as low as possible, so I relax a few minutes.

When I raise my head, the scene is unchanged. I can see the tufts on his

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ears, as he sits like an image, staring at me. I am certain he has me cata­ logued and is ready to run, but no, he moves forward, interested now in something much nearer him.

The smooth, stealthy grace of the bobcat’s movements are wonderful to watch, as he stalks some small prey. It is probably a gopher or ground squirrel, out in the open, that way.

I breathe easier, but now have a rival for the cat’s interest. I squeak some more, but he sits there inter­ minably, it seems, with infinite pa­ tience for his own private hunt and utter indifference for my efforts.

Possibly ten minutes pass in this manner. It seems like an hour, and I am about ready to chance a desper­ ate shot. Mayhap it is only 70 yards.

Even that, though, is still far, far too far.

While thinking along these lines, I string my bow lying down, get out three sharp broadheads, and put on my wrist guard and finger tips. The shadows from the ridgetop have reached out over me, now, adding considerably to what conceal­ ment I have.

With the next few squeals, given in desperation, the bobcat leaves his lit­ tle game and starts off up through the oaks. His course is at right an­ gles to me and I am sure the jig is up.

I rise up and half draw on him, but there are too many sapplings, so I sink back and wait, for there is no alternative. As I lie there, eagerly visualize his probable route, hope and frustration possess me in rapid succession. Each time he veers my way, I crouch down and grip my bow fiercely. Then as he heads away, I relax carelessly, easing my aching muscles while I watch. When the bobcat has reached an elevation op­ posite me, about 50 yards away in the trees, he turns directly toward me, takes a few more steps and stops.

I squeal some more, but not so loudly now, from my position, very low in the tarweed, whence I can just see him. My brown torso and pants must blend well with the background, for I see him start once more in my di­ rection !

I am down now, not daring to peek, for I fully expect a shot, as I am now convinced he is deliberately stalking me. Between us, as cover for the (Continued on page 6)

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August, 1942

Blunts from the Old Stump By the President

The Southern California Archery Association has decided to add. field archery to its association activities along with target archery. We are immensely pleased to see this large, active and one of the leading target associations of the country, take this progressive step. More and added archery activities mean increased and more active membership. This is the trend of all “go-getter” archery clubs, local and state. The SGAA and the Elysian Archers have secured the permission of the Los Angeles Park Commission to use a part of Griffith Park for a field course. A twenty­ eight target course will be built at once. Griffith Park is a tremendous piece of hilly ground at Los Angeles, largely undeveloped and ideal for field archery. It is near the Walt Disney studio.

On the fifteenth of September, the Board of Field Governors will elect a President and Vice-President for the NFAA for the next two years. At the same time, National Committeemen will be elected to represent the four geographical sections of the United States for the Executive Com­ mittee as follows: The Western sec­ tion will elect a committeeman for four years, the Northern section, a committeeman for three years, the Southern section, a committeeman for two years, and the Eastern section, a committeeman for one year.

The Executive Committee has prepared a list of candidates for the various of­ fices which will be submitted to the Field Governors for their election.

The officers and Executive Committee will take office on November 1, 1942.

At that time, the Secretary-Treasurer and President will present a written report of the year’s activities of the NFAA, which will be published in Ye Sylvan Archer.

The game seasons in the several states will soon be opening. Thous­ ands of archers will be hunting big game with the bow and arrow. Last year, many archers who shot big game with the bow, made application for the Art Young Big Game Award, but, unfortunately, could not be

awarded this coveted medal because they were not members of the NFAA. If you are planning on a big game hunt this year, be sure and check your membership and that of all members of your hunting party. The Art Young Big Game Award is only given to members of the NFAA in good standing.

Non-resident archers can hunt for deer in Wisconsin and Michigan for a $5.00 license fee in each state. Both of these states have a bow and ar­ row deer season in advance of the gun season. For information, write the Conservation Commission, Mad­ ison, Wisconsin, or Lansing, Michi­ gan. Allegan County in Michigan will again be open to Michigan arch­ ers for either buck or doe. This is virgin territory opened up for the first time last year and where about half of the deer in Michigan were shot with the bow last year. This territory was not open to non-resi­ dents last year, but we are trying to get them that privilege this year.

However, there is plenty of good hunting territory not only in Michi­ gan but also in Wisconsin open to bow hunters. Archers in other states should notify, as soon as possible, the YSA or the NFAA of any change in their bow hunting laws for this coming season.

The NFAA will, undoubtedly, pub­ lish a Field Archery Handbook in 1943.

