1 ARCHERS ASSN. NATIONAL Fl. P. O. BOX 383 REDLANDS. CALIFORNIA
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November, 1938 Corvallis, Oregon Vol. 10
No. 7
Ye Sylvan Archer No. 7
November, 1938
Vol. 10
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 IT’S A WILD COUNTRY By Erie Stanley Gardner
WHAT CAN BE EXPECTED OF A LEMONWOOD BOW? By Paul H. Gordon EDITORIAL '....................... MR. R. BROOKS-KING From Archery News A BIT ABOUT FLIGHT By Walt Wilhelm FIELD ARCHERS OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA By John L. Yount HOLLYWOOD LEARNS ABOUT FILMS NEW YORK CITY CHAMPIONSHIPS By Louise R. Partridge THE LIGHTER SIDE OF ARCHERY Edited by George Brommers INDIANA ARCHERY HUNTING By A. E. Andrews .................................
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It’s a Wild Country By Erie Stanley Gardner
Two years ago, Dr. George A. Cathey and I decided that before we got too old to do anything about it, we wanted to hunt in a really wild country. I agreed to find the country. In the course of my search, I got in touch with a J. H. Munro of Van couver who wrote about the head waters of the Kootenay River where bear and moose could be seen “from the cabin door”. Now in corresponding with a pro fessional guide, you ignore the first and the last parts of the letters. You
“A head you couldn’t even get in the front door.” read only three parag-raphs out of the middle, divide those paragraphs by two, subtract six, take the square root, and put what’s left through a wringing machine. The residue only, you may safely consider. Even by this rule, Munro’s letters looked good. Ed Record, who comes over once in a while to shoot archery golf, helped me read the letters. I kept writing Cathey, and Cathey started forward ing my letters down to B. G. Thomp son at Corvallis. We began to build
up a blood pressure. One day Cathey wrote me: “Came to the office this morning, and no letter 'from you about the Kootenay country. It was like walking into an empty house. What’s the matter?” Munro kept writing—assuring me the country was wild.. I had two stories which simply had to go out. Munro said that was easy. I could bring along secretaries and type writers, set up an office in tents, hunt from six to ten in the morning, dictate from ten to two in the after noon, and hunt from two to sixthirty at night. In order to sell Thompson and Cathey on the idea, I “guaranteed” that they would get a shot at big game, and when I said big, I meant big. Ed Record and his wife, and I with two secretaries, met Cathey, his son, Bob, and Thompson at Spokane on the twenty-third. We built air cas tles all the way up into Canada, ar rived at the, cabin Munro had been writing about on the twenty-fifth of September, and on the twenty-sixth were looking at the tracks of bull moose about as big as my hat, bear in'* the “bugling’ of elk, watching the fresh tracks of grizzly bear, and trying to get within shooting distance of a huge bull elk which kept mov ing around just out of bow shot. We began to figure it might be a wild country after all. But somehow we couldn’t connect with the moose. We went to bed on the evening of the twenty-eighth—three days of hunting and no moose. The boys were looking at me reproachfully. I was looking at Munro reproachfully. Munro insisted it was a wild country. In order to prove it, he pointed to the cow moose which was standing right across the river about a hundred yards from the cabin. Now in archcry hunting trips I am a “squire,” a rather advanced squire— a master of oafs—but still bound to render service to the knights. So, on the morning of the twenty-ninth when the alarm clock did its stuff, I went
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through the usual routine. I shut off the alarm clock and imitated the notes of a bugle. Nothing happened. I filled my lungs and yelled. Cathey continued to snore. Thompson, who makes weird noises in his sleep, car ried on. I sighed, got up, put on my cold boots, walked out through the frosty grass and pine needles to tell Ed Record, who was sleeping in a tent, that it was time to get up. He snored in enthusiastic affirma tive. I went back and got into bed. What the hell, I’d done my duty. The door opened. One of the guides tiptoed in so as not to disturb the sleepers, and looked around to sec who was awake. I was the only one who wasn’t snoring. He bent over my cot and said, in an almost inaud ible whisper, “There’s a bull moose outside.” I heard a terrific upheavel behind me. Cathey finished his last snore while he was in the air. B. G. Thomp son fell out of bed and into his shirt. Bob Cathey, the doctor’s son, should have been a fireman. Just like that. Just a whisper. As I reached for my pants, I was trampled in the rush. That gang went past me like the varsity foot ball squad tearing past the substitu tes on an end run. I went to the door and looked out. There was the cow moose upon the gravel bar, and there stood a great, hulking shadow in the bushes look ing at her with an amorous gleam in his eye. I could see him all right, but I couldn’t figure what that big black tree was doing up above him. And then it suddenly dawned on me that the big black tree was just more moose. And about that time, the moose started after the cow, and the cow started for the brush. I guess I stood there for ten or fifteen seconds watching that bull moose come out of the brush. I never realized there was that much animal in the world. After about eight or nine seconds, with his hind quarters still in the thicket, I looked for green flags—feeling certain that anything which could come after that must be the second section. By great salesmanship, I persuaded Cathey to come back and put on his pants. While he was doing that, I
November, 1938
