NATIONAL FIELD ARCHERSASSNV P. O. BOX 383 REDLANDS. dFORNIA
r SMI
February, 1939 Corvallis, Oregon Vol. 10
No. 10
Ye Sylvan Archer Vol. 10
No. 10
February, 1939
Published the fifteenth of each month by
J. E. Davis and J. R. Todd 505 North 11th Street, Corvallis, Oregon
Editor
J. E. DAVIS
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
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COYOTES ARE SMART By Walt Wilhelm FROM THOMPSON TO THOMPSON By A. E. Andrews PROPOSED ALASKAN HUNTING CRUISE By Dr. G. A. Cathey SAN DIEGO SHOOT SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA—A
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RETROSPECT
By George Brommers EDITORIAL . .......... OLYMPIC BOWMEN LEAGUE COSNER CARTOON CONTEST FIELD ARCHERS OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA By John L. Yount AHWAHNEE ARCHERS By Roy D. Myers ARCHERY-GOLF DEDICATION THE LIGHTER SIDE OF ARCHERY Edited by Geo. Brommers THE CASCADIAN CROSS By Chet Stevenson CHET’S DEN ............................. ;
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Coyotes Are Smart By Walt Wilhelm, Yermo, California,.
When the Diehr brothers from New York City asked we what ani mal I considered the toughest to bag with bow and arrow I answered, “coyote.” The brothers have hunted all over America, and have been suc cessful in Mexico. Deer and other game have fallen before their ar rows but they’d never killed a coyote. They’d never so much as had a shot at one, and they’d never figured the reason either. Charlie was looking at some pho tographs of coyotes that I’d killed with arrows. “You have done pretty well killing coyotes,” 'Charlie said,, “bow’d you manage it?” “Well,” I told him, “I average one every two years, and get them only by trickery. You have to out figure ’em. In all my years of bow shoot ing I’ve only taken one coyote with out the use of trickery.” “If I knew where to locate a coyote I’ll bet I could stalk and kill him ' without the use of any trick,” Charlie boasted. “That’s a deal, Pal. I’ll take you to a spot where you’ll see a coyote every day, and I’ll eat his heart if you kill one within a week.” I was busy getting wood and could
n’t go with them for a couple of days. While they were waiting they got busy making special coyote tackle. They made light broadheads, ground some of their old ones down, and streamlined the feathers so they could get the greatest possible distance with their eighty pound bows. As they worked away they kept taunting me by asking how I wanted the heart cooked, if I wanted it roasted or fried, and if I were going to growl while I was eating it. I went ahead getting my wood with the “who laughs last” idea in mind. Any man that hunts hard is likely to get a shot at a coyote, but on the flat desert chances are against you for the coyotes will stand on a sand hill and look the country over for miles before they stir around. One windy day Ken and Howard Hill and I surprised a big one at a lonely water hole. We got three ar rows in him before he knew what it was all about, but that was a rare case. A coyote nearly always sees you first. The Diehr boys didn’t know the desert, so I figured I wouldn’t have to eat any coyote hearts. On the day I took them out we saw
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The Archer Has To Be on His Toes To Bag a Coyote
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five coyotes „ in about a five mile circle. I told them all I knew about the wary animals and wished them luck. They hunted for ten days. Every night they returned tired and weary. They saw coyotes every day but didn’t get any shots under on© hundred yards. Every morning when they started out they’d ask me if I wanted the heart brought in whole, or in halves. They poked every thing at me regarding the heart eating business they could thing of, and those birds can thing of plenty. After the boys had hunted for ten days and hadn’t connected, I began to complain about being hungry for some coyote heart. Around the fire place I kept pouring it onto them. You can bet I evened up the score for the way they’d taunted me. One night Art opened up. “Just what kind of a system do you use to get close to a coyote?” he asked. “Several of ’em,” I answered. “If you birds will go down to the store in the morning and get a small hunk of bacon I’ll show you how to get close to a coyote. At that you’ll prob ably have to do your shooting on the run for a coyote don’t stand still to do his thinking.” The boys had the bacon next morn ing and were waiting for me. Ken joined us and the four of us got in the old “Prowler” and started coyotin’ around. We drove about four miles to the river bottom, and then I tied the bacon to the back of the car. “We’ll drag the bacon for a few miles,” I told them, “then when we get to the sand hills we’ll bury it in the widest ravine we can find. All we have to do then is wait a couple of days and when I drive past the place you birds all jump out just before we get to the ravine. When the old car goes by the place if there’s a coyote there he’ll run to a high spot, and while he’s watching me you guys will get a shot.” We dragged the bacon for a few miles and when I busted over the top of a large sand hill and slid to the bottom I said, “Here’s a good place to bury it.” I hadn’t more than opened my mouth when both the Diehr’s hopped out. One had a shovel. They were really ready to go to work. “Get back in the car,” Ken bawled,
February, 1939
“you birds have gummed the works. Do you think a coyote would come to a place where a man has been walking?” The boys looked at us like they thought we were nuts, but scrambled back into the car. Ken was right, so I explained the deal to the boys. “Ken will bury the bacon from the back of the car,” I told them. “He will hang down by one leg, dig a hole with a wooden paddle that has been well rubbed with the bacon, and in the hole Ken will rub the bacon around well and then just bury a small hunk about the size of a good chew of gum.” “Will a coyote dig for such a small hunk?” Art asked. “Hell, yes. What do you want to do? Let him get his belly full without working for it?” I answered. We drove about a mile to a spot where Bill Joy and Jack Willard liked to hunt. There, in a small sandy flat, Ken went to work. Hang ing by one leg, Ken scratched out small holes in ten different places, burying a small hunk of bacon in each one. I drove around in a circle and not a human foot touched the ground. The Diehrs were skeptical whether the trick would work, but were game, and offered to watch the spot all night from a distance. I knew that the presence of a man any way near would spoil things, so we headed home. I hardly figured that coyotes would go to the spot the first night, but figured we’d have a good time hunting anyhow, so we decided to be there at daylight next morning. Ken staved with me that nierht and around the fireplace we rehears ed what each man would do. I was to drive down t^e wash about one hundred and fifty yards north of our cache of bacon, and about one hundred yards from the sand hill that hid it on the west the boys were to scram out and run as fast as they could to a point about forty yards from the sand hill. There, they were to hide and be ready to shoot if any thing showed up. The first two mornings proved a blank and nothing stirred. The third morning big business started picking up. When the boys jumped out and