We would like suggestions from all archers as to what they would like contained in next year’s book. Give us your ideas for im­ proving the book so that we will have plenty of time to prepare the mater­ ial. Please write the secretary.

The Richmond Archers Club, R. C. Thompson, secretary, Box 109, Glen Allen, Virginia, are going after their state for better hunting conditions for field archers.

Virginia archers, please contact Thompson.

The Framington, Massachusetts, Archers have found it necessary to modify their field course in order to avoid certain installations on Govern­ ment property. They have added a second unit to their field course and

August, 1942

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

now possess a fine, standard NFAA twenty-eight target range.

The NFAA Handbook on field archery is continuing to secure an enthusiastic reception by the expert as well as the novice.

Reinhold Peters of St. Louis, Missouri, says, “I still think the book is worth many times the price and the information it contains is so necessary for a begin­ ner in field archery.” W. D. Penny of St. Paul, Minnesota, says, “It was well worth waiting for.” The Sec­ retary still has some handbooks on hand. If you know of field archers who do not have a copy, you will not only be doing them a great favor if you present them with a copy, but you will also help to expand the cause of field archery. Send their names and addresses to the Secretary with remittance.

We have contacted a new archery club at Monmouth, Illinois, V. F. Barnes, 200 E Broadway, secretary, who wants to know more about field archery.

They will build a field course and wish information and help, which we have furnished. There is also a new field club at Pocatello, Idaho, Viola Cuoio, 134 N Fourth Ave., secretary, Jerry Hill of Boise is helping to organize. We wish the best of luck to these new clubs.

Frederic A. Kibbe of Coldwater, Michigan, has enlisted and has gone to the Officers Training School. He just had to get into the fight. Fred has owned and operated the Wolver­ ine Archery Company for nearly 25 years, since 1918, and is closing a prosperous archery business, employ­ ing 25 people, for the duration, be­ cause he could not resist the patriotic urge to get into active combat. Fred said, “When we close, we will have approximately 60 days production in orders to turn back as we are over­ crowded now. I am not worrying about archery business in general ceasing, as there will be ways to con­ tinue. However, I wanted to get in this mess and can’t see any course but to close down.” Government pri­ orities on steel, and perhaps other materials, will present a problem to our tackle manufacturers, but they are capable enough to find suitable substitutes and are already meeting the situation. With the increased interest in local archery and Nation-

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al Mail tournaments developing all over the country, the manufacturers are going to find plenty demand for their products, and they will find a way to fill the demand with substi­ tutes where priorities affect vital war materials. One Chicago manu­ facturer has already designed points that do not contain steel or iron and are now on the market.

Dr. Delmar Pletcher of Bakers­ field, California, one of the highranking NFAA archers, is now sta­ tioned at Salt Lake City, Utah, and is shooting with the Utah archers.

Jean Trittin is opening the only ex­ clusive archery retail store in Salt Lake City in a downtown location, with a shooting range in conjunction.

Fred Rumplik is stationed at Camp Lee, Virginia, but is still keeping up his NFAA contacts.

Hundreds of our archers are now in service and want to know what is going on in field archery. Won’t you write us what you and your club are doing, so that we can pass the news on to our field archers in and out of ser­ vice?

We note that Walt and Ken Wil­ helm put on their act at the Sports­ men’s Show in San Francisco the last week in June and have also been mak­ ing other Sportsmen’s shows. There are few who can match the uncanny accuracy of these brothers at close ranges. We recall how we were ca­ joled to stand for Ken and let him shoot the ashes off a cigar held in the mouth. But never again! Even the best are bound to slip sometime.

Stunt shooting is 0. K. but human beings should not be any part of the target. The last time we saw Ken’s show, he had eliminated the human target and his show was just as en­ tertaining. Ninety-nine per cent of the audience were satisfied, and who cares about entertaining the one per cent who go and hope to see a miss!

Legends of Robin Hood and others who could split an arrow at 100 yards are mild compared to the tall tales Hansard tells in his book on archery, especially the one about the ancient warrier who was so good with the bow that he would let anyone shoot broadheads at him from a distance.

No matter how accurate the shot, he was never hit, because he would note the flight of the approaching arrow,

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YE SYLVAN ARCHER

then quickly draw his bow, release his own arrow and hit the approach­ ing arrow in midair, so both arrows would fall harmlessly to the ground.

You will need plenty of practice if you are going hunting this fall. Why not enter the mail tournaments We shoot for the fun of it and not be­ cause we expect to win any medals.

Get in on the fun and send your scores in to the Tournament Secre­ tary.