grabbed my tackle. I never knew that a seventy-pound bow could feel so much like a toothpick. We started across the stream, and by that time, the bull moose had run down about two hundred yards to stand on the edge of the timber. We started to stalk. Somewhere along the line, Ed Record had shown up, and there we were, five lusty archers “stalking” this bull moose. I used to do a little sprinting back in high school, but never could get the hundred yards down under ten seconds. So that left me out of the running. I was up on my toes, going as fast as I could, but Dr. Cathey, B. G. Thompson, Ed Record, and Bob Cathey “stalked.” past me as though I’d been standing still. Seeing I couldn’t get anywhere in fair competition, I decided to use strategy. There was a turn in the trail just ahead. I yelled at George Cathey, who was in the lead, “Keep on the trail, George. We won’t make so much noise that way.” Cathey kept on the trail. I had also run hurdles in my high school days, so I started hurdling the brush for a short cut. You couldn’t “out-stalk” those hunters. They heard me crashing be hind them, and they took to the brush. My only chance then was to make an end run. I started around left end, and looked up at a big mountian which suddenly loomed before me. It wasn’t a mountain, It was a moose. That other moose was the biggest animal I had ever seen. But this new moose made him look like a black bird perched on a cow’s back. I stopped. Everybody stopped. In making my end run, I’d become separated from the other archers by a distance of about seventy-five yards. The guides, who had come strag gling along to see the sport, were about two hundred yards away. I’d been doing quite a bit of talking. I usually do. In my estimation, bow and arrow is an ideal weapon for small game. I wasn’t so sold on it as a weapon for biff game. I’d made vocal resolves whenever I could find listeners that I wouldn’t fire a shot until I was so close I could be ab-
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solutely certain of getting in a fatal arrow with one shot. At the time, I’d had visions of a bull moose standing in docile sub mission for a broadside shot, giving me an opportunity to smash an arrow into the chest cavity at a distance of not more than forty yards. Well, here was the moose, and the distance was all right. But where was I going to hit him? His head and shoulders completely filled up the landscape. I’m not going to say how high those horns were above the ground. If I even approximated it, no one would believe me, unless, per haps, Forest Nagler might. But Nagler regards killing moose with a bow and arrow the way I think of rabbits. And, anyhow, Forest Nagler never saw this moose. He may have seen the moose’s great-grandson, or his baby great-grandnephew. But I know damn well he never saw this moose. The moose seemed to be debating whether he should charge. I looked around for a tree. There wasn’t any tree, nothing but a great stillness, with archers frozen all over the frosty landscape craning their necks, waiting for me to shoot. Having no place to retreat, I fig-
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ured I might as well circle and get a shot, So I crouched low and started. Almost immediately the earth be neath me shook to the roar of gallop ing hoofs. I straightened. My knees were making knocking noises like a woodpecker’s beak on a dead limb. Then I heaved a sigh of relief. The little moose had stampeded, and when he’d gone, he’d taken the big one with him. We walked back to breakfast in the cook shack. J. H. Munro sipped his coffee and said apropos of noth ing, “It’s a wild country.” No one made any comment. We sort of thought we should keep that cow moose around there. I went out to try and get acquainted with her. When I got within a hundred yards, she bristled all up and down her back and started pawing gravel. After debating whether she should charge or run, she let me win the argument and ran. B. G. Thompson walked up to her. She switched her little tail and grunted noises of affection. He got up to within six feet of her and only retreated when she came up to lick his hand. B. G. was rather proud of that
“Bear and moose could be seen from the cabin door.”
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accomplishment until I called his at tention to the fact that she was evi dently a spinster moose of rigid moral ity who had run from me just as she had run from the big bull moose; that she associated on terms of inti macy only with other spinsters and college professors. That held him. And then, as they say in Hollywood, “came the dawn”. I am referring to September thir tieth, nineteen hundred and thirty eight. I hopped out of bed at the first chime of the alarm, and stuck my head out of the door. Then I jumped back and closed the door. I remem bered how the whisper of the guide had got the boys out of bed the morn ing before. So I said, in a low, con fidential voice, “Boys, there’s a big bull moose outside, right by the cross ing.” They snored on. I raised my voice. “Listen, you guys, there’s a bull moose out there. You can see the dawn glinting on his horns. He looks as big as the side of a mountain.” They quit snoring for a moment, then started in again. I remembered regretfully that I had done some joshing the night before about how I had yelled and stormed trying to get them up in the morn ing, all to no avail, but when a guide came in and whispered confidentially to me so that I could go out and bag a moose, they not only eavesdropped on the conversation, but trampled me to death getting out of the door. I had vowed to try the same tactics my self. I went over and sat on the foot of Dr. Cathey’s bed. “Now listen, George,” 1 said, “I’m cursed with a peculiar trait of character. When ever I’m telling the truth, everyonethinks I’m lying. Whenever I’m ly ing, people think I’m telling the truth. Now, I’m telling the truth. There’s a moose outdoors.” Cathey said sleepily, “I know there is. B. G.’s cow.” “No,” I said, “you can see the light glinting on his horns.” Cathey dropped back to sleep, I looked across at B. G. Thompson, He was lying wide awake staring at me skeptically.