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started for their hideout I kept gunning the ~?t?r. motor. I made more noise r/’r.g th? than a transport plane taking off. When I/got to where I could see the flat, I saw two big coyotes nosing around. I slowed down and turned toward them. Every coyote on the desert knows that car and nearly always will allow me to get within one hundred yards; but any time that I stop traveling they’re gone like a flash. I’d just made the turn and started, toward them when one rascal ran to the top of the highest dune. He was right in a line between me and where the boys would be so I started looking for arrows. It was but a second when I saw arrows flying. I also saw the big coyote fold up. Off to my left ran the other coyote and Art Diehr trying to run him down. When I got to the spot where we’d buried the bacon, I saw where they’d simply scratched up the whole flat. No doubt the two coyotes had snent the whole night trying to find enough bacon for a good bite. Up on top of the dune I heard conversation that ran like this: “What the hell ails you, man? Can’t you see that neck shot is in a fatal spot?” It was Charlie Diehr talk ing. “Fatal, hell! I suppose that shot through the shoulders done him some good, and besides my arrow hit first and when it fell, he fell with his neck on your broadhead.” It was Ken answering Charlie. Art came running up and we went to the top of the dune to see what all the fuss was about. Dead as a spy in Russia was one of the pret tiest coyotes I’d ever seen. A deep reddish brown on the legs and belly, and the grey hairs tipped with black on his back made him a trophy worth while. But the question was whose arrow got there first. Ken and Charlie both had a broadhead through him; they didn’t give a damn who killed him, but they both claimed they’d hit him first. So we got busy and tried to reconstruct the killing and find out just which arrow hit him first. Ken’s arrow had struck four inches below the backbone on top of the shoulders, cut through both shoulder bones and the feathers were resting directly under the spinal cord. The
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arrow had been chewed off just above the head. Charlie’s arrow went in about the middle of the neck and ranged on through the left cheek bone where it was held fairly tight. “When I sock things they don’t chew my arrow in half,” Charlie
Arthur (left) and Charles (right) said. “No, you’re damn right they don’t,” Ken answered. “He was chewing my arrow while yours was getting there, which goes to show that I hit him first.” “Oh yeah?” growled Charlie. “I’m shooting as much bow as you are and I shot as soon as he got in sight. Don’t tell me that I didn’t hit ’im first.” At any rate we were successful and a little figuring and a small hunk of bacon did the trick. When we got home Ed Hill was waiting for us. He started giving us the devil because we’d left without him. Ken tossed the coyote on the ground and started to show Ed where the arrows struck. “See that, Ed,” Ken said, “I smack ed him square on the shoulders be fore Charlie could draw his bow. “The h-e-1-1 you did!” “The h-e-1-1 I didn’t!” As a matter of fact those guys never did decide which hit the coy ote first. The Diehr boys are in New York now but Charlie and Ken are still arguing by air mail. We are glad to learn that John Willard’s popular play, “The Cat and the Canary,” is to be revived once more by Paramount as a major part of this year’s production schedule. John Willard is a member of the newly appointed Field Archery com mittee, a well known Los Angeles archer and, we are proud to say, a contributor to Ye Sylvan Archer.
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February, 1939
From Thompson to Thompson By A. E. Andrews, Indianapolis, Indiana. A long time ago Maurice Thomp son wrote about making arrows of “red hickory.” Now another Thomp son, the Rev. Karl R., is making “red hickory” arrows. And, as I usually get my feet wet every time I write anything about arrow woods, and as I don’t care, being rather web-footed anyhow, I’ll be bold once more and give some tempered and modest opinions. This “red hickory” is just about tops. If somebody would offer me some good stump, tin-can and hunt ing arrows of Sitka spruce, white spruce, Norway spruce, red spruce, all kinds of pine and my own favorite birch and walnut, I’ve just about got to the place where I’d say: “Just send out the red hickory. So far as I know, you can’t buy red hickory arrows. So far as I know there is no such thing as red hick ory anyhow. Indiana has 117 per cent of all the species of hickory that grow in the world and has a botanist 117 per cent as famous as any other botanist in the world—(Charles C. Deam. Deam has written a library of Indiana botany, and one of hfs books is “Trees of Indiana,” which is 117 per cent better than any other book on trees. This book lists the hickories of Indiana, which is the state that is 117 per cent better than any other state. In the list of hick ories are fourteen species. Of the fourteen, only three mention color at all—black hickory, white hickory and yellow-bud hickory. Now in some of these hickories there is a reddish or brownish interior or heartwood. You make your ar rows from this brownish wood, not from the white stuff that you get on the backs of Tennessee cedar from Harrison county, Indiana. (Tennes see does have probably the best stands of red cedar in the world, but I re fuse to give any other state any credit for having anything—not by 117 per cent.) To resume, this red hickory, from pignut, mockernut, sweet pignut, shagbark or what-have-you, is ma terial that really will stand the wal-
lops. When you hunt whamdingits, boobar flies, hodags and wampusses in the Hoosier wilderness where killiwhackers are thick and all mammals are 117 per cent fiercer than in any other state in the union, take red hickory. You can shoot it against an ancient or modern white oak stump and it will come back whole and un frazzled. You can bust it through a tin can and it yields not a shav ing. You can shoot it from an old target bow or from a speedy reflexed osage and it will do equally well in either . It does not warp. It looks as classy as an antique bedroom suite done over with a 1939 finish. It shines, smooth and polished, and it looks class. The Rev. Karl is not selling red hickory arrows—no free advertising about this. But it’s just passing on the information that for attacking the boobar fly or the oak stump there is nothing so good as this wood, in my judgment. In fact, it’s a prod uct of the state that is 117 per cent superior and just that alone would make it 117 per cent better than anything we could import. The percentages in this little son net may not be accurate. You might have to add a point or two here or there, but the wood itself is just about the best thing we’ve come across. And I don’t know how you’re going to get any of it; which is 117 per cent of a confounded shame.