IT’S FUN TO MISS (Continued from page 3) bobcat, there is just a five yard patch of short brush, off line a bit, and a depression in the glade, on the direct route to me. Will he come around the brush patch, or will he head directly for me through the low place? I guess the low place, nock a broadhead, crawl a few crawls toward there, and lie on my side, lower leg doubled be­ neath me.

Remember, I am right in the open, no worthwhile cover at all. I must stay down until the shot. When shall I chance it? My blood is racing, my nerves are not like iron, but my wits are sharp and clear. Now! Now! He must be close by now!

Bow gripped, draw started, mus­ cles tense, I slowly lift my head, look­ ing toward the brush. From the cor­ ner of my eye, I see the top of his head, in the other direction. It stops.

My eyes swing around and meet his, as I draw. I can see the yellow of his eyes, his white whiskers, the fluff of his cheeks. I hold for his narrow chest. . . .

Well, there you have it. You al­ ready know I missed.

Something wrong with the loose, or cramped muscles or something. The arrow sliced the air past his left shoulder, and he dashed away with almost the speed of the shaft. I stepped it off.

Twenty paces. Missed a good sized bobcat at twenty paces! But after all, the chest was narrow (four inch­ es). On a broadside shot I would have scored a hit, probably have killed him. It wasn’t really such very bad shooting, etc., etc.

I don’t know, I may be an unusual individual, but with me it’s like this: On such an occasion, when my pros­ pective prey is disappearing on fleet

August, 1942

heels (or toes), I sort of laugh in­ wardly with a kind of mental “Go, you little so and so, I’ll get you next time!” It really tickles me just to think that I have fooled him in his own back yard, as it were. I take more satisfaction in the thought that I have outwitted the game, than I would in the consideration of a hit.

Hits are messy. Even good ones.

They are much more neatly done on a roving range. If I had needed the hit, in order to eat, that would have been different. But we don’t go hunt­ ing in order to eat, nowadays. That’s what we have civilization for— or at least, that’s what it’s supposed to be for. Sometimes I wish we all did have to hunt, in order to ... . But that is another story.

Now let’s not kid myself, let alone others. It would have been a fine trophy of the the chase. Yes, to have killed that bobcat, face to face, in broad daylight, with my hand-made weapons, powered by my own two arms, in the freedom of his environ­ ment, with no aid from man or beast; that would have been quite an achievement—or good luck! As it was, I had the achievement without the luck. And I truly believe that I will look back with satisfaction and pleased gratification on that incident for the rest of my days. God is in my debt, for I worked hard and skillfully without tangible reward.

And now you—all of you archers who love to feel the pressure of the bow on your hand, the tug of the string on your fingers, and the ecstat­ ic leap of your heart, as it follows the arrow’s flight into space—go you likewise; get down to earth, literally; feel the play of your tense muscles, as you stalk, in primitive fashion, the game of your choice; play the game for the good it does you, for the thrills you get, the health you gain; and last and most important, for the fine memories you may cherish for­ ever.

The seventh annual tournament of the Pope-Young Field Archers of Oregon will be held near Alsea on September 6 and 7, 1942. Headquar­ ters will be at the Alsea Guard Sta­ tion one mile west of Alsea. Added attractions will be a fine swimming hole and two good fishing streams.

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August, 1942

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NFAA Bulletin OFFICERS President—A. J. Michelson 610 F. P. Flint Bldg.. Flint. Mich.

Vice-President—Paris B. Stockdale, Univ, of Tenn., Knoxville, Tenn.

Secretary-Treasurer—John L. Yount.

Box 383, Redlands. California.

EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE Western—H. C. MacQuarrie.

3400 Fruitvale Ave., Oakland. Calif.

Mid-Western—Fred Bear, 2611 W. Philadelphia, Detroit, Mich.

Eastern—T. C. Davidson, 53 Mountain Ave., Springfield, N. J. Southern—J. C. Trittin, 150 S. Temple, Salt Lake City, Utah.

By John L. Yount Here is what a medical magazine (Health, a Doctor’s Magazine for Everybody), has to say about play. r> —i :* js a fjne ansWer to that Read it. serious minded neighbor who thinks that any person who takes time to play when the world is at war is a slacker.

You know the kind I mean.

They think that every waking hour should be used for hard labor or serious thought.

“Play has been by turns associated with sin and with laziness. The Pur­ itan notion of play died hard. Per­ haps its association with laziness was merely an outgrowth of the Puritan idea that ‘Satan finds some mischief still for idle hands to do.’ The notion was abroad that if children played when they were little, they would play when they became adults. And that was a serious thing!