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“I suppose,” I said bitterly, “that you birds won’t get up and kill that moose until I build a fire.” That remark was fatal. They were convinced then that the whole thing was just a scheme to get them up. I went out and picked up some wood, walked over to Ed Record’s tent, and said, “Listen, Ed, there’s a big bull moose outside. There’s going to be a lot of action as soon as I get a fire built so the hunters can get up. You’d better get right up.” He stopped snoring long enough to make certain mocking noises with his tongue and lips. I went back into the cabin and built the fire. From time to time, I’d look out of the door to make certain that the big fellow was over there. “Now listen, fellows,” I pleaded, “I don’t care particularly about kill ing a bull moose. You do. I got you up here. You wouldn’t like it if I shot at a moose and you didn’t. I wouldn’t like it myself. Now this moose is a trophy. He has a head you couldn’t even get in the front door. You’d have to take it in in sections. Now please, get up and kill that moose.” They yawned. The stove glowed with the comfortable red of warmth. I warmed up their boots, They gazed at me with reproachful eyes, disgusted because I’d Jninw interrupted their morning slumber. Thompson finally decided he might as well get up anyway, and sat over on the edge of his bed, stretch ing and yawning. He had his pants half on, when one of the guides came in and said, “What’s the matter? Don’t you fellows want that moose across the stream?” They came out of bed like fleas coming off the top of a hot stove. Thompson had his pants half on, and that head-start gave him the winning number. I was holding his boots by the stove. He jumped about four feet in the air and came down inside them. He grabbed a bow and arrow from some place ahd went out of the door before the others knew what had happened. Dr. Cathey, pull ing a shirt over his head, said, in muffled tones, “All right, B. G., you take the first shot.” B. G. never heard him. He was
November, 1938 YE SYLVAN ARCHER 5 I yelled up at the cabin, “Boys, plunging into the frosty willows like B. G.’s killed a moose.” a ground squirrel shooting down his So then we all ran out, hurdling hole. over the frosty brush. . . . We stood in the door and watched That was a great day. While we him. The moose was about two hundred were looking at B. G.’s moose, an other moose came up and wanted to yards up the stream by that time, charge. No one had his bow or ar standing alongside a pine tree. I rows. We went back and got bows noticed where his horns came on that and arrows. Moose started running pine tree—two-thirds of the way up, all over the landscape. Half an hour and decided the moose was probably standing on a hill. Later on, when later, a big bull came charging down on Thompson and the two Catheys. 1 went over there, I found he was There wasn’t much they could do actually standing in a hollow about eighteen inches below the place where about it, all they had to shoot at was head, horns and shoulders. Ed the tree grew. Record, over on the side about sixty I don’t know what the world’s record yards away, loosed a perfect arrow is for the two-twenty, but I am will ing to swear that not more than which went into the animal’s lung. five seconds after Thompson left the He whirled at the stab of that arrow, and Cathey had a broadside shot. cabin, I saw the moose suddenly jump as though he’d been stung. He There followed hours of excitement until we became so emotionally ex whirled and started back into the hausted we couldn’t even squeeze any brush. more emotion out of ourselves with 1 said, “Well, that’s that. B. G. made some noise and alarmed the big a clotheswringer. I went on a little hunt, later that afternoon, and came fellow.” back to find Dr. Cathey standing over Then I saw an arrow leap out of a big bull he’d just killed, an animal the brush and cross the river. Twenty that weighed probably somewhere in feet behind it, came another arrow. the vicinity of eight hundred pounds. Ten feet behind it, came another one, It wasn’t quite as big as the Thomp and five feet behind that came a son moose. It didn’t have as big fourth. Three and a half feet behind horns, but it had plenty of body. It the last arrow, came Thompson. The Kootenay River at that point took four of us to roll him over so was about thirty yards wide, waist wo could clean him. I reached across the moose’s body deep, and just a degree above freez to shake Dr. Cathey’s hand, and. ing. I think Thompson beat the last damned if he didn’t say, “He’s just arrow across, but can’t be certain. Down opposite the cabin, we’d built? a little fellow. I killed him for camp meat.” —and apparently meant it. a bridge of logs across the river. I ran down to that bridge intending It seems that afternoon a grizzly to cross over. I hadn’t quite reached bear and two cubs had walked across it when I heard a crash in the brush the flat on the other side of the cabin. and thought, “Here comes that moose.” A big bull elk had been down with It wasn’t the moose. It was Thomp the horses just below the cabin, and son. He came bounding over the two more moose had threatened to tops of the brush, holding his bow charge the archers. The next day high in the air. The lowest brush was Bob Cathey killed a big moose with about three feet high, but he never bow and arrow, a huge fellow. But touched a twig. I waited for him these moose make another story—two to cross the bridge. Hell, he couldn’t other stories in fact, and I’m not going even see the bridge. He made a leap to be tricked into giving an editor from the bank, down into the icy three stories for the price of one. water, and I ran up to be where I Anyhow, as J. H. Munro remarked could meet him when he came out. when we left, “It’s a wild country.” He looked at me. His eyes were sticking out about a foot. His mouth On October 23rd, rovers and ar worked. His lips formed words, but chery-golf fans held a rovers shoot his tongue couldn’t get traction at Tiffin, Ohio, which was won by against the roof of his mouth, and Carl Oelschleger. there was no sound.
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What Can Be Expected of a Lemonivood Boiv? By Paul H. Gordon, Beacon, N. Y. treatment, There’s no guarantee At the risk of offending archers there. who think habitually in terms of Yew However when the mischievous little and Osage, I should say very little god who sticks pins into Yew and less than they anticipate and a great gleefully twists the Osage was once deal more than they pay for. in a more kindly mood, he must have Scorn not the lowly Degame. It thrown his arms around the Lemon is in no sense a mean wood. Dr. Elmer has said that if good staves of it cost wood and hugged it tight. For here is a wood that is comparatively free several dollars instead of one, or a bit more, they would be more highly of blemishes, as bow woods go; straight growing, for the most part, regarded. It just happens to be one of those flukes where ready availa with high resilence when it is well seasoned, easy to work, pleasant to bility in commercial quantity makes shoot, and not unbeautiful to look for a price in no wise indicative of upon. worth. Lemonwood is, moreover, a gutter Needless to say, the kind of crafts child of nature. Like a lowcaste manship that goes into the lemon wood bow (or any bow) decides tropical forest brat with its feet in whether it will have any value at all. the muck, ignored and hungry and We’ve all seen beautiful staves of having to scrap for its place, its vi everything including the expensive tality is a byword; it grows lithe and media shot to hell through inexpert tall, thriving where more sensitive
