October 1938 by National Field Archery Association

I 71

October, 1938 Corvallis, Oregon Vol. 10

No. 6

Sylvan Archer No. G

October, 1938

Vol 10

Published the fifteenth of each month by

J. E. Davis and J. R. Todd

505 North 11th Street, Corvallis, Oregon Editor

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page OHIO BOAR HUNTERS By Walt Wilhelm .........

CALIFORNIA STATE TOURNAMENT ..

EDITORIAL

PASADENA ROVERS

MILWAUKEE “MAGIC ARROWS” 7 SHOW ..................................................... NEW RANGE OPENS

FIELD ARCHERS OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA By John L. Yount..................................

THE LIGHTER SIDE OF ARCHERY Edited by George Bromtners ............... 9

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Ohio Boar Hunters By Walt Wilhelm, Yermo, California We had just returned from a jaunt across the desert where we’d been showing the Ohio boys our country, and had given them an opportunity to stalk the wild jackasses. They’d spent so much time jamming around that their time was getting short and they’d planned to start for Ohio next day. Ken and I wanted to show them our wild boar country and we were trying to show them that they’d live just as long if they took a couple more days for a hog hunt. Well, we’d all gathered in Ed Hill’s base ment—and you Eastern birds aren’t the only ones that have basements for your archery shops—to watch Curt back brother Ed’s 100 pound osagc with sinew. Curt had the whole gang hammer ing, and shredding out sinew. “It’s going to bring ’er up a few pounds,” he told Ed, “but it’ll sure protect ’er old back.” “I’ll scrape ’er down to 95 pounds,” Ed said, “for that’s the weight I like best.” “You’d better take all of it,” Ken said, “if you’re

going up North to hunt boars with Walt and me, for there are sure some big ones up there.” “How long does it take to get to the hog coun try?” Curt asked as he held out a bunch of sinew and stripped off the glue with his fingers. “About four hours,” Ken answered, “and I never will forget the time I stalked a big one as he was rootin’ for acorns with his head under water. I got him too, but he surely gave me a battle, and I was using ninety pounds of darn good Oregon yew on him.” “You don’t mean he had his head clean under water, do you?” Bill Mink asked. “That’s right,” Ken answered, “You see the mud hole was under some big oaks, and the small hogs _ _ had gathered everything that fell1 on the ground, but this old boy ----was do ing pretty well divin’ for ’<em—and noise, he made more noise than a wild jackass in a tin barn. That’s the way 1 first located him.” “How big was he?” Curt asked.

I.if right ILyilL-------L UU, l/llll, I ill. lilt Left tn —JXt.ll, Ken, Ted, Carl, /rfU Ed and izrwi Curt fHill, and Bill Mink. Just, below Ted's shack and in the. heart of the. hog country.

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“Well, one ham with the foot on it weighed thirty pounds. We figured he’d go 350 easy enough.” Curt stop ped work, and Carl Oelschleger and Bill moved over close to where Ken was sitting on some cement sacks. I was plenty tickled for I could see that it wouldn’t be long- before we’d be leaving for the hog country. “How many times did you have to shoot a hog like that?” Bill asked,. “Only twice,” Ken answered, “you see he was standing with his Ms rear end to me, and every time he stuck his head under water I’d make a sneak, then when he came up for air I’d flop flat.” “Dammit,” Bill said, “what I want to know is how close did you get when you kicked the first arrow at him?” “About thirty yards. I shot from a kneeling positon and the old broad head hit him right in the root of the tail.” “A dirty trick if you ask me,” Carl interrupted. “Well,” Ken con tinued, “that first arrow paralyzed his rear end and he took right after me as fast as he could on his front legs; but I finished him with a shot through the heart at close range. It took Walt and me all day to get him down to the road—sure plenty of ’em up there.” Carl intended to leave next morn ing for a visit with Pop Prouty, and other Northwestern archers; but, as he looked at Curt and Bill, he said, “Men, I’m going hog hunting, what you say?” “Hell,” Bill said, “we’re half way there now, ain’t we Curt?” That settled it. They were going to do some flight shooting in Los Angeles next day so we all climbed into Ed’s big sedan, and with our outfit in Ken’s trailer we wheeled down to the flight shoot, and went directly from there to the boar country. Central and Southern California have some of the best boar hunting in America; and fortunately for the archers the land is all privately owned, which keeps the rifleman from shooting the hell out of it all. Most of the ranch owners are willing to play ball with the archers however, and, as long as they don’t molest the other game, and are careful about fires during the dry season, they have the privilege of hunting the year around. And what hunting it is! For the man that can’t make long trips