According- to the Daily Republi can of Plattsburg, N. Y., Russ Hoogerhyde recently put on his highly spectacular archery exhibition for the benefit of the students of the Plattsburg High Schools. The dem onstration, (following .shortly after the appearance of the Robin Hood picture, has aroused great interest in archery in Plattsburg. The clipping, supplied us by Major C. L. Williams, states that many of the high schools of. that section are placing archery on their programs.
“His bow shall he bend and a lesson impart.”
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Proposed Alaskan Hunting Cruise By Dr. G. A. Cathey, Portland, Oregon. At a recent luncheon with Oliver Barrett, Professor of Sculpture, Uni versity of Oregon, I learned that he had traded his 65 foot tug boat for a 110 foot twin diesel pleasure yacht. My i n t e r es t was definitely aroused when I learned that a very reasonable archery hunting cruise might be arranged for the Alaskan waters. Professor Bar rett, who has followed archery doings with interest, fell in with my idea that a group of archers might be interested in taking a combined hunt ing and fishing trip during the season of the year when the brown bear are busy along the small inlets for aging for salmon. We discussed the matter of expense, and I was agreeably surprised to learn that a party of fourteen can make the two weeks’ hunting cruise for a total expense per person of $205. This covers the $50 non-resi dent hunting fee, so that the cost of the trip itself is only $155, including trip, food, and guide. The cost of the trip is the factor which cinched my interest. Barrett, who has been interested in boats and navigation, has long cherished the idea of acquiring a boat suitable for university student cruises. However, he is taking a much needed vacation this year and is more interested at present in using his yacht for plea sure and sport cruises than for those requiring instruction and lectures. The yacht at present is in Seattle, the point of departure for the Alas kan trip. He tells me that it is in excellent condition, and the photo graphs of the exterior and interior of the vessel bear out his statements. It has twin diesel motors and a gy roscopic stabalizer. The accommo dations are beautiful. There are
showers, tub baths, hot water heat in^ system, refrigeration unit, tel ephone system between cabins, and a two-way radio telephone for land or sea calls. There are small boats for making short excursions up in lets. The staff will consist of licensed engineer and assistant, licensed nav igator, steward, expert cook, Pro fessor Barrett and his wife. The logical time for the trip would be sometime in the latter part of April or the first part of May. This is the time of year when we can get good bear hunting and fishing. Although the yacht will nicely ac commodate twenty people, we thought it advisable, in view of the nature of the trip, to keep the number down to about fourteen. Archers who are in terested, please communicate as early as possible with “Ye Sylvan Archer” or with me. —Geo. A. Cathey, M.D.
San Diego Shoot George W. Kettenburg jr. directed his arrows to 59 golds and a high total of 1252 to win first place in the men’s competition which fea tured the San Diego Archery club’s county championship tournament in Balboa park. The victor held a commanding advantage over all opposition and shot consistently well despite brisk winds which swept across the range. Dr. H. Butts had 37 golds and 992 points for second place and C. W. McNutt was third, with a score of 982. H'e accounted for 37 bullseyes. In the women’s division, Mrs. J. E. Waters won easily, making 15 golds and 708 points as compared to 10 golds and 553 points for Miss La Marjolaine Grant. Third went to Miss Alice Dbnnelly, who made eight golds for 501 points. Jean Kettenburg led the way in the junior class, chalking up a mark of 308. Trophies given by H. B. Aznoe, Dick Jessop and Muehleisen’s were presented the leaders.