Degame Spars Market Bound —Courtesy of John A. Hunter
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Lemonwood (Degame), Habitat, Cuba. —Courtesy of .John .4. Hunter and delicate growths languish and perish. You can’t injure the damn stuff. Beating for beating, it will outlast Yew—yes, and even Osage. Drop it, wet it, overdraw it, throw it around, scratch it—abuse it through your whole catalog of fiendish in genuity;—it remains servicable. You don’t have to pamper it and keep it in cottonwool. It survives treatment under which the storied and be-poemed Yew curls up and dies. I own a lemonwood bow that is Ex hibit A for this brief. It’s the second I ever owned; made somewhere back in 1923—out of a book, so to speak. In pattern it is religiously traditional (a handicap as we now know). Yet in its sturdy 40 pound youth—when ar chers and forgotten men were equally rare—I shot a target arrow from it clear across Lower Kanowahke (some thing over 270 yards) for the Fox Film boys. Now in its desuetude it weighs about 36 pounds, and its aged back is a sheaf of checks, but it still shoots, and I shouldn’t be a darn bit surprised if it tossed a target arrow over 225 yards. An acquaintance of mine has a similar lemonwood bow
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that he has owned and shot for close to twenty years. “Special cases,” you say. All right. The average expectancy of lemonwood bows as compared with others is still impressively high. My mail is full of letters with coments like: “The bow J bought several years ago is still going strong.'' “The Yew broke, but the Degame holds up all right. ..I spent four times . . . etc. Have a look at performance, then. Mind, I’m not saying that Lemon wood is peer to either well conditioned and well made Yew or Osage when those two are at their best. But I do want to go on record as saying that it ranks next in the list of real bow woods, and most emphatically that its average is every whit as good as that of the others. Appears to me I recall Dr. Crouch, back in ’26 or ’27, leading the field at the hundred yards in a Metropolitan shoot at Rye with a rough hewn Lemonwood that zipped them down like nothing I had seen before or since. Lemon wood does fol low the string some, to be sure; but you and I have seen Osages and Yews at tournaments that were no bargains in that respect either. Making, I have said, has much to do with it. The wood must be well seasoned and of good grain, other wise there’s not much to worry about in selection. About the only defect characteristic of lemonwood — and that of infrequent occurence—is wind twist, which shows up as light diag onal shot marks across the stave or bow. There are still those who draw the Yew analogy, insisting upon grain stacked roughly parallel to back and belly. That’s a needless considera tion. Recently improvements in bow de sign,—notably the work of Dr. Paul Klopsteg and Forrest Nagler—have done much to step up bow efficiency generally, but I venture the statement that they have more profoundly af fected the performance of Lemonwood than any other medium. Something was needed to overcome the loss of efficiency due to string follow, and apparently the new designs are the answer to that. Pound for pound of draw force, these bows—particularly in the flat-limbed type—shoot circles around the traditionally patterned (Continued on page 15)
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November, 1938
Editorial It has been the rather fixed policy of Ye Sylvan Archer not to use space to tell how good a magazine we are publishing, but wo are going to de part somewhat from that policy to tell our readers some of the things that are in store for them in the next few months. First, we know you are enjoying Erie Stanley Gardner’s story in this issue and will be glad to know that you will have the pleasure of read ing another story, “Stump Hunting in Oregon,” in the near future. We feel that our pride in Mr. Gardner’s contributions is fully justified. What do you think? Then, Sasha Siemel, the Tiger-Man, is on his way back to this country, from Brazil and we are promised a story—“The Ladies and the Tiger”, we believe is the title, which will be well illustrated. The editor is a. modest man, but he can’t help point ing out that any magazine having contributors like Mr. Gardner and Mr. Siemel is giving its readers some thing for their money. Among the other fine articles and stories we have in store for you are articles on yew, osage, Port Orford cedar, spruce, and Douglas fir by men who know bow and arrow woods; an article on “Target Arrow Qualifi cations” by Russ Hoogerhyde; on “Hunting Arrows” by Dr. George A. Cathey who knows what it takes in an arrow to prove fatal to a 1000 pound moose; and a story by Capt. Willard that will bring you to your feet. These are not all by any means —we do not want to give it all away now—but surely enough to cause you to ship a dollar bill off to us right away before you forget it, if you arc not already a subscriber. An 85 pound bow in the hands of Harry A. Pallady, a member of the Portland Rose City archery club, shot an arrow nearly four inches in to the skull of a 142-pound three-point buck during the recent hunting sea son. The buck dropped instantly. Mr. Pallady also gets his bag limit of pheasants annually with the bow.
The many archery friends of Jim Murphy of Bakersfield, California, will be glad to hear that he is recover ing nicely from the severe attack of pneumonia that had him down. The Seattle Archers are again spon soring the Olympic Bowmen league meet, the 12th, starting the week of January 15, 1938, and lasting ten weeks. Entries must be in by Jan uary 1st. Entry fee is $4.00 per team. Entries should be sent to Kore Duryee, 301 White Building, Seattle, Wash.
Mr. R. Brooks-King From Archery News, England It is with sorrow we have to record the passing of a famous Archer in the person of Mr. R. Brooks-King, which took place at Ottery St. Mary on 19th September last. He first shot in 1898 and practised through the Winter with the Rev. C. Clarke. In the following year he entered for the Leamington Meeting and made top score, 789, shooting with an old-fash ioned lancewood bow. The same year he won the Grand Western Cham pionship with a score of 741. At the Grand National Meeting of the same year he was second to Mr. Eyre Hus sey with 812 to the latter’s 848: a good performance for an Archer’s first season. Mr. Brooks-King won the Grand National Championship nine times, a record, second only to the great Hor ace Ford who won it twelve times. Mr. Brooks-King also won the Grand Western Championship eighteen times, his best score being 959 made in Salisbury in 1905. In 1934—when not in good health he won this Championship for the last time, when to his great delight his daughter also won the ladies’ Grand Western Championship. He was a good all-round sportsman, an excellent game shot and a doughty opponent at either golf or archery, never giving up until the last putt was down or the last arrow shot. He leaves a widow, one son and one daughter, who have our sincere sym pathy in their bereavement.