October, 1938

for big game, inland boar hunting is tops. Our channel island hogs are sluggish and you’d have to wound one at close quarters to make him charge, but our mainland boars are more ferocious and if you disturb one in any-manner you have a battle on your hands right now. The twenty-five thousand acre ranch where we hunted is not the largest in Central California by any means, but it’s one of the finest and best kept in America. The owner is a true sportsman and a he-man that will lasso and tie single-handed any dangerous boar. We got to the ranch about midnight, and went directly to Ted Carpenter’s cabin that’s located about ten miles from the main ranch house. Ted is a well known Santa Barbara artist during the winter months, but in summer he’s employed by two immense ranches as a range rider; in other words he gets to hunt all summer and gets paid for it. Lucky guy. Every day he patrols the lines, and keeps an eye out for poachers who many times shoot the deer from the highway, then return at night and sneak them out. He rides over the same mountains that were the stamp ing ground for such famous outlaws as Vasquez, and Three Fingered Jack in the early days. Ted doesn’t carry two guns like the old timers did, but instead he carries a quiver full of arrows, and a short hunting bow. There are thousands of deer on the ranches and they can be seen in. great numbers almost any time along the country *.........roads, so it’s part of Ted’s job to keep them frightened away from the highways. He docs the trick by shooting a specially de signed whistling arrow near them and it never takes more than a couple of shots to route the deer back into the brush. He was glad to have the bunch join him for a few days, but said, “It’s going to be tough hunting because the country is so dry. Shucks, a hog can hear you walking before you leave camp this time of year; but I know where there are some big ones and we’ll go after ’em in the morning.” When Ted says morning he means just that. It didn’t seem we’d slept oyer fifteen minutes when we heard him yell, “Scram into pants, you guys

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for the java’s a-boiling.” Curt jump ed up and landed smack in Ken’s middle, so Ken took him on and what a dog fight took place, growling and everything. “What the heck time is it?” Bill asked. “Quarter to four,” Ted answered, “and we’ve got to be on top of the mountain by the time you can see to shoot.” “Jeeze,” Carl sputtered, “do you have to hunt these damn hogs with flash lights?” Ted took us up the road a way in his hunting car, and told us to climb to the top of the mountain and as soon as we could see, to hunt around the heads of the canyons, and along the edge of the brush. Spreading out in this manner we had a chance of catching them feeding, or seeing them as they started for the brush to bed down for the day. Ken was in the lead as we started the steep climb, and he traveled like a mountain goat. “Take it easy,” I told him, “we ain’t a bunch of deer.” Well, after Ken told me what kind of clothes I should be wearing and just where the lace ought to be, we started climbing again. It didn’t do much good to try to hold Ken back, but when one of us would interrupt him he’d stop long enough to tell us what kind of old women we were, and we all got to rest while the argument took place, which helped some. We all got some shots during the early morning, but no one connected. Later we went right into the brush after them. Curt and Bill got in a thicket and had r‘hawgs” all around them but couldn’t get a shot because the dead limbs were in the way—and just leave it to a hog to keep obstacles in the way of arrows; they’re aces at it. Carl Oelschleger had been unusually quiet so I asked him if he’d seen any thing. “I decided to still hunt,” Carl said, “so I sat down under a giant, oak and just watched. Well, right ”T j 11 down the hill below me was a whole mess of hogs rooting around a fallen tree. I could see ’em moving the brush but couldn’t get a shot; about an hour after daylight they left and I never saw a hog.” “That was nothing but a little squirrel scratching around,” Ken said. “Yeah, or a wild house cat try ing to cover something up,” Bill cut in. “If you ask me,” Curt said, “I