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February, 1939
Southern California- A Retrospect By George Brommers I remember the first winter I spent in San Pedro. I was down for the winter and lived within a few blocks of Stanley Spen cer. Stanley was not yet champion, and I knew noth ing about archery. Art Young, I had heard about, and Dr. Pope’s book had just come out, I believe. I had even made a yew wood bow for myself and had practiced faithfully in the W a sh i n gto n woods, where I was then logging. Of course I could n’t hit anything with the kind of ar rows I had, but I thought they were great. Another winter came, and this time I had sold my camp and pulled up stakes. I wanted to go into the lum ber business in Los Angeles, but while looking for an opening within my means I played with some yew I had brought down with me. It was pretty horrible stuff, if I remember right, (all right, wise guys, go ahead and say it—guess I gave you an opening) but it served, because it brought me in touch with Chester Seay and with Earl Grubbs. It also brought me in contact with Spencer and with Ray and Bea Hodg son, but don’t believe a word they tell about me, because they are pre judiced. I’ll tell you how it hap pened. Long before Ken Wilhelm ever shot a cigarette out of anybody’s mouth I had developed a stunt of my own. I would shoot arrows up in the air and my judgment and my skill were so uncanny that I was really proud of it. Well, one day I shot an arrow into the air, . The damn’ thing landed, and Bea knows where— In fact it landed right between her feet, just the way I had aimed it; but did Bea squawk, and is she
squawking yet? She still thinks that I didn’t know what I was doing. Ray never appreciated me either. He referred to my highly efficient and superbly finished bow as a club. When I resented it he made me a bow—for nothing, of course—which is like Ray, and after that I wasn’t so sure. One thing I will say right now— if a man is at all capable, (quit that razing, can’t you) capable, I say, of learning, Los Angeles is the best place in the world for it. I think myself that I learned very fast. How proud I was the day I and the San Pedro team trimmed USC. I think I shot about 240 American. Not yet was I the base ment champion I was destined to be. There was the great day when Chester Seay introduced me to Art Young. I met Mr. McMeen, I met Compton. All have passed on, but there is Mr. Plowe still with us. I saw Carl Yeaman shoot the first 600 American, to be congratulated by Dr. Elmer. The first S. C. tournament—I wasn’t there, but I have since met most of the participants—I think it was twenty years ago. There were Drs. Simonds and Page of Riverside, also my friend Van Fleet. Some where I have a photo of it, but now I am rambling on. Stanley Spencer and Genevieve Johnson—the first California champ ions. The men haven’t done so well officially since then, but look at the ladies. Genevieve, Bea Hodgson, Au drey Grubbs, Ilda Hanchett and Gladys Hammer—what a record for the SCAA. Dr. Roberts, another great name, and that’s right—score one more for SCAA. Dusty shares with Art Young the honor of being as great a target as he is a field archer. And now something must be told that has been held back a long time. Clinton Douglas, the first man I know to have shot 700 American, told me that the very next day he witnessed Art Young shoot 701. Since Douglas was the only witness Art
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insisted that the matter should not be mentioned. Clinton told me and I am telling you. Maybe I shouldn’t —I know that Art wouldn’t like it. The Four Horsemen — Goulet, Douglas, Seay and McMillian—how we did ride them when they lost the St. Louis team shoot. Goulet was later to become president of the NAA, and one good job he made of it, too. The National at Santa Barbara. Met James Duff for the first and only time. Gadded around with Phil Rousevelle. Saw Dusty Roberts and Audrey Grubbs win, saw Prouty shoot flight—this before he had made archery history. Dr. Hickman was there, I believe—missed seeing him. Missed seeing a lot of others, I was still new to the game. Ten year ago —how time flies. 1935—another high spot. Dr. Klopsteg, met him in person for the first time. Mrs. Klopsteg and my wife had a grand time just resting while Paul and I gadded about. I was Chicago’s campaign manager — self appointed—of course, and did we have fun baiting Palmatier? Karl is the best kind of a sport and played up to us, fuming and pawing the earth. Wish all contests were settled in that spirit. Brant of the Review, Styles, Prouty, Cathey, Keasey and the un speakable Joe Cosner, what visits we had! Met Erie Stanley Gardner, met Miss Young and Art Young Jr. It is all a confused, but happy, memory. The National at San Francisco last year, but that is too long a story. Eppley, Cuneo, Styles, Atkinson, Wayne and Margaret Thompson. I certainly was glad to see them again. Met Stewart Edward White—we did a lot of bunkhouse logging. Saw for the last time good, old, clean-minded, kindly C. C. Hall, unobstrusively staying in the background. How ar chery could use more men of his type. S.C.A.A.—a monument to industry and to organization. When archery history is written the men who have guided and given unstinted time and effort towards building it up will have no need of apologies. I look up no records, I go on rec ollection of the last few years. Goulet and Hodgson, Parrish, Egger, Yount, Ahman—to mention only a few late executives—have they always agreed? Far from it, but each has given the
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best he had to give, and each has a right to be proud of the role he has played. There will be dissension, can’t help but be where everybody is honestly giving his best services and his best opinions, and it will be a sad day when all dissensions cease. As a branch of the N.A.A., as the parent body of vigorous local clubs, as a recognized force in national archery politics, the SCAA and its executives have given a lot and received very little credit even from its own mem bers. Individual member clubs? Be ginning with the Elysians, which is the largest, there is no more vigorous club in the country. There is the abundant energy of Bergstrom and of Cochems, the quiet efficiency of Hat field, the popularity of Reed Wil liams, there are Davis and Low, Monte and Gladys Hammer, Jack and Helen Frost, Douglas Easton and Casky. There is the one and only Larry Hughes, there is loyal Helen Little who never misses a tournament if she can help it. How are you go ing to pick individuals among 100 members, particularly when you are situated as I am, living in the oppo site part of town to Glendale and to Pasadena, with a damnable traffic congestion to face and my inability to drive at night? San Pedro—where else would you go to find four ex-national cham pions—Spencer, Bea Hodgson, Au drey Grubbs and Genevieve Johnson. There are Lewis and Roxie Yeaman, the Reeds, the Breests, Frank Han son. Frank Archer and Paul Hus bands among the also rans like my self. You have to shoot like hell to rate in that club, and I am mighty proud to- have been a member. My home club, the Los Angeles Archers—-what fun we have had. Jack Wjillard and George Miles, sneaking in after a forenoon of field shooting, Chester and Bess Seay, Ted and Margaret Rand, Willard and Gene Bacon, Ilda and Hollis Hanchett, Dr. and Neenah Moreton, Ellwood Mould, good old Brotherton, he should have been mentioned first, Rohman, Dugan, Clark, Wessel, Ray, Axenty, Peck, and now Bill and Mae Jo” But why should I spoil it, go out the first Sunday in the month and see for yourself. (Continued on page 11)
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February, 1939
Editorial The joyful news is getting around that Roy Case has invested in a type writer. We understand some of those who get letters from Earl Ullrich wish he’d do the same. Personally we don’t care, because we’ve read our own writing so long that it’s difficult for us to read good writing any more.