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A Bit About Flight By Walt Wilhelm, Yermo, California
Well, I just returned from Redlands where I watched the folks shoot with Ohio by telegraph. I had to leave early and didn’t get Ohio’s results but according to Brommers—who was there watching the shoot—California was licked. I can’t write what George said about my shooting for I can’t remember such stuff; I do know that a logger—or a mule skinner are the only birds that would talk that way. I know also that I’m carrying a sharp broad-head with me next time to be used on that guy if he ever attempts to follow me around a course again. Many archers asked me if they should hold flight shoots with field events; if I think flight shooting does the game ivny good, what system Ken used when he shot 758 yards, and many other questions. You’re doggone tootin’ I think they should hold flight shoots with the field events, and I’m bettin’ that they’ll be doing it before long too. Why not? If it’s good enough for the tar get men it’s good enough for us. Tar get shoots and field events aren’t held on the same day. It wouldn’t interfere with either group if they shot flight at both kinds of meets. What we need is some archery event every week and more flight shoot ing. If a guy doesn’t like to shoot flight he doesn’t have to do so; if he doesn’t like to watch it he doesn’t have to do that either. But for the boys that like to shoot flight it would give them a chance to really learn something. What they need is plenty of chances to try for flight and a shoot a week is just right. All archers won’t make every shoot but some of them will, and when they get the results they’re going to be at the next one, particularly if a record has been beaten. Does flight shooting do the game any good? Yes, any thing that cre ates interest does any game good. What’s prettier than watching a beau tiful arrow leave a powerful foot bow? Who works harder than the flight men? Both making tackle and in practice. Any one who thinks a
flight shooter doesn’t work should have to follow Ken some day when he practices in the river bottom. I darn near wore out the old hunting car chasing arrows, and Ken nearly wore out his pants scat the last time we practiced. As soon as my old flipper gets strong enough to pull a good bow I’m shootin’ flight plenty, providing some one gives me some lessons like Curt Hill did Ken. Yes, sir, if I had a bow I’d shoot flight right now if I had some arrows. I’m working on a tracer arrow—a tiny hole drilled in the center and tapered toward the nock to be filled with something that will smoke like the devil for a few seconds when lighted just before the loose. I’ve already burned my hands and nearly blew up the shop world ng on the thing. Someday 1’11 get in touch with a good chemist and it will be another story. If any of you archers know something light and that will make a good smoke let mo in on it for I’ve just about got the rest worked out. Wouldn’t that be a pretty sight watch ing a flight arrow to the end of its flight? It would be easier to find ’em too. I do think that a flight ar row should be kept in somewhat of a straight line though. I don’t think a flight arrow should count if a shooter can’t keep them at least with in 75 yards of a center line on cither side. A rule like this is bound to be made soon. The time is near when there’s going to be thousands of flight men and they’re going to have to keep their arrows in some kind of a line in order to measure ’em quickly. Before the shoot at Modesto, Ken and I went to the river bottom every day and worked like the devil. I had an awful time with that guy trying to get him lined out. Of course I don’t know anything about flight shooting, but I slept between Curt Hill and Carl Oelscheleger on a sand bank and that should qualify me for some thing, shouldn’t it? Well, Ken always got close to six hundred yards in practice and I told the bird that he (Continued on page 15)
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November, 1938
Southern California Field Archers By John L. Yount, Secretary
November 20 Is Important This page will probably reach you just at the proper date to serve as a last minute notice of our next regular tournament and the annual turkey, shoot of the Redlands Club. These events are to be held on the same day at the new Redlands roving course. The official tournament will consist of one round of rovers. All who expect to take part must be on hand not later than 10:30 A.M. There are twenty-eight targets requiring an hour and a half, so one round will do a pretty fair job of telling who is who. Further, we promise you a course as tough to shoot as any you have ever tried, yet easy on arrows providing you keep them within six feet of the target, but best of all, it is a course with real trails and no hard climbs, which makes it a pleasant morning’s hike. The afternoon is to be given over to the Redlands Club for their annual turkey shoot. They promise to have the finest turkeys available, and any archers who have previously attended one of their shoots will tell you that they are famous for the quality of the turkeys, if for nothing else. We, who come from Redlands, take consid erable pride in trying to make this annual turkey shoot the outstanding one of its kind in the country. There is no profiteering. The tur keys are direct from producer to consumei* except for a small charge per pound for the expense of the shoot. This charge is openly added to the price of the turkey when weighed on the grounds and will be just as small as possible. Redlands never makes anything on this shoot but expenses, friends and fun. There are to be events to your lik ing whether you are a target shot or the wildest kind of a field man. Also, it will make no difference if you are good, bad or indifferent for there will be games of skill and games of luck and some combining both. Don’t be afraid to come to the turkey shoot just because you are not a member of the Field Archers As-
sociation and a field tournament is being held in the morning, because the turkey shoot is for all.