think you heard a couple fawns romp ing around, there’s lots of ’em in these hills.” “Fawns or no fawns, cats or no cats,” Carl exploded, “I’ve seen enough razorbacks to know what a damn hog sounds like, and if you birds will go back with me I’ll show you the tracks.” He sort of had us on that one, and if we hadn’t gone back with him we’d had to shut up, so we went back. We climbed the moun tain and Carl showed us right where he’d sat under the oak tree. Then we climbed down to the fallen tree and what we found there made us all stand and stare at each other. Carl had things right. There had been several there and one of them left the largest tracks I’d ever seen; no doubt he’d weighed over four hundred pounds. Carl had won his point and from then on every one of us had to be careful and not make any mistakes for how that bird did pour it on us when he got the chance. At the foot of the hill we met Ted. He’d just had a phone call from the main ranch that some of the cow boys had roped, early that morning, one of the mean est boars they‘d ever taken on the ranch. We didn’t lose any time climb ing into Ed’s car and rushing over to see it. It took the foreman and three Spanish buckeroos to do the job and then the boar had cut their ropes many times and wounded a couple horses before they got him tied and loaded on a truck. They had him in an especially built pen and the foreman warned us to be careful and slip up quietly to look him over. As soon as they untied him he’d slipped his nose under some smaller pigs and tossed them over an eight foot fence, so they didn’t want to excite him any more than necessary because there were a few more pigs in the pen with him. The old boy would weigh around three hundred fifty pounds and had a big mane all around his neck like an Af rican lion. With his five inch tusks glistening in the sun he was the tough est looking hog I’d ever seen. None of us got very close to him but any time one would move he’d make a charge in our direction and hit the fence like a locomotive. (Continued on page 5)

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October, 1938

California State Tournament By Sam Moorman, Data Courtesy L. A. Hodfjert Saturday, October 1, dawned bright, crisp, and clear for the Fifth Annual California State Archery Association Tournament, held this year at Mo desto, in Central California. Flight and clout shooting was held Saturday morning at the Modesto Municipal Golf Course. Weather con ditions were ideal. The sun shone warmly, a faint breeze tempering the heat of its rays. All the archers sur veyed their surroundings and the 600 yard flight range with evident satis faction. Except Ken Wilhelm. He stoutly maintained the 600 fairway was too short. They all laughed when he sat down to draw his little 225 pound bow; so did Ken when all his arrows flew over the far end of the range. When final measurements were taken and duly witnessed tel egraph wires hummed with the news that Ken Wilhelm of Barstow, Calif ornia had shot an arrow 758 yards and 12 inches, almost half a mile! Waggish archers in the know who failed to find two of Ken’s arrows solemnly declared that the truant shafts are even now resting in the brush somewhere on the far bank of the Tuolumne River, some 950 yards distant from the shooting line! Ken’s remarkable record was made with an Osage foot bow fashioned by Bruce Robinson of Milwaukee. The arrow that sped toward heaven, sailed majestically through the blue, then with a tired sigh returned to earth 758 yards away was a gift from Curt Hill of Dayton, Ohio, himself a re doubtable flight shooter. Ken says there is an ambition near his heart to visit San Francisco, tak ing with him a 400 pound flight bow, and making a shot from the City of Seven Times Seven Hills to Oakland across the bay. Some of these days— It is to be expected that many ar chers the world over may be skeptical of the authenticity of this new world, record. It has been sent to the Na tional Archcry Association over the signatures of H. C. McQuarrie, M. D. Barber, L. H. Atkinson, Roy D. Myers, and A. B. Downing, witnesses. The last named was Field Captain for the

tournament. Although Ken’s remarkable per formance in the free style flight slioot overshadowed other marks that day, observant archers will want to know of his distance of 483 yards 1 foot in the unlimited class. According to statistics, this breaks the existing national record in this event. Babe Bitzenburger of Los Angeles, shooting Class 1 flight in the Ladies’ Division, turned in a creditable dis tance of 308 yards, using a thirtyfive pound bow. In the Ladies’ Clout, held immed iately following the flight, Helen Little of Los Angeles scored over Bea Hodgson and Babe Bitzenburger of the same city with 276, distance 120 yards. The last two named turned in 264 each, Bea Hodgson, having the greater number of golds, received second place. Willard Bacon, of Redondo Beach, who gave such a good account of him self throughout the tournament, took the Men’s Clout with 203. Harold At kinson of San Francisco and L. Yeaman of Los Angeles, turned in scores of 182 and 173 respectively, distance for the event, 180 yards. Saturday afternoon, a time that brought with it trepidition and that feeling of waiting for a surprise co some archers, was set aside for Field Archery; no other event was shot. All target archers who wished there by had the opportunity of participat ing in this event. The range at Beard Brook Park had been laid out pre viously by Ken Wilhelm, who arrived Friday morning in order that he have time to properly lay out the course and set the targets. This target might be the wily jack rabbit ready to make a dash, the next might be a coyote at the entrance of his den, the one standing there under that live oak a deer. Ruthlessly ar chers cut them down. A miss? Why, lauo-h about it! Clap the unlucky one on the back. Whoop and holler all you want! Relax. You’re shooting Field Archery now. No fear that you’ll disturb someone’s aim. Kid the boys, make ridiculous bets with them.