“Instead of leisure being thought of as the antithesis of labor, we are now regarding it as the complement of labor. The average man works forty hours a week in normal times; he sleeps fifty-six hours; he has sev­ enty-two hours left for leisure time.

It has been said that ‘our national

reservoir of leisure time may be es­ timated to three hundred ninety bil­ lion hours per year.’ What men and women do with that time becomes a problem of national scope. In his seventy-two hours a week an individ­ ual may accomplish things. He may develop his hobby. He may continue his more formal education. HE MUST UTILIZE THE TIME, OR SOME PART OF IT, FOR GENUINE RE­ CREATION. IF HE HAS LEARN­ ED TO PLAY HE WILL KNOW HOW TO SPEND THE TIME WISELY AND PLEASURABLY. “In the light of these facts, learn­ ing to play in one’s youth may mean having at hand the capabilities of re­ taining one’s health in later adult­ hood. In view of such a possibility, part of play should be the develop­ ment of games which one can play in adulthood.

EVERY ADULT SHOULD KNOW AT LEAST ONE GAME HE OR SHE CAN PLAY, AND THAT GAME SHOULD BE ONE THAT CAN BE ENJOYED IN THE OPEN AIR.” The article closes with the follow­ ing statement: “Play is certainly man’s normal way to health and not many these days regard retaining health as sinful.”

I just received a letter from Karl Palmatier, our tournament secretary.

He says he just finished cutting 57 loads of hay, 20 acres of wheat and (Continued on page 13)

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YE SYLVAN ARCHER

August, 1942

Ardjrr Official Publication of the National Field Archery Association Published the twentieth of each month at 505 North 11th Street, Corvallis, Oregon.

J. E. Davis........ Editor and Publisher Subscription Price ..... $1.00 per year Foreign Subscription .... $1.25 per yr.

Single Copies ........................... 10 cents Back numbers of those issues still available may be secured for $1.00 per volume in complete sets, or 25 cents per copy for special numbers.

Advertising Rates on Application Second Class Mailing Privileges ap­ plied for.

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HERBERT ALVIN JONES Flying Cadet Herbert Alvin Jones was one of three army flyers who were killed late Wednesday in separ­ ate accidents of two training planes from Minter Field, Bakersfield, Calif.

Cadet Jones, 22, was the son of Mr. and Mrs. Russell Jones of Eu­ gene, Oregon. He enlisted in the army last December and was trans­ ferred to the air corps. For the last two weeks he had been at the basic training school at Bakersfield.

He was flying a training plane with Lieut. Stewart T. Smith, flying in­ structor, from Manteca, Calif., when the crash occurred. Another training plane, flown by Flying Cadet Paul C. Averill, Jr., Boulder, Colo., crash­ ed on the same field within half an hour of this accident.

Announcement of the tragedy came in an Associated Press report from Lieut. James A. Lewis, Minter Field public relations officer, who said no cause for either accident had been as­ certained.

The flying cadet was a star bas­ ketball player at Eugene high school during the 1937 and 1938 seasons and was a member of one of Coadh Fritz Kramer’s “Purple” state tournament teams. He played independent bas­ ketball here for several years.

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Herbert A. Jones

He was graduated from Eugene high school and was a student at the University of Oregon. He was a member of the Methodist church.

Herbert is survived by his par­ ents, Mr. and Mrs. Russell Jones, 259 Second avenue east; one sister, Bette, at home, and his grandfather, John Love, Newberg.—Eugene Reg­ ister-Guard.

“Bud” Jones, as he was affection­ ately called, was an enthusiastic field archer, being a member of the PopeYoung Field Archers of Oregon.

“Bud” was one of the first, if not the first, Oregon archer to give his life in the service of his country in this war. The death of this fine, promising- young man brings home to us more than ever the seriousness of the war and the need for us to strain every effort to bring, it to a speedy conclusion. At a time like this we wish for words that might be some consolation to the griefstricken family, but words seem so impotent and we can only express our sincerest sympathy.—Editor.

August, 1942

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

fetter RoX More Letters from England From letters to Mr. Harold A. Tit­ comb from Jack Flinton, Scarbor­ ough, England, and from Miss Chrystine A. Philips, Hereford, England, Editor of Archery News, we publish the following interesting comments:

Dear “Uncle Hat”: It was grand to read about our “bow buddies” both in the States and on this side from your letter. That week’s trip to Florida certainly made my mouth water, and I would have enjoyed being with you all. Sounds good, too, that First Field Shoot of the United Bowmen of Philadelphia.

It is nearly three years now since we had an archery tournament. I hope it won’t be so long before they start again. But we have taken on the job of cutting out the venom and gan­ grene from the world and so — one thing at a time!