Standardized Field Rounds a Possibility The first trial of a standardized field round has been made and some of us feel more certain than ever that the idea is sound. Here is the whole story: On October 1, at Modesto, Calif ornia, the first afternoon of the State Tournament was given over to field shooting. Ken Willhelm was in charge and laid out a course with the same number and length shots as those on the course then being con structed in Redlands. The round seemed quite popular. In fact, so much so that it was decided to use the same round next year. Then, on October 16, the Ohio State Field Association held its annual meet in conjunction with the Redlands Club and its guests. Ohio shot twice around a single course, while at Red lands the archers shot once around a double course. Scores were exchanged by telegraph. We Redlanders hope this first interstate telegraphic tour nament is only the beginning of many such meets. To us, who have made quite a study of the possibilities of this type of tournament, the most gratifying thing was that the scores were so similar that it is doubtful if there would have been very many changes if all parties had been shoot ing on the kame course. While the California State course and the Ohio courses were temporary ones, the latter having only half the number of targets as the other and as the permanent Redlands course, the number and size of targets, the length of shots, angles, etc., were all designed after the same pattern, which was a product of many weeks of careful planning and four years experience with a number of different roving courses. Because the double course is laid out in a figure eight with each half
November, 1938
YE SYLVAN ARCHER
consisting of the same number and size of targets, the same distances and angles, the same score should be shot on each half, thus making twice around a single course the same as once around the double course. Here Is the Round All targets are round with a bull’s eye half the diameter of the target. Shots of 15 to 30 yards have 12 inch targets; from 35 to 50 yards, 18 inch targets,and from 55 to 65 yards the size is 24 inches. On the short fourposition shots, four of the six inch targets are placed on a single bale of hay. The other four-position shots each use a single target—an 18 inch one on the shorter and a 24 inch on the longer shots. The following are the ranges used in yards: 15, 20, 25, 30, 35, 40, 45, 50, 55, 60, and 65. The four-position shots are 20, 25, 30, and 35 feet; next, 35, 40 45 and 50 yards, and the longest 50, 60, 70 and 80 yards. Four arrows are shot at each target. The only variation being that in the case of the four-position shots, instead of shooting all arrows from the same position, shoot only one and move to the next position. In scoring a bull’s eye counts 5 and a hit outside the bull 3. The above distances and targets are a single course. Two such courses, or twice over the same course is a round. Results Counting the three tournaments as one, here are the results insofar as the big shots are concerned: Ken Wil helm, California State meet, 261; Shumway, Ohio State, 242; Ahman, Redlands meet, 224; Willard Bacon, California State, 203; Volus Jones, Redlands meet, 202; Jesse Quayle, Redlands meet, 200; George Hartford, Ohio State, 200. With the ladies finishing as follows: Glenn Curtis, Redlands meet, 161; Bee Hodgson, California State, 143; A. Benedict, Ohio State, 122; Irma Oelschleger, Ohio State, 94. If you doubt that these scores are good stick in a 14 target temporary course, it’s easy, and just try to beat them. Or better still, the Redlands club is open to any. kind of a challenge—individual, team or club, by mail, airmail, or telegraph for money, marbles or chalk, prefer ably chalk—it’s cheaper.
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Hollywood Learns About Films (Contributed) A letter from Mr. Trenz, manager of the famous Trocadero in Holly wood, says: “Ken Wilhelm’s daring exhibition of skill and marksmanship as a featured guest artist on our regular Sunday night program: was undoubtedly one of the most sensational acts ever pre sented in a Hollywood night club. Ken, with the assistance of Rube Neilson and lovely little Dorothy Weldon, held the audience speechless as each arrow hit the mark. The thunderous applause received by this modern William Tell after it was over proved the appreciation of sev eral hundred people, many of whom were well-known Hollywood person alities. “We feel sure that Ken’s wonderful performance did much to stimulate and create new interest in archery.” That Ken’s demonstration really did create interest is shown by the fact that since his performance he has made several private exhibitions for interested Hollywood ians, who either had seen him at the Trocadero or heard about him from guests. The value of this kind of publicity, to archery is hard to determine at this stage. We understand that Dr. Klopsteg, an aider and a better of Ken in his flight shooting, and a good friend of his to boot, felt called upon to warn Ken that as Chairman of the Board of Governors, N.A.A., he must protest against these danger ous stunts. Ken, says the doctor, has repeatedly shown archers that he can do it, and that’s enough. Ken agrees readily, but points out in his defense that he was more or less baited into it this time. The question of veracity had been raised, and it was up to him to show what he could do or to shut up. Now he feels that he shouldn’t be asked to do any more of this kind of shooting, and archers heartily agree with him. Hollywood, from the very nature of things, expects that kind of stuff to be faked. Hollywood knows how films are made. It wants realism in its pictures, but it has ways and means of getting this realism in a film without danger to the players. This time archery was shown in th© (Continued on page 15)
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November, 1938
Neu) York City Championships By Louise R. Partridge, Secretary New York City at last has its Ar chery Champions! At the New York Archers first City Championship Tournament held on October 16th at Alley Pond Park, Mrs. Myrtle Mil ler and M. Shibata officially became the city’s highest rating archers. Mrs. Miller is president of and chief promoter of the New York Archers Club which was organized last May. We all take our hats off to her for her well-known skill in shooting and for her never-failing enthusiasm, in. promoting archery. Mr. Shibata is a member of the Nippon archery club as well as the New York Archers. He placed high in the men’s closed division with a total of 1030 for the Double American Round. The weather as well as the tour nament committee headed by Mr. Peter Lepanto, cooperated to make the tournament a huge success. There were 72 archers on the shooting line; both closed and open divisions were well-attended. In the open division Dutch Weese chalked up a score of 1330 to take first place and Edith Russell of New Jersey scored 945 to claim the women’s title. One of the purposes of the New York Archers has been to promote the growth of the student and junior divisions of the club. It was a plea sure to see 14 younger archers at this tournament as compared to the usual 3 or 4. Muriel Kornreich and little Patricia Brooks now claim the city titles in the student and junior di visions. In the open classs John Heebner’s score of 1028 (Jr. American Round) took fair claim to first place in the student, class; and Laura Quinn’s 816 gave her precedence in the junior division. Many and varied were the prizes. Mr. Shibata becomes the proud tem porary possessor of the beautiful Ab ercrombie Fitch cup and Mrs. Miller of the Hunter trophy. First, second and third place medals were awarded to winners in all divisions. In ad dition, target prizes and various novelty awards were made. A special feature of this and all succeeding City Championship Tournaments is
the Gold Star Award. A tiny arrow pin goes to all who succeed in piercing at 60 yards a small gold star placed in the center of the target. The fol lowing are the first to merit the arrow pin: Men—T. K. Tanaka, Har old Hill, Dr. C. N. Hickman, Edward Haas, Stan Fisher, I. C. Davids, Win field Squire, and C. J. Weese. Wo men—Louise Partridge. We shouldn’t really leave this Championship Tournament without mentioning Mr. Vander Kogel’s spec ial flight bow which he demonstrated while scores were being totaled. (It wouldn’t do to offend Mr. Vander Kogel; after all, he did furnish the awards to those making the most greens.) I didn’t see the demonstra tion myself, but I understand that the bow has something to do with a wooden coat hanger and some wire springs. The bow is guaranteed not to break and there is a black and white string for night and daylight shooting. Nor should we take our leave with out saying that this tournament nei ther begins no ends New York activ ities. On October 8, the club spon sored a spectacular demonstration by Russ Hoogerhyde at Alley Pond Park which was well-attended by archers and spectators alike. An American Round followed the demonstration. On October 30th a combination PopeYoung Round and Halloween shoot will conclude outdoor events for the season. After that we swing into a well-organized indoor program. You’ll be hearing from us again be fore long. On October 16th Ray Shumway won a rovers shoot held by the Dayton, Ohio, archers.