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Call your shots, then make them if you can. A sport for the men! It’s a sport for the ladies, too. One gracious lady, whom many of us know as Mrs. Ruth Hodgert, former National Wo mens’ Champion, was heard to remark to her husband: “Come on and go ’round, honey. It’s lots of fun! I’ve lost four of my best arrows but I think I’ll try it again.” An odd characteristic of one four some in which Art Downing and Ken Wilhelm were shooting was that when Art called a target "a rabbit he nailed him and usually emerged high bow for the end. Ken won the event in the men’s division, close trailed by Willard Bacon. Basil May of Albany annexed the Junior Field Archery and proved his metal at the targets Sunday by tak ing that type of shooting to his own. When the last ends were shot and scores totalled, the president of the association, Len Hodgert, brought a successful tournament to an end by awarding remaining trophies and thanking all the California archers for their assistance and cooperation. Styles, one of the happiest men in the world on this day, was announced as victor in the tournament. Veteran of the target range, hunter in the field, Cassius Styles will long be remember ed as one of the West Coast’s pioneers in the rebirth of Archery. Willard Bacon was second and “Spick” Spansel third. Bea Hodgson was first in Women’s division, Ruth Hodgert sec ond and Helen Little third. Sacramento received the bid for the 1939 tournament, the Board of Con(Continued on page 11)

OHIO BOAR HUNTERS (Continued from page 3) “It’s very seldom that you can get a rope on a baby with tusks like his,” the foreman told us, “because they can cut a rope as fast as you can hang it on ’em. The big ones never get; very far from thick brush either and stay where there’s lots of rocks. They use the same trail almost all the time going to bed down; and what I mean they won’t give the trail to any thing that ever roamed the woods.” Curt looked at the old boar as it stood squared off in the pen, shifted his hat to one side, and as he spat

he asked, “Say, Ted, what kind of trails were those in that oak brush where Bill and I crawled around this morning?” “Big boar trails, every one of ’em,” Ted answered, “nothing but a boar, or a lion would go into a place like that.” Curt and Bill looked at the boar; then stood and looked at each other. “Wouldn’t we have been in one hcllofa fix if we’d met one like that?” Bill asked, “when half the time we were crawling on our bellies.” “Believe me,” Carl said, “when I still hunt after this I’m still going to use my oak tree, but I’m going to be watching from the top of it.” There wasn’t a man in the bunch that didn’t do a little thinking as we watched that boar charge and break heavy planks like they were matches. Later in the day the old boy charged a big oak, knocked himself senseless and died of exhaustion. The thought of meeting a hog like that in the woods at close quarters would make cold chills run up any archer’s spine, but those birds went right back time after time in the thick brush and tried to get a pair of tusks to take back to Ohio. We didn’t get a boar but every man saw hogs, and got a few shots, not good shots per haps but the thrill of loosing a broad head at a dangerous animal was well worth the time and effort—and hunt ing boars in any man’s country is no cinch. We saw hundreds of deer every day, many big bucks at close range. We all saw many coyotes; Carl just missed a big one at twenty yards; it takes a hunter to get that close to a coyote. We all watched Ken stalk a coyote that was digging out a squirel and saw him jump ten feet in the air when Ken’s arrow kicked dust just under his belly. It was a good 125 yard shot, but we got a lot more fun out of just watching the coyote buck, and run than we would have if Ken’s arrow had killed him. After all it isn’t what you kill that makes a trip a sucess; it’s what the hunters do, and say, and the stump hunting around camp that makes a hunt worth while. So when any one asks our crowd if we got anything we’ll tell ’em just what Erie Stanley Gardner would tell ’em, “You’re darn right. We got just what we went after—a good time.”

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October, 1938

Editorial The Gardner. - Cathey - Thompson moose hunting expedition into British Columbia bagged, as well as numerous stumps, three moose; and we are promised a whole series of moose stories. We hope to have Gardner’s version for the November issue. Not wishing to cramp Gardner’s style in any way, we are mentioning no de tails at this time; but we still think the world lost a masterpiece alibi when Thompson failed in election to Klopsteg’s “Society of Moose Missers.”