Cosner Cartoon Contest The following are the three win ners in the December Cartoon contest: 1. “Hknim! That must be a dog house rabbit,” by Chester Stevenson, Eugene, Oregon. 2. “Your nose knows,” by Geo. F. Miles, Los Angeles, California. 3. “Will I be skunked again?” by Click Lee, Eugene, Oregon. Each of the above will have his subscription advanced a year. On this page appears the third cartoon in the series. Be sure to send in your choice of caption. The three prizes will be enlarged photo graphic reproductions of the cartoon,
just what you want to hang in your den. This cartoon tells a real story and deserves a clever title.
Olympic Bowman League Returns for the second match of the Olympic Bowmen League tourna ment show the Detroit Archers in first place with a two-match total of 6160 points. In the second match Carl Strang, Fred Bear, and Jack Skanes each shot 776 and Nelson Reid was only two points behind with 774. Cleveland is second and Port land third. Louis Chmura of Cleve land has high average with 792. The Seattle ladies rank first with a 5664 total, the Detroit ladies have 5558 and Oregon State College girls are third with 5454. Ethel Gates of the North Shore Archers has high average with 759 points, 129 golds and 2 perfects, Belvia Carter of Se attle is second with 755 and Vivian Chambers of Portland third with 744. This tournament promises to be come a pretty race.
IT Cosner Cartoon No. 3
February, 1939
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Southern California Field Archers By John L. Yount, Secretary Intensive Work Needed Now it is up to each individual archer to put in his best licks with the legislators or friends knowing a legislator. Our association has succeeded in having presented to the State As sembly a bill asking for an archery reserve consisting of some 96 square miles located in the San Bernardino mountains. The area is mostly over 6000 feet elevation with the highest point over 11,000 feet. Within its boundaries is every type of hunting condition. On the north, typical pinon pine country, chang ing as one moves south to meadows and large pine flats, where small streams abound. The south-east leads into country that is extremely rugged. Wlhile on the north slope of Mount San Gorgonio, the snow lies the year around. So far, we have conditions to please the most exacting hunter but what about game? We can’t promise trophies but we can v promise r plenty of deer ... in sight with a mighty fine chance of — a shot, for this area ----- ihas — ibeen ----getting a game refuge for many years and is probably as well stocked as any section in the state or, for that mat ter, any other state. Just remember this, though, we haven’t yet succeeded in getting this reserve. We merely have a bill be fore the Assembly, and whether or not it goes through depends largely on YOU. If you have the slightest influence with any person whose sup port might help the cause, please write the secretary of this associa tion for copies of the bill and any other information you may need and then get bwsy. We can’t have this reserve unless each does his or her part. Yermo’s Meet It rained until daylight Sunday morning, January 21, which left mud ankle deep over the entire course. Then the wind switched to the north and it turned cold; but since when can a few details of weather affect a bunch of field archers? There
were present, not only the largest number of archers ever to attend a Yenno tournament, but for the first time in any Southern California ar chery tournament, target or field, all of Southern California was rep resented. We had archers from Cal exico and San Biego on the south, Lindsay, and Bakersfield on the north, Los Vegas, Nevada, on the east and Ted Carpenter on the west (meaning the Pacific Ocean). Of course, there are places where half the state does not take in much ter ritory, but, folks, here in California it is different. A lot of these people have to drive eight whole hours to get to the tournament and eight more to get home. When they will leave home in the rain for an eight hour drive just to shoot around a course, probably in the rain, there must be something at the end of the journey the boys really enjoy. What do you think? This is how the archers stacked up at the end of the day: Double Rovers, highest score in the Championship Division: Howard Hill, gold bar, 465 points; Second high, silver bar, Volus Jones, 377 points. Bill Lvon shot a little too well and over stepped his accustomed red ribbon, winning the coveted Championship medal, with a score of 374. Nice work, Bill, we’ve been pulling for you for a long time. Only one point be low was Bill Morrow, who received the red ribbon for the General Di vision. Folks, watch this boy closely, he’s after that champ medal, and he’s going to get it. Harry Stotler, won the white ribbon in the General with 313 points. Redlands women took all the medals, but did they have close com petition? These ladies are going to have to watch their step. Glenn Cur tis, won the gold medal with 206 points; Eva Bedwell, silver, 191 points, and Dorothy Ahman, bronee, 123. Glad to see Dorothy in the money again. Keep your chin up, Dot, you can do it. The desert boys figured out a clever way of getting everyone better ac-
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quainted and breaking up any pos sible cliques. As each archer reg istered, he drew a slip of paper from a box indicating what he was and a little verse of description. Then, one looked for his fellow shooting mates. For instance, Margaret Rand found out she was a Bronco, so she had to start the day with the other three broncos. That group shot as a team and ribbons were awarded all four team mates of the first three winning teams. The team scores were for morning scores only. The Apes were the best imitators of archers. They scored 579 points. Winning blue first place ribbons were: Bill Lyon, Bob Morley, Bill Otto and Wayne Stotler. The Lugs were second with a 483 score. Red ribbons went to Mrs. Gene Bacon, T. S. Clyburn, H. B. Butcher and Howard Hill. Third place ribbons went to the Eagles, 478 points; Clem ‘‘J. Stadler, Bill Morrow, Bob Faas and Harry Cook. Bill Joy won a beautiful semi-pre cious stone, cut and polished by Walt Wilhelm, for the arrow making con test.