Haven’t shot an arrow for ages, but like to “paw” my tackle over, and dream awhile. Fixed up a youngster or two with odds and ends to “keep the ball a rolling.” The kids are as keen as ever for the bow, notwith­ standing all the by guns, the rifles and the Tommy guns, so much in the public eye. Weird bows cut from trees or hedgerows (drawn from the wood!) with willow or hazel shoots still fly about as much as ever.

One has only to carry a fistful of arrows about and listen to the ejacu­ lations, the comments and the ques­ tions about them to realize this. The spirit of archery will always remain with us. I often wonder if the other youngsters of Europe play with the bow as our two countries do. Can’t recollect ever having seen them when I’ve been abroad.

I was delighted to receive the Handbook of the National Field Arch­ ery Association. It is a very sensible size, being so handy for the pocket.

Believe me, it has already been well thumbed and read often, accompanied by sighs like a punctured tire emp-

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tying! Many, many thanks for your thoughtfulness. I think the badge of the NFAA a grand one, and, in the form of a button worn in lapel of coat would be a certain sure introduc­ tion to any other brother archer.

Sylvan Archer and American Bow­ man-Review came at the same time as your letter, and I’m taking them with me to my group headquarters, where I shall be on “stand by” duty overnight until breakfast time. Am already tired now as the “Banshee” had moaned in the wee sma’ hours, so missed a couple of hours sleep with a broken night’s rest. Still, who cares, as long as everyone is safe?

Remember me to any of our mutual friends. If you see Cash Styles, Forrest Nagler, or Dr. Klopsteg, or any of the fellows who experiment with bow building, pass on this idea to them. Ask them if they have ever tried backing a bow with horsehair, preferably from the tail. It is used on violin bows, so should be easily ob­ tained. I think it’s worth following up. , ..

Vv eil, time marches on, and I must Well, be off, so cheerio and the best of luck to you and yours.

Yours sincerely, Jack Flinton.

From Editor Archery News Dear Mr. Titcomb: Thank you so much for your long letter, including so> many items of English archery and personalities,, a veritable budget! It seems eerie curious that my news of our .archers should be collected by you and returned to me from America! But I assure you that it interests me to hear about them. We have so little time to write nowadays.

First, I will thank you for all the copies of the Sylvan Archer, the American Bowman-Review and the American Archer, all of which come very regularly. Thank you also for the Official Handbook of the NFAA, safely to hand.

As I go to London this week, I hope to look in at the Tox on Wednesday— they are shooting that day, so I may see a few archery friends. Very few are able to get there in these busy days, and no petrol!

Am now hunting around for a pony

10

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

and trap, as Hereford City lies one and one half miles away and it is too hard work carrying all one’s par­ cels back on foot — also a waste of time.

Transport is diminishing; shops have “pool deliveries.”

It might have begun sooner and saved petrol.

Yours sincerely, Chrystine A. Philips.

ARCHERS WELCOME AMERICAN SOLDIERS Copy of letter to Captain Cassius H. Styles, Berkeley, California, from John H. Davey, who lives in Lincoln­ shire. Davey is one of the best arch­ ers in England and has held the British championship. He served all through the Great War where he was badly wounded in some of the most desperate fighting. He comes from the region of Sherwood Forest, his letter has the spirit of Robin Hood and his Merry Men, and all Amer­ icans, whether archers or not, will appreciate his delightful and friendly letter.

Selborne, Thornton Abbey, Ulceby, Lincs., England, June 28, 1942.

Dear Capt. Styles: I write this letter with the object of letting you know the most possible in the smallest space. This is Sunday afternoon. My Platoon did a com­ munications exercise this morning (which we called “Yank”), this even­ ing a church parade, and after that at 20.00 hrs., 2 of our airforce and two of yours are coming here to shoot with the longbow.

Three weeks ago we watched your men get off a train at one of our ru­ ral stations. A week ago I was in a wood with one of our Home Guards cutting two 30-foot flag poles (one for the Stars and Stripes, the other for the Union Jack). When we came out of that wood we found 5 of your boys trying to make a fire to cook some steak. We helped them through with the fire and the steak, spending a very enjoyable, innocent, and friendly time with them.

For a week past we have been pre­ paring our Company sports, in which your boys were asked to join, and last evening these sports took place.

Your American heart, and all other

August, 1942

Americans, would have been stirred and satisfied if you could have looked on and seen how your boys were re­ ceived. I don’t think they felt they were in a foreign land.

The show started by our bugler sounding our Regt, call, and an ATS band sounding Reveille, when an American hoisted the Union Jack and a Home Guard the Stars and Stripes.