New Member for S M M Forrest Nagler says: “Bill Folberth, Sr., is to meet me Friday October 7th, to go North for moose with the bow. We will be in the same region where Messrs. Case and Klopsteg tried their luck last year and we will try to bring you some kind of a story. “At least, we will be quite sure of one more member in the society of “moose missers.” However, on the other hand, Folberth may become a post-graduate on his first trip.”

Takes Pen in Hand

Pasadena Rovers

Ken Wilhelm has been making headlines lately, but his brother Walt has done even better in by-lines. The October issue of Field and Stream runs his story of a blow gun hunt, in Death Valley. Walt is a real writer, as well as a real hunter. No less an authority than Erie Stanley Gardner says so. The editor of Field and Stream evi dently agrees. There are no hairraising charges in the story, no dra matics, no striving for effect. It takes real talent to take such a rel atively unimportant matter and make story that will sell out of it.

If.you start from the beautiful Pas adena archery range and leap from boulder to boulder across the Arroya Seco vou come to a lovely sylvan glade on the other side. Here Henry Bitzenburger and a few of the faith ful, (blamed few, we are told) have laid out the new rover range. The Herculian task of dragging bales of straw through the thicket was accom plished with judgment. Steps were cut in the hillside where they would do most good and shrubs and bumps leveled in strategic places. Thus a real interesting course was created with a variety of up, down, over, under, through, between and around shots that should give a workout to the most experienced hunter, and praise be, most of it in the shade. The targets bore likeness of birds and animals and an element of tragedy was added by penalizing five points when an arrow hit the limb on which a bird was sitting, etc. Forty-two archers showed up for the first shoot and twenty-five of them became charter members of the new club. Larry Hughes showed that he could sling the shafts regardless of points of aim and won the shoot. R. Quaile was second and Bob Statler third. Bea Hodgson was the winning wo man, Babe Daulley and Roxie Yeaman second and third. The Junior winners were, Cliff Donnico, Raymond Kelso and Bill Thornton. —R. W.

■J

Stewart Edward White and Presi dent John P. Cuneo at the San Francisco tournament.

We have some fine hunting stories coming up.

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Milwaukee “Magic Arrows” Show B

Sunday afternoon, September 11, a. Milwaukee audience of 17,000 people witnessed the most amazing display of archery talent in the history of the sport. The show was new from start to finish, every phase of it was new, not' only to archers, but to the gen eral public as well. The star per former was Ken Wilhelm, who trav eled from Barstow, California, to Mil waukee to work with Larry Whiffen. in the trick shooting act, which was pointed up in the publicity as the big attraction and it proved to be all that the advance publicity said it would. In the first place the show which was put on through the cooperation of the Milwaukee Journal, Was named “Mag ic Arrows” and it proved to be a mag netic name. The show was staged in a new open air theater in one of the parks where there is a seating ca pacity of 13,000. That filled up long before the show opened and four thousand people craned their necks standing back of the seats and to the side. Many thousands more came out to see the show but were turned away. Those who were fortunate enough to find a place to sit or stand were un fortunate enough to have to sit through a fifteen minute downpour of rain, even that couldn’t drive them away. “Magic Arrows” was more than a trick shooting demonstration. It was a real show made up of five acts and accompanied by a twelve-piece or chestra. The show presented the his tory of archery in a series of tab leaux : there was a comedy act, a modern dance act in the archery theme, the trick shooting act and an ensemble number with a cast of thirty archers. All told there were 55 arch ers in the cast and the show lasted just two hours. Too much credit cannot be given to Larry Whiffen who single handed wrote and pro duced the show as well as taking part in it, but to all the rest of thei Milwaukee archers must go a great deal of credit for carrying out their parts in presenting the most profes sional looking amateur production that can be imagined. This was the unanimous concensus of opinion of 17,000 people who sat through a rain

storm to watch it. Whoever has an idea that archery has no place in the show world should go to Milwaukee and see what they can do with it there.