Saturday, November 19th, is the day set for the fourth annual hunting party of the Ohio Archery-Golf and Hunting association. The hunt will be held on the Ohio archery hunting preserve in Delaware County. High jinks and eats are promised. Ohioans won the competitive field archery shoot, so rabbits look out.
November, 1938
YE SYLVAN ARCHER
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The Lighter Side of Archery By THE DOGHOUSE PHILOSOPHERS
Doghouse Grads Make Good By George When Ken Wilhelm shot flight at Modesto he became the first archer I know of who officially holds both the the world’s regulation and free style record. I didn’t have a chance to see him do it, but October 20 Chester Seay, Ken Parker and myself wit nessed and taped a new unofficial free style record of 846 yards and 10 inches. We can hardly believe it yet, but steel tapes do not lie. What sur prised us most was that two arrows landed within a few yards of each other and that the shot was made in Los Angeles where we had more or less taken for granted that humidity made flight records very unlikely. I had better hurry and get this into print because I have a feeling that the record won’t stand long. The main reason for this is because the same day and in the same field the best Ken could do in regulation style shooting was less than 450 yards. If I ever expressed any doubts about the records of the old Turks I hasten to make amends. That 850 yards of theirs looks positively con servative now, considering that they, shot short horn bows against our wood. We are just beginning to learn about flight, but we are learning fast. It was two short months ago that Ken managed to break 500 yards with Curt Hill’s bow under Curt’s coach ing. Of course the Turks used a hand bow and Ken used a foot bow. But the difference in weight wasn’t ex cessive, 200 pounds against 160. The Turks had bujlt themselves up to handle this weight by hand, and there is no reason why our archers shouldn’t adapt themselves. Ken handles that 100 pound regulation bow of his like a toy. Another threat to the regulation style shooters is Morton Mendels, who recently shot a witnessed unofficial 525 yards at the U.C.L.A. campus. Morton’s bow was made by Grubbs, Ken’s hand bow by Oeslschleger and
Ken’s foot bow by Robertson. Ken’s record arrows were given him by Curt Hill. Don’t forget that all these records were made possible by the finest spirit of cooperation and by the fact that flight shooters have no secrets. It is for this reason I look so confidently for new accom plishments. Ohio, Oregon, and Cal ifornia working together and against each other in friendly competition can’t help but go places. It is only fair that California cleaned up on competitors in flight this time; it has been the under-dog for too long. And just see what Ohio did to us in the interstate rovers’ shoot. Don’t let anybody fool you cither, California gave the best it had. Whenever you shoot against Volus or Kenneth Jones, Ahman, the Quayles, the Statlers, Rogan or Walt Wilhelm you shoot against champs and poten tial champs. Ohio did just that, and Shumway had to be good, that’s all. But now we have another problem on hand. With our usual modesty and self-effacement we have gen erously conceded the world’s field ar chery championship to any winner of our S. C. rovers’ shoot. It didn’t cost us anything and it made some of the recipients feel good. Unfortunately our latest champ, Bernie Ahman, is not the shrinking violet and blushing rose some of his predecessors were. Bernie says that if the others were world’s champs he is too. Where does this leave Shum way? You figure it out, I can’t. It is rumored that another of our world’s champs, Volus Jones, is now training a ballet in the use of bows and arrows. If everybody in Holly wood was as popular as this Disney artist is we would soon make archery better known among the public. Good luck to you, Volus, and I will see our provost marshall about having your leave extended. A lettre de cachet is awarded Mararet Rand so that she can have Ted taken care of. Margaret shot her first rovers’ round at Modesto to come in third. “Little Glenn” Curtis take notice.