Then we sang “God Save the King” and your boys the Star Spangled Banner. Your boys did this without any preparation, and I could not help but wish all their mothers, sisters, daughters, wives, and sweethearts could see their beautiful, earnest faces, as they got through this very difficult song in a manner which would do credit to many better pre­ pared organizations.

The high jump and the tug-of-war were, I thought, the high spots so far as America was concerned. You had four very attractive chaps in the jump, and one tied for first place with one of our Home Guard boys.

Your man stood about 6 feet 2 inches and was the general favourite of the crowd, who cheered his every success, and moaned aloud when he failed, he being a very modest looking chap, with a real he-man set-up, and looked as if he might be a product of one of your universities, and as if he might be worth a million dollars. Apart from the last named, he appeared to possess all the assets most attractive to the average crowd.

Your tug team said they averaged 185 lbs. per man. I can well believe this as I was in the team pulling against them. Our platoon needed badly the points for the tug, and al­ though we recognized the privilege of taking on America, we couldn’t help being pleased that we won the toss for privileges, which gave us a slight advantage of ground. We had a tough farming team, a little lighter than your boys, and having two pulls to their one with a slight advantage of ground in our favour, we beat them. My second in com­ mand was very hoarse this morning through yelling orders at us. After we got through with your chaps we had another Home Guard team to pull, and a team of regulars, beating both. I felt by the time we got through that I needed a coffin with

August, 1942

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

a Union Jack over it, but I’m quite fit today in spite of the 49 years, etc.

The sports included eleven events for which points were awarded, and the six Platoons in our Company were competing. Our Platoon got the cup by a small margin, and on this morn­ ing’s parade they all felt (L got this impression) like gladiators. When the sports were ended, your 6 foot 2 inch jumper hauled down our flag and a Home Guard did the same for your Stars and Stripes, the bugler (my 14-year-old son incidentally), sounded Retreat. Same bugler and son now gone swimming, singing all the time The Star Spangled Banner.

I believe your chaps are settling down to their life here. At first they walked about the roads half the night, but camp life soon gets into a routine, and your fellows seem to ap­ preciate our people (especially the, girls) and I have never heard any­ thing so far of any discord. Affairs such as last evening do more to make beautiful future memories, than per­ haps less intimate shows in big cities.

These sports took place in a green field near a small village (the cows had just been turned out of the field, and didn’t we know it!).

We are having quite a nice summer, although it was cold when your boys first arrived, and they felt it badly, but our crops look very well. One of your men coming here this evening is a farmer from — I’ve forgotten where.

I am hoping that my sister and my wife will be shooting this evening, and I’ll promise when I shoot your grand arrows to think of you. “The Bow and Arrow for Big Game” was sent to me recently by Forrest Nagler, thanking me for being kind to a Canadian (W. J. Harris) and of course your photo and other mention of you are in it. I must write to Nagler, but it is difficult to find time for anything. What stirring times we live in. All best wishes to you and yours.

John H. Davey.

Boston, August 11, 1942.

Dear Friends: Thank you both for the wonderful honey I am taking home to my wife and daughters back in England. As you know we are not allowed to men-

11

tion names of ships, etc., but I can go so far as to say I am an English Chief Engineer on a freighter and keeping the life line open from you to us during the war. I have been 17 times across the Pond—and what a pond. I have, Thank God, up to now gone safely through this war and the whole of the last and even got so far as Capetown in the Brit­ ish Boer War in 1899-1902. So al­ though I celebrated my 58th birthday on the 8th, I have done my bit for my Country.

I have a wonderful wife who not only does all the housework in an 8room house and gets in all the food, standing in queues for hours to get something tasty for my 2 daughters who are at business all day, and in her spare time manages to be Registar of the WVS, honorary secretary of a large hospital, honorary secre­ tary of the Moral Welfare, on the Church Council and representative on the Diocesan Board and attending meetings in connection with all these activities, and still finds time when I get home to devote all her time to me.

I have two very fine daughters.

They are both married. We got a tremendous shock one day in 1940.

At 8:15 a. m. we got a telegram to say one of the Boys was missing. At 8:15 p. m. another wire to say the other one was killed in action. I happened, to be at home at the time and you will know if you have any family what an upheaval it was. Of course the one that was killed is gone but the other one is a prisoner of war and my daughter gets frequent letters from him and he also receives her letters and parcels. It is cold comfort but still while there is life there is hope.

My daughters are each doing work of national importance. Mother is doing a great job of work unsung, unrecognized, and I am ploughing the seas. A great war effort for one family. If we all do it then what is to stop our pulling through to Final Victory.