New Range Opens The Los Angeles Park Department has fixed up a section of Griffith Park, out by the National Guard airport where sixteen butts are in place, spaced at more than seven yards apart, so five men can shoot on the same target without undue crowding. The first shoot, an open tournament, was held on September 18th, by the Elysian club. Eighty-two archers registered and a number of others came with good intentions after the game started and found them selves too late to get into the game. What are we coming to when archers have to be in time or else? Willard Bacon carried off the hon ors for the men and shot his first perfect end in competition. Warren Wardman also made a perfect end but that is hardly news. Pfooi, he made two in the last month. The scores? Willard Bacon, York, 695; American 637; total 1332. Frank Harper, York 674; American 624; total 1298. Rex Gordon, York 625; American 616; total 1241. President Bergstrom was rather severe with Frank for not doing better, with the result that Harper turned his tackle over to Doug Easton with instruc tions to sell it to the first bidder. However, Easton was routed out of bed shortly after midnight with in structions to cancel the order and if it should be too late, to get up right then and p*o to work on another set of arrows. All this we learned next morning from Frank’s long suffering wife when we strolled out to the range at seven o’clock and found them prac tising. Frank was just finishing a York round. He must have started in the dark. The women’s scores: Bea Hodgson, Columbia 512; National 449; total 961. Ilda Hanchett, Columbia 492; Na tional 421: total 913. Phyllis Rob erts, Columbia 499; National 397; (Continued on page 11)

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October, 1938

Southern California Field Archers By John L. Yount, Secretary

A Tournament with Ohio We are going to do our very best to open the fall season in a blaze of glory. There will be a new course in Redlands for the Association to use this coming year. The course will be opened by an invitational shoot of the Redlands Archery Club, which is a tournament with Ohio State October 16. The Ohio archers, for their State tournament on that date, are putting in a course of rovers with the same measurements as the new Redlands one, and with as near the same haz ards as possible, so if you have neg lected to get in on this shoot it will be interesting to check your scores against those made here and in Ohio. A little more about this course: Redlands has spent considerable time and no small amount of filthy lucre to make it a real one. Come out and tell the boys where they have made mistakes and how they can improve things. When you do, you may get told where you can go, but, of course, you don’t have to go. Turkey Shoot We are putting this announcement out one month ahead of time for one purpose only: To get you to save your money, boys—save you money. Yes, and you girls too! Don’t let oppor tunity knock at your door November 23 and find you haven’t the price. Remember the wife and kiddies, cut down your smoking, even your drinks, anything to be sure you have the nec essary cash when the day rolls around. What’s Thanksgiving without a tur key? If you think you are lucky, you will find that kind of a shot. If it is a test of skill that you are look ing for, there will be plenty to take you. If it is balloons, you can have them. Redlands aims to please. This turkey hoot comes in the af ternoon and the regular round of rovers of the FAASC in the morning. Woody Gets a Buck E. J. Woodward, better known as “Woody,” went out where the rifle men were having very poor luck and got himself a mighty nice three point buck, with nothing but his trusty bow. We have been trying to explain to

him it was merely a matter of luck. Up to the time of going to press we don’t believe we have convinced him. Ken Shows 'em Tricks Ken Wilhelm is back from a sort of glorified barnstorming expedition into Larry Whiffen’s territory. Appar ently this man Whiffen is no small potatoes when it comes to publicity. He is the first man we know of who can get out archery spectators by the thousands and then prove it in pic tures. Of course, we all know that he had something to work with when he had Ken. When it comes right down to skill combined with an iron nerve, we don’t believe Ken has an equal. That fellow just naturally can pick his teeth with an arrow and not crack the enamel. On second thought, I’m rather sorry I brought the subject up, he may want to try it sometime. What gets our goat is that he doesn’t claim to be much of an archer and seems to think anyone can do such little things with a bit of practice. I am glad to see Ken getting some of the publicity he deserves. As a “self-made archer” ht is Exhibit No. 1. I don’t know where he got the bug or his first bow, but I do know that he was feeding rabbits to a bunch of hound dogs out on the desert, where he was in charge of a Govern ment air field, before he knew what another archer looked like. Being by nature a sociable sort of cuss he used to come in and shoot target with some of us before there was any field shooting. He didn’t like it, just want ed company, and his score was right down at-the bottom. You can see we didn’t think him much of an archer until some of the fellows began going hunting with him and Walt. Then how the Wilhelm stock skyrocketed! Keep it up, Ken, but just one prayer: “May your arrow never hit a little too close.” The City of Modesto is consideringthe park in which the state shoot was held as a permanent range for the Modesto Archery club. The park has space for fifteen targets.