February, 1939
Thompson, scored 1956. The Ahwahnee (San Francisco) men’s team, M. Spansei, A. Mericourt, H. Atkinson, L. Berg, scored 2521. The Ahwahnee women’s team, Mrs. A. Mericourt, Miss V. Weber, Mrs. E. Atkinson, Mrs. R. Myers, scored 1773. The Ahwahnee Archers will hold their open shoot in Golden Gate park at the location of the N.A.A. last year, Sunday, August 6th. Roy D. Myers, President
Archery-Golf Dedication
Ohio’s latest and finest archery golf course is that of the Athletic De partment of the Ohio State Univer sity, Columbus, Ohio, which was for mally dedicated Sunday, January 8. The course is an 18-target one, uti lizing latest and most modern equip ment, situated on the grounds of the new* University Country Club. Rules for play are those “officially” set up by the Ohio Archery-golf and Hunt ing Association two years ago. The largest single-day playing crowd of archery-golf on record par ticipated in the dedication tournament New members in F.A.A.S.C. are in response to the invitation of the Mr. and Mrs. R. M. Kock, Lake Ar University Athletic Department and rowhead; Mr. and Mrs. Robert Jones, members of the University Faculty. Inglewood; Mrs. F. Willard Bacon, Sixty archers from all sections of Redondo Beach; Ardell Schmitt, Bar the state enjoyed remarkable winter stow; Frank Gould, Lindsay; Stan. weather of the California type. Al Christilaw, Los Angeles, and Bill though competitors in the shoot Otto, Los Angeles. A total of 184 included the 1938 state archery-golf members now. champion, Julius Schweitzer, Jr., and crack archers from Cincinnati, Day ton, and Cleveland, winning honors Mrs. Eva Bedwell’s fine osage bow, went to local players who are mem tipped with mahogany nocks, was bers of the University Faculty. Wo taken by error at Yermo January 22. men’s honors were won by Grace She will appreciate its return to her Zorbaugh, Assistant Dean of Women, at 656 Magnolia Ave., San Bernar dino, and your secretary will appre who’s score was 79. The men’s tro phy was won by Paris B. Stockdale, ciate your notifying him where to of the Department of Geology, with send the bow, which was left in place a score of 52, two points under par. of Mrs. Bedwell’s. Second and third places in the wo men’s division were won by Mrs. Ahwahnee Archers Howard Stanley and Miss Kather The Ahwahnee invitation team ine Roller, respectively, both of Day shoot was held Sunday, January 15th. ton. In the men’s division, second The Greenwood (Oakland) men’s place was taken by Julius P. Sch team, consisting of H. Glover, C. weitzer, Sr., of Cleveland, father of Styles, J. Standisich, W. Thompson, the 1938 state archery-golf chamion, The . Greenwood wo while third place went to J. S. Con scored 2306. The men’s team, Mrs. F. Styles, Mrs. ner, of Columbus, with scores of 58 Best, Mrs. Frandy, and Mrs. W. and 59 respectively.
February, 1939
YE SYLVAN ARCHER
11
The Lighter Side of Archery By THE DOGHOUSE PHILOSOPHERS
Clem Butts In
since I tpok up the long bow for a Dammed if I can take it any rattle and started using arrows for longer! Since last year I’ve kept diaper pins. quiet; refrained from calling out my Why does Jimsey-wimsey Stovall own modest merits; refrained from have to recall the Brommers curse? making statements that would rel Is it in self defense or did he merely egate certain well known persons to nave a flush of satisfaction at the loss of a ball-peen hammer with the group of unmentionables. Yes, in silence I’ve suffered while with which Jones and Richards would have added several antelope to their al bated breath I’ve answered queries and queeries, carefully and thought ready imposing list of casualties? fully, lest by some slip ®f the tongue One last thing before I retire for I harm some sterling character. the night and relive these night Now, as the Walrus said, the time mares. Are we expected to believe Ken Wfilhelm actually shot an arrow has come to speak of other things, 758 yards without being kicked in especially of cabbages—doghouse cab bages—if you know what I mean. the pants to aid his loose? Well, we don ’t believe it here in the East. You First off, there’s Siemel claiming to be basement champ. Now boys, it see, Ken admitted his arrows were isn’t fair! 'Just because he takes in good line, ranging from 663 yards, a couple of pretty lovables into the through 692 to 758 yards and that he unknown and corners cats for them lost a couple. Do you know what he actually did? He placed those to shoot at, he thinks he’s champ. arrows beforehand, then shot his Well, I’m the chumper champ. Don’t flight so that the arrows actually the N. A. A. records of the 1937 na were intentionally lost. That’s the tional prove it? I’m at the bottom, trampled upon and ignored and by truth just as sure as I saw him do the great horns of Ferdinand I claim it! The wonder of it all is that he got away with it. Well, I’ll stake recognition. Another thing that is reported to my baby Osage against his Robertson war club that next time he shoots, be news is Brommers selling out. barring spectators at the “landing” Now that isn’t news at all. He sold tJHU, he will end, .......... break 800 or his bow, but out the first time he ever wrote an before he I does either, couldn’t he article fit to print (if any of them —4.^ &a few philosophers of exterminate ever were really fit for such use.) The way he so profusely writes about the Habitatus Caninenses species? There, our writings are down to the anybody and everybody—well, he<’s apt to write a nasty article about bare bone now. himself without even realizing it— Sincerely yours for anything then blame it on one of the Doghouse but a “touch,” rats. Oh, well! Youth must be Bowyer and Tattle-Tale. served. Clem Parker, As for the three Cherubs—Jones, Hamlin and Richards, why not print SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA the truth? They went rabbit hunt (Continued from page 7) ing, to be sure, but they went late Pasadena — damnitagain — why enough that no other hunters would, should it have to be North when I see them and their awful archery! live South. Somebody has to help They shot and shot at and around, over and under rabbits until all their the police department keep track of George Estabrook, and it seems I am hunting heads were broken off. elected. Lately Walter Egger has That’s why they had only “blunts” when something big enough for them helped to ride herd on him, but Walto hit hove into range, range for them .ter is president of the SC A A this year and has his hands full without being under twenty yards. The sun has probably never set on such a a reprobate like George to watch. George and Margaret Parrish are disreputable trio of pseudo-archers