It is now 2:30 a. m. and I would love to write and let you know such a lot of things that are going on in Britain today. Excuse my scrawl and errors in spelling. I wonder if you ever thought you would get a line of (Continued on page 13)

12

August, 1942

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

July NF A A Tournament Report

By Karl E. Palmatier

EXPERT BOWMAN CLASS— Kenneth Moore, Los Angeles, Calif.

Leo Hoffmeyer, Flint, Mich.

Emery Watts, Los Angeles, Calif.

Arthur Hoffman, Bakersfield, Calif.

Alfonso Gonzales, Bakersfield, Calif.

Paul Ludwig, Los Angeles, Calif.

Roy Hoff, Los Angeles, Calif.

Leo Sipe, Los Angeles, Calif.

Merle Hathaway, Los Angeles, Calif.

C. W. Seastrom, W. Hollywood, Calif.

Carl Seastrom, W. Hollywood, Calif.

Earl Grubbs, Los Angeles, Calif.

28 Target Score 85-341 58-220 75-287 60-230 80-320 50- 180 67-265 63-247 75-295 51- 185 52- 186 42-156

28 Target Score 88-370 57-219 83-327 65-261 70- 280 47-171 71- 261 67-249 .77-297 62-242 52-192 45-165

56 Target Score 173-711 115-439 158-614 125-491 150-600 97-351 138-526 130-496 152-592 113-427 104-378 87-321

Han- Han­ di­ dicap cap Score 921 210 400 839 834 220 821 330 820 220 460 811 806 280 300 796 792 200 350 777 390 768 360 681

BOWMAN CLASS— Dwight Sherrill, Malibu Mtn. Club Bennett Gandy, Los Angeles, Calif.

James Millard, Flint, Mich.

C. N. MacGillivray, Flint, Mich.

Ivan Holmes, Dearborn, Mich.

Loren Hilderbrand, Detroit, Mich.

James Dundas, Flint, Mich.

Jim Murphy, Bakersfield, Calif.

Alfred Sanchez, Bakersfield, Calif.

Kore T. Duryee, Seattle, Wash.

Al Leman, Malibu Mountain Club E. L. Kallander, Framingham, Mass.

Arthur Stazinski, Dearborn, Mich.

Vince Buk, Malibu Mtn. Club Lewis Richardson, Flint, Mich.

Tracy Stalker, Flint, Mich.

Robert Blackmore, Marysville, Wash.

L. J. Markham, Durand, Mich.

Meryl Graham, Flint, Mich.

Frank Litchfield, Flint, Mich.

A. T. Wallis, Seattle, Wash.

Karl Palmatier, Kalamazoo, Mich.

57-229 61-239 53-195 33- 135 40-160 39- 143 48-172 50- 194 36- 132 53-195 40- 146 46-170 42-156 39-133 51- 181 37- 137 26- 92 34- 126 37- 143 38- 146 27- 103 37-137

56-206 55-207 43-151 53- 199 30-112 52-194 54- 198 49- 187 43-155 48-180 33- 111 50- 186 43- 165 37-141 35-123 40-142 26- 96 26- 94 34- 124 35- 127 44- 172 36- 136

113-435 116-446 96-346 86-334 70- 272 91-337 102-370 99-381 79-287 101-375 73-257 96-356 85- 321 76- 274 86- 304 77- 279 52-188 60-220 71- 267 73-273 71-275 73-273

110 80 140 130 190 120 80 50 140 40 150 50 80 120 70 90 180 140 90 70 60

34-116 33-119 29-101 33- 123 34- 128 24- 86 31- 111 32- 100 23- 85 24- 88 24- 82 21- 83 16- 56 12- 46

50-188 32- 122 37-137 33- 111 29-105 35-127 25- 93 24- 86 28-100 21- 87 23- 81 20- 67 14- 46 10- 34

84-304 65- 241 66- 238 66-234 63-233 59-213 56-204 56-186 51-185 45-175 47-163 41-150 30-102 22- 80

NOVICE CLASS—

Walter Walton, Hopkinton, Mass.

T. Thorsen, Malibu Mtn. Club Roy St. Vincent, Seattle, Wash.

Kilbourne Anderson, Trenton, Mich.

A. J. Michelson, Flint, Mich.

C. D. Cole, Seattle, Wash.

H. D. Pugsley, Framington, Mass.

S. B. Hayden, Seattle, Wash.

Louie Krutak, Malibu Mtn. Club W. Harmon, Langley, Wash.

Basil Blackmore, Marysville, Wash.

Wellington Lewis, Hopkinton, Mass.