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The Lighter Side of Archery By THE DOGHOUSE PHILOSOPHERS

Speed and Stamina By Chester Stevenson Much has been said about the speed and stamina of the Eastern Oregon mule deer. The editor has asked of ten for an example for comparison with deer of other sections. The fol lowing incident happened two years ago last hunting season and I do not remember all the details, but will do the best I can. It was our first hunt in the Canyon Creek archery preserve and the stout bowmen were surely out in force. About 200 bowmen were scattered about the 140 square miles, camped along the John Day-Burns highway and all the way up Canyon Creek. Sixteen of us were grouped four miles above Wickiup on Canyon Creek. From this point we hunted/ the headwaters of Canyon Creek, East Fork and Wall Creeks. Grover Gouthier and I were camped together in this group. The first morning we began to see mule deer immediately after leav ing camp. They were mostly does and yearlings. Higher up we jumped some bucks and commenced to see some speed. Grover spied a small buck at about 60 yards. He was standing broadside and we decided to both shoot at the same time. As the bows flashed, the buck jumped and when the arrows struck where he had been the deer was going over the hill 400 yards away. We never had see such fleetness. The next couple of shots were at running deer and the heavy broadheads fluttered as they crossed the air stream thirty yards behind. One even turned at right angles and followed the buck a short distance. We were puzzled and in figuring what to do, decided to lead them about forty yards if they were running and, if standing, to shoot thirty yards to each side think ing they might jump into the arrow. We had no chance to try this out that day however and on reaching camp found 14 other puzzled hunters. We slept on it that night and next morning figured we would slicker a big one. We .passed by a number of bucks as they were small and we

were not sure which way they would jump. It was annoying but we knew it would be a sheer waste of effort and arrows. About ten o’clock, as we peeked over the rim, a big buck, in fact the granddaddy of them all, jumped from his bed immediately be low us. The first couple of jumps he kicked so much gravel in our faces we were blinded and helpless and could not shoot. However it was just as well for when the dust cleared away; he stopped. There he stood about 80 yards away looking back over his shoulder at us. We were mad and shot, both at once, those two big broadheads sailing up and over, side by side, looking as though they would both strike, one on either side of his big mule tail. But no, when they were ten feet away he jumped like a blue streak and the last we saw of him he was going over the mountain 500 yards away with both arrows following side by side behind him. We sat down and cried for a while. How could we get one of these big bucks? Here we had had a perfect set up and he had simply run away from the arrows. Would we have to make our bows heavier and our arrows lighter and faster? What was the answer? Our bows were now 80’s and fast. “Well, Deer spring is only a mile away, let’s go eat and think it over.” As we approached the spring we saw Ted Hunter and Schroeder and Harry Hobson consid erably excited. They calmed down enough to tell us that about ten o’clock, or a few minutes after, a big buck high tailed it over the ridge near them, with what looked like a couple of arrows sailing along be hind him. Grover and I looked at each other in surprise. But more was to come. Soon Dr. Hibbard Jr. came in all jittery. Doc said he had been taking a nap on the mountain; there came a crash and he woke up in time to see a big buck jump right over him, and while his eyes were only half opened he was sure there were two feathered arrows immediately behind it. Before we finished eating our lunch, Harry Price and John Cooter

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

came in. They told us they had seen a big twelve point buck tearing across the glade above them with two ar rows following behind. When we asked them why they didn’t shoot, Harry said he had broken his bow string and Cooter was straighting his broadhead which he had shot at a. ground hog shortly before. Grover and I were more puzzled than ever. That buck seemed to have gone all over the mountain; and those arrows, we couldn’t understand. We decided to go back to camp by way of Wall Creek. On the way, we ran across Earl Ullrich sitting on a log crying. In telling us what was the matter, he said he didn’t know, it all happened so quickly. “What happened so quickly?” “Well, a big buck with five points on one side and six on the other jumped right over me and right behind him came two broadhead arrows, one had a red cock feather and was revolving once every ten feet. The other had a white cock feather and turned once in five feet. That’s all I had time to notice.” We offered to help Earl back to camp. We started down Wall Creek and were startled by a crashing in the brush above us. We were ready to shoot in an instant, when some thing popped into view. No game, it was only John Albin. When he could speak, he told us he had seen a big doe going like greased lighting with something sailing along behind it in the air. As John is more than half blind we felt sure he was mistaken and that it was our buck. As we went slowly down the creek helping John and Earl, we were overtaken by Ned Myers and Ken Clayton. They had been hunting the big burn early in the afternoon and had seen an enor mous buck dash across the deadfalls with two big hunting arrows sailing along only a few feet behind. Could we believe that? We had an easier time then with Ned and Ken to help us with John and Earl. When we reached camp, Thompson and Eggleston were there. They saw us and both began to yell at once. What had we seen? They had seen a big buck tearing all over the mountain with two arrows following behind him. With the exception of Albin’s the stories seemed to agree fairly well, Grover and I decided to