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YE SYLVAN ARCHER
busy, too, or I would call on them. Hoagland, Heminger, Moore, Wick ward and Nicolen might be persuaded to help, they have suffered, too. Henry Bitzenburger can’t get his mind off the rovers’ range, and a good thing it is; Hank has sure done some wonderful work fixing it up, and has every reason in the world to be proud of himself. The Redlands club is—like Pasa dena—a dual one. While retaining their interest in target archery they find that unbelievable new rovers’ range of theirs—I believe it to be the finest in the country—too great a temptation. Also it takes a lot of work and Redland duffed in with its collective hands and feet. When ever John and Vera Yount, Bernie and Dorothy Ahman, Big and Little Glenn Curtis, Woodward, Dillon, Huntington and the other Orange Belters take hold, things begin to move, and they are not kept moving on momentum either. Redlands has a wonderful club; the finest club house that I know of, and a most congenial and active body of archers. Yermo—Walt and Ken Wilhelm— what memories are brought up. The
February, 1939
rabbit hunts, the rovers’ shoots, the prowler, the hospitality and the fun. It was there, two years ago, that Erie Stanley Gardner and Sasha Siemel shot it out for the basement championship, and it was here that the Lower Bracket was launched; and what has done more to promote fun and good fellowship in archery? Seldom have I seen anything as spon taneous as the reception of this jok ingly conceived idea, and what a time we have to keep the good shots out of it. Hospitable San Diego, so near and yet so far. One of the oldest clubs on the coast, it has taken on new life lately due to the way Col. Pierce, the new president, took hold. George Kettenburg, the secretary, is another live wire. Old friends of mine in the club are Dr. Butts, Com. Pope, now in Honolulu, and W. C. McNatt, and a few weeks ago I had the pleasure of meeting other members. The membership is now between fifty and sixty archers. There is another club in Coronado, and the way the San Diego newspapers dish out publicity is a marvel. Archery is decidedly on the up in and around San Diego, and.
Bottom Row-—(\eit to right) Dr. H. Butts, G. W. Kettenburg, Mrs. F. E. Pierce, Miss La M. Grant, Miss Eugenia Donnelly, Miss Lena Zellwege, Mrs. C. W. McNatt, Col. F. E. Pierce, W. E. Ashworth, Second Row— L. E. Brady, E. L. Halston, F. S. Shattuck, Dr. J. E. Waters, A. H. Rock, W. H. Grist, A. M. Green, Fred Tiffany. Top Row—Geo. Brommers, Le roy Stowe, L. Ladow, D. E. Sumley, Henry Bitzenburger, W. A. Joy, C. W. McNatt, C. H. Hoover, Lieut. C. L. Rodd, B. A. Beele, J. D. Easton.
February, 1939
YE SYLVAN ARCHER
the southern clubs will be an added tower of strength to SCAA. Long Beach has, I believe, three clubs—the Lakewood, the Polecats, and the Alley Cats. Rivalry is tense and a great time is had. Lakewood has some mighty fine archers, too, the Quayles will hold their own in any crowd, and Daulley is no setup. Jim Murray of the Polecats is an old offender, and so is Frank Archer. Murray being a brother timber beast I have to stand with him against the other clubs, though I know I am in bad company. While the Art Young club of El Segundo is a straight field archers’ club, it is also affiliated with the SCAA, as well as with the field arch ers SCFA. But Yount can tell you about that and does; you read his column in this magazine. Fred Woodley as president and John Yount as secretary have been with SCAA. for two years, or from the start. And I would like to see anybody do jus tice to 170 field archers in a few paragraphs, but I can tell you this much, when Egger and Woodley, Hodgson and Yount get together you may be sure that things run smooth ly and that there are no conflicting dates. The Art Young club was founded right after the death of the great archer in whose honor it was named. Of the original charter members I believe that only Howard Hill, Fred Woodley, Bob Faas, Stanley Christilaw, Bob Morley and Martin Sabransky still belong. However, the club has added vigorous new blood, and some of the best field archers in the country are now found on its roster. There are Volus Jones and Rogan, for instance; I believe that the Statlers and the Quayles now shoot at Pasadena. A history of this club would be an interesting chapter, and I hope that somebody who is bet ter posted than I am will write one. Southern California tournaments— how I will miss them. Not that Los Angeles isn’t still our home, but the next few years I hope to roam the woods the greatest part of the year. These tournaments are something anybody would treasure the memory of. I have had pneumonia three times, and that is as good an excuse for not shooting as I can think of on. the spur of the moment. It couldn’t
13
be laziness, as some of my detractors insist. However, I have to do something to justify my attendance so I coach and devil the ones who do shoot. Do they hold it against me and wish that the infernal nuisance would stay at home? Not Southern California— here I am patted on the back and made a fuss over. Do you blame me for going out every chance I have? Of course, occasionally somebody creates a disturbance too close to the shooting line. From force of habit, and immediately and without investi gation the Field Captain and the Lady Paramount proceed to do their duty and run me off the grounds. Five minutes afterwards it is all forgotten and I am back in their good graces. Yes, there are archers and officials like that—and we have them. Archers of Southern California, to have been accepted by you as one of you, is the greatest distinction I can think of. May I retain and deserve your good will!