Ben Bredimus, Seattle, Wash.

Henry Lacey, Seattle, Wash.

545 526 486 464 462 457 450 431 427 415 407 406 401 394 374 369 :u;; 360 357 343 335

August, 1942

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

EXPERT BOWMAN CLASS— Frieda Hoff, Los Angeles, Calif.

Kay Ratcliff, Highland Park, Mich.

BOWMAN CLASS— Lulu Stalker, Flint, Mich.

Betty Richardson, Flint, Mich.

Euretha Schomaker, Detroit, Mich.

Minerva Gandy, Los Angeles, Calif.

Marie Seastrom, W. Hollywood, Calif.

NOVICE CLASS— Doris Lacey, Seattle, Wash.

Patricia Ryan, Seattle, Wash.

Dwight Sherrill and Bennett Gandy will be in the Expert Bowman Class for their next tournament.

Walter Walton will be in the Bow­ man Class for his next tournament.

Lulu Stalker will be in the Expert Bowman Class for her next tourna­ ment.

The national champion field archer is determined by the average of his four highest mail tournament scores.

The championship is determined by actual score, not by handicap score.

All scores must have been shot after the 1942 annual dues were paid.

If your scores are reported late they are not counted in any mail tournament but they are placed on your card and your handicap for the next mail tournament is figured on them. They are also used when fig­ uring the average of the four highest actual scores for the national cham­ pionship.

The deadline for scores is the sev­ enth of the following month. This report was made August 8.

NFAA BULLETIN (Continued from page 7) 40 acres of oats. That man is versa­ tile and a demon for punishment.

You see his regular job is school work. This farming business is just a vacation chore. Or it may be that the labor situation got him down.

Being a rancher myself, I know just what that can do to you. It can put you to work. You either do the job yourself or it doesn’t get done. Any­ way, he says he is going fishing now.

Here’s hoping they’re biting.

13

28 56 28 Target Target Target Score Score Score 40-148 41-151 81-299 24- 88 34-126 58-214 44-162 30-112 23- 77 30-108 33- 97

42-156 26- 94 29- 103 30- 110 33-117

86-318 56-206 52-180 60-218 66-214

13- 51 8- 30

11- 39 9- 31

24- 90 17- 61

Han- Han­ di­ dicap cap Score 80 379 150 364

130 220 230 160 160

448 426 410 378 374

Another. Field Club Hela Ratzke writes us that she is now secretary of the Watchung Bow­ men, a newly organized field archery club in Union County, N. J. As we understand it, much of the credit for successful founding of this club should go to Mr. F. S. Mathewson, superintendent of recreation of the Union County park commission. He isn’t an archer at present, but has given the archers the fullest support.

We are afraid that he is getting a little too close to the sport to ever get safely away.

Any field archer of Eldridge or Glen Ellen, Calif., please contact Mr. M. C. Heffner, Box 165, Eldridge, Calif.

He gets mighty lonesome shooting alone and it seems that if there are any archers in that section they are well hid.

LETTER BOX (Continued from page 11) thanks for a most acceptable present?

It has just fallen into the hands of one who does appreciate what Amer­ ica in all ways has and is doing for us. God bless you all. Drop a line by air mail to my wife, or self, at 13 Longridge Ave., Newcastle-on-Tyne, England.

Yours very truly, Ralph C. Annison.

Again we wish to urge our sub­ scribers to notify us of changes in ad­ dress. Uncle Sam charges us for no­ tifying us of these changes and each month we receive a surprisingly large number of these notices.

14

August, 1942

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

SUBSCRIBERS PLEASE NOTICE A cross appearing in this space means that your sub­ scription has expired and we would appreciate your prompt renewal so that your name may be kept on our mailing list.

A gallant episode was the all night fight for the Repulse Bay Hotel on the south side of the island of Hong.

Kong during which the defenders, using an old archery set found in one of the rooms, fired flaming arrows into the undergrowth where the Japs were.—Archery News, England.

CLASSIFIED ADVERTISING RATES for Classified Advertising 5 cents per word per issue. Count initials and numbers as words. Mini­ mum charge is 50 cents.

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"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, orders to Ye Sylvan Archer, 505 North 11th street, Corval­ lis, 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, 505 North 11th street, Corvallis.

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YE SYLVAN ARCHER

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$1.00 a Year; 25c a Copy Display Adv. $1.50 per inch Classified, 3c a word. Three insertions for the price of two.

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38 cal. Brass Blunts. Doz. .15: 100-51.25.

Yew Wood Staves, 6 ft. long, 52.00 and 53.00.

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August, 1942

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

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