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November, 1938
Indiana Archery Hunting By A. E. Andrews, Indianapolis, Indiana Archery Hunting reserves. There are two of these: Brown county State Park, 50 miles south of Indianapolis, with 23 square miles to hunt over exclusively; and Pokagon State Park, Steuben county, northeastern Indiana, with two square miles to hunt over exclusively. Licenses. The cost of a nonresident archery-hunting license is only two dollars. This entitles the archer hunter to hunt in Indiana through out the calendar year in any part of the state, but he must not carry firearms. License is obtainable from the Conservation offices at Indiana polis, or from the custodians of the two properties. In sending for archery license give name, sex, age, residence, color of eyes, color of hair, weight and height. (Resident license is $1.50) Accommodations. In Brown county there are three cottages kept open throughout the winter of 193839 for hunters alnd archer-rovers. There is no set-up for winter sendees, but there is good hydrant water near. Wood is supplied. Cottages arc equipped with fireplaces or heating stoves or both and are comfortable. Parties do their own cooking, make their own fires and sweep out the cottage before leaving. They bring their blankets, cooking equipment and table ware. There is no charge for using these cabins at the present time. We Hoosier archers have slept in these cabins in October, November, December, January, February, March, April and early May, and have found them comfortable for one liking to rough it. The beds are good. Persons not wishing to use these cottages can find excellent hotel accommoda tions at the village of Nashville which is the county seat of Brown county. Those wishing to have a cabin should write me at once or as soon as possible and should obtain their hunting li censes in advance. Or they may ar range in advance for the cabins and stop at the Indianapolis offices and obtain licenses. In Steuben county there are hotel accommodations for hunters on Pq-
kagon State Park. Weather. Brown county is much milder than Pokagon with less snow and the cottages are good enough for winter use; that is, comfortably warm. Game. There are rabbits, quail and pheasants. Rabbit season, November 10 to January 10; quail, November 10 to December 20; pheasants, November 10 for five days excepting Sunday, November 13; that is November 10, 11, 12, 14, 15. You may also shoot foxes and wolves. There are many foxes and only a few wolves. Ruffed grouse, prairie chickens, wild turkeys and deer are protected. There are some deer in Brown county. Checking In. As soon as possible, check in with the custodian of the property you are on. Then report your kill before checking out. This is a courtesy that will be appreciated. Hunting. Hunting is only with bow and arrow and dogs are prohibited. The archer is his own hunter. Terrain. Both areas are hilly. Brown county is chiefly Weed Patch Hill, and the whole 23 square miles slopes up to the summit of this hill. Pokagan is glacial hills, with Hell’s Point as the highest and sloping from that down to the shores of James and Snow lakes. Clothing. Suggest good hunting clothing or old wool clothes, with rubber or hunting boots and good wool socks. Getting Lost. If you intend to get off the trails, carry a compass. If you get lost without a compass, go up hill. All slopes lead to Weed Patch Hill. Roving. Hoosier archers often hold roving meets in Brown county, travel ing the trails and shooting at stumps and logs. These meets take place after the hunting season. Nonresi dents are welcome to come in on Sat urday and remain over Sunday and camp out in the cottages. If these suggestions bring questions, we shall be glad to do our best to answer them. A. E. Andrews Dept, of Conservation
November, 1938
YE SYLVAN ARCHER
Newly elected officers of the Cleve land Archery club are William Aingworth, president; Howard Hicks, vicepresident; Mrs. Millie Chetister, sec retary; and Richard Neubecker, treas urer. The address of the secretary is 17401 Milburn Ave., Cleveland, Ohio.
LEARNS ABOUT FILMS (Continued from page 11) raw, so to speak. Archers in gen eral, and with reservations as stated, suspend their judgment. They hope for the best, but whether any last ing good for archery can come via Hollywood remains to be seen. And Ken, of all men, having recently set two world’s distance records, would seem to be out of place in these make-believe surroundings. His friends would hate to see him “go Hollywood’ in the accepted meaning of the term.
A BIT ABOUT FLIGHT (Continued from page 9) didn’t get his bow high enough, He always dropped it too low on his loose and I knew that, so I rigged up a point of aim with two sticks and had him rock back and forth. When he got near to where 1 thought was the correct elevation I’d yell “PULL”. Ken did pull and right away we began to get ’em out. I marked the sticks, and for several days we practiced that way. Finally Ken got so he knew when he was high enough and every time he loosed the arrow, it really went places. I’ll bet that guy is shooting twenty seven hundred feet come another President. When I start flight shooting I’m making a padded frame to lie down on so when I loose the arrow I’ll know know it’s going at the right elevalion. What’s the use of all the guess work nohow. After all I’ve helped Ken he thinks I’m just a good arrow monkey, but that helps some. LEMON WOO D (Continued from page 7) longbow. Of course these new designs are occasionally remarked to be a bit spectacular, and many archers pass them up for one reason or another. However a stock bow in the new short
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flat-limbed design was recently put over the jumps in a testing labora tory and found to surpass not only traditional longbows, but flat-limbed bows of traditional section and de sign. That time arc limb is the nuts, and no fooling. By way of closing I’d like to say to the hundreds of archers who here and there, last week and tomorrow, dis cover the ideal bow medium. Excep tional staves of practically any wood will make good bows. I’ve seen Palma Brava that didn’t splinter, Cocus that had cast, Maples that shot like Lemon wood and Ash that didn’t follow the string appreciably or fly to pieces when it had dried out. But exceptions remain exceptions. It is sustained, average, cumulative experience which decides whether a wood is or is not a bow wood. And Lemonwood very definitely is. Rarely brilliant, but almost always good, it is the wood that has made possible the great popularity of ar chery today. If for no other reason, it deserves affectionate monuments.
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Sample arrow 25c. Pair Yew billets, $2.50.—Harry D. Hobson, Salem, Oregon. 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. SUBSCRIBERS PLEASE NOTICE A cross appearing in this space means that your sub scription has expired and we w o u 1 d appreciate your prompt renewal so that your name may be kept on our mailing list.
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BACK NUMBERS YE SYLVAN ARCHER Volumes I to V Inclusive $1.00 Per Volume B. G. THOMPSON R. F. D. 1, Corvallis,. Oregon
Novembei-, 1938
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Friends, VYe Invite You to join in the fellowship of Sylvan Archers by subscribing to Ye Sylvian Archer, if you arc not already enrolled. Stories by Erie Stanley Gardner, Sasha Siemal. Dr. Cathey, Forrest Nagler, Capt. Styles, Dr. Klopstcg, B. G. Thompson, Walt Wilhelm, Reed Williams and many others. Articles by Russ Hoogerhyde, Paul Gordon, Harris Stafford, Earl Ullrich, John Willard, A. E. Andrews, and others. For only one dollar a year. Many sample copies of this issue are going to Physical Education Departments of Colleges and Universities. Many such departments are already receiving Ye Sylvan Archer and we hope that many more will place this magazine at the disposal of their students. We also, urge Physical Education departments, that are featuring archery in their curriculums to make use of our advertising columns when order ing archery tackle. Enclosed find one dollar for one year’s subscription to Ye Sylvan Archer. NAME
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