The Cascadian Cross By Chet Stevenson The lucky Cascadian Bowmen of Eugene, Oregon, are blessed with an indoor shooting range that is unique and unusual. It is a building left on the Municipal Playground set up. a display building formerly used by the county fair. It is cross shaped, each wing being sixteen by sixty yards. In the center we have our dugout or kitchen and dining room; from this point we shoot down three of the aisles for thirty yard ranges, the fourth not being used at present. In one we have five standard targets for the use of the score shooters, the second is used to teach beginners and the third is where our main interests lie. This has a solid butt of straw across the end and is covered with all kinds of animal targets from a life size deer down to a mouse. This is where most of the Cascadians hold out and snap shooting prevails. No point of aim here. If one appears it lasts until the first arrow hits it. There are tin cans, balloons, moving targets that run and swing. Scores are kept in various ways. One event is for all to shoot six arrows at each of five different ani-
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YE SYLVAN ARCHER
mals and count the hits, with a hazard for hitting any animal not shot at. Most of the Cascadians enjoy the game shooting so well that they are seldom seen shooting for score on the targets. This winter James Stovall, our president, has initiated a new game that has gone over in a big way. He has a projection lantern and many colored slides of animals and birds. The range is darkened; ten shooters line up on the twenty yard mark ready to shoot. At a signal, there flashes on the screen a great lion or it may be a humming bird or a buck deer. Whatever it is, we are given twenty seconds to shoot as many arrows as we can. Then the light is switched off and the shoot ing stops. Now the image is turned on again, the hits counted, and the prize, a golden arrow, goes to the captain of the winning team, the club having been divided into two teams earlier in the season. This is great fun and all who can should try it out. Did you ever try to shoot fast in the dark? Every thing is done by feel. Our teams will average only five or six shots. A colored standard target can be projected and score counted for either time limit or six arrows. Our club house is open to members and friends any time, day or night. We meet regularly every Wednesday night and our ladies—what these ladies do is a story by itself. At ten o’clock the gong sounds and we all dash for the dugout for coffee and—. Last night was the birthday anniversary of our secretary, Myrtie Hamlin. Besides her big cake, with only a few candles, we had several fruit salads, nuts, apples, candy, etc. Our cross is not hard to bear. Mrs. Mae Joy, the new doghouse hostess, asks us to assure Miss Stella Ives that the Brommers arrow collec tion—assembled by such questionable means—will be reverently dusted, treasured and displayed. ’ However, says Mrs. Joy, Brommers left other trophies behind him that he treasured a lot, but which Mrs. J. wants to dis pose of. Anybody in the market for black widow spiders, assorted cock roaches, or other accumulated pets
February, 1939
had better apply soon because the Brommers place is due for a spray ing. George moans that the place will never be the same again, and Mrs. J. says she should hope not.
A very interesting old quiver now in the collection of Kore T. Duryee. The ancient quiver was originally owned by a Japanese prince. It is made of leather. The bottom part looks as though it were made of fur but actually it is “artificial” fur made by gluing hairs one at a time onto the leather. The arrow heads are broad heads made of perforated steel, very blunt, almost shovel point ed. There is a sheath on the back containing a knife and a pair of chop
sticks.
February, 1939
YE SYLVAN ARCHER
Chet’s Den Some months ago we published a picture of Chester Stevenson in his archery den. Chet is soon going to have to enlarge his den, or give away some of its contents or he will not have room for the couch on which he takes his siesta and smokes his after lunch cigar. On the walls hang about a half gross of yew bows, many of them with notable game records. About two dozen quivers are in sight, the latest being made from a fore leg of B. G. Thompson’s moose. Arrows of all kinds clutter up the place, ar rows by the set, by the dozen and by the gross. But where all inspec tions of the den start and where the last covetous looks lingeringly fall are on the photographs, colored enlarge ments of bow hunters, that adorn the walls. It is interesting to watch the collection grow and each time we enter the place new faces greet us. Just lately Forest Nagler, of Toronto, Canada, with a 300-pound white tail buck, all in natural color ing, occupies a conspicuous position. Also Charles Rhuloesky of Wauwa tosa, Wisconsin exhibits a fine tro phy of the bow, an 18-pound wild turkey. Shall we say that Chet’s den is becoming a regular Hall of Fame?
RELICS AND CURIOS INDIAN RELICS, Beadwork, Coins, Curios, Books, Minerals, Weapons. Old West Photos. Catalog, 5c. Genuine African Bow, $3.75. Ancient flint arrowheads, perfect, 6c each— ------ Indian Museum, Northbranch, Kansas.
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ARCHERY TACKLE_______ of Ye Sylvan Archer for an • MATCHED ARROWS—Not merely Important Announcement sanded to weight, but matched spine, weight and dimension. Built Our line of equipment is only as Hobson can build them. Self complete. The standard of qual arrows $2.50 a set. Footed $4.40. ity is accepted by archers every Sample arrow 25c. Pair Yew billets, where. $2.50.—Harry D. Hobson, Salem, Oregon. YEW BILLETS —$2.50 and $3.50. Staves $3.50 and $5.00. Postpaid. High altitude yew, well seasoned. Leon Chapin, Box 139, Albany, Ore.
BROADHEADS —$1.75 and $2.00 a dozen. Formerly $3.00 and $3.G0 a dozen. Paul Leyda, Archery Sup plies, South Oil City, Pa.
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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.
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YE SYLVAN ARCHER
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L. L. “Flight” DAILY offers you
“Tackle That Talks” Dry Cedar and Yew Catalogue Free 245 Pearl, Eugene, Oregon
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BOWS, ARROWS, raw materials, Lowest prices. Lloyd Morrison, Waldport, Oregon.
February, 1939
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