October, 1938

keep quiet a little longer. Down the trail ino camp a little later came Dr. Hibbard Sr. and his big black dog. Had he seen anything? Sure he had counted forty-eight deer, shot at four nice bucks and he had seen a big buck going places with two arrows following behind. More mys tery. Supper was eaten and eight, nine and ten o’clock came and passed. Our party was short, two men were mis sing, John Davis and John Hubler. Where were they? That mountan was no place to travel in the dark. We had decided they had built a fire and would lay out. About eleven o’clock however we heard a noise up the can yon and soon here they came splash ing right down the creek into camp. They had made it down in the dark. Had we see any thing unusual on the mountain? They had seen a big buck traveling at high speed over the mountain with two broadhead arrows right behind him. Grover and I surely had something to think about in our blankets that night. What would we say? Early the next morning up the creek from Wickiup came Tom Irvin. Had we seen any fast deer? He had seen the fastest thing on four feet, a big ten point buck crossing East Fork with two arrows right behind him. Grover and I stopped to figure. It was fifteen miles from where Tom Irvin had seen the deer to wQiere Dr. Hibbard was. We were between them when we shot the arrows, so the buck must have run past Hibbard, then back tracked past us to East Fork. But that wasn’t all. It was later re ported on the sage flats near Seneca, twenty miles south, by Claud Lampert and Dr. Hewitt, and the next morning by Kore Duryee near Strawberry Mt., 16 miles north. Mr. Lampert said that the arrows were quite a ways behind as the deer crossed the flat, but Duryee said they were real close as he went up over the rough moun tain side. Was the buck tiring aud what be came of him? What happened when he finally had to slow down and stop? This has been a mystery to Grover and me, and, I suppose, to the other fellows too. Now, however, I think our problem is solved, thanks to Jim Stovall and Sid Claypool whose scien-

October, 1938

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

tific minds have figured out that our big buck jumped so quickly as the arrows approached that it formed a vacuum in the air stream behind him. The arrows caught in this vacuum and after that his teriffic speed kept them in place. Sequel: Russell Jones, Howard Richards and Clare Hamlin while hunting in the forest in Murders Creek this year found two hunting broadheads sunk deep into the bark of a large pine tree. These proved to be ours and now Mr. Stovall has figured that the buck on entering the forest and about to run into a tree, turned so quickly that the arrows could not make the turn and stuck fast in the pine.

NEW RANGE OPENS (Continued from page 7) total 896. The women nobly over looked certain inconveniences due to the unfinished condition of their end of the field which seems to be cut on the bias for reasons known only to the park department. All that will be remedied at an early date. Andy Johnstone was head man of the iuniors with Bernice Gunn sec ond and Marian Hickok third. —R. W.

CALIFORNIA TOURNAMENT (Continued from page 5) trol to set the date at a later meeting. Officers newly elected are: Dr. W. II. Pope of Sacramento, President; Jim Hendrix of Sacramento, VicePresident; and Mrs. Hendrix of Sac ramento, Secretary-Treasurer. Board of Control members are: “Spic” Spansel of Berkley, Harold McQuarrie of Berkeley, L. A. Hodgert of Modesto, Rav Hodgson and Ilda Hanchett, Los Angeles.

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Wild West Glendale According to radio reports a Glen dale, California, archer went on a toot and, taking bow and arrows, proceeded to shoot out the street lights. He has laid away his bow for six months while he spends the time in the hooscgow.

CLASSIFIED ADVERTISING RATES for Classified Advertising 5 cents per word per issue. Count initials and numbers as words. Mini-

mum charge is 50 cents. RELICS AND CURIOS

INDIAN RELICS, Beadwork, Coins, Curios, Books, Minerals, Weapons. Old West Photos. Catalog, 5c. Genuine African Bow, 53.75. Ancient flint arrowheads, perfect, 6c each— ------ Indian Museum, Northbranch, Kansas. ARCHERY TACKLE

BIRCH of the best quality we have seen at the price. 3-8 in., 60c per doz.; 5-16 in., 45c per doz., postpaid. Stafford, Dallas.

BOWS, ARROWS, raw materials, Lloyd Morrison, Lowest prices. Waldport, Oregon. ARCHERY BOWS—From the heart of the yew country. W. I. King Woodworking Shop, 1958 1-2 Onyx St., Eugene, Ore. BROADHEADS — $1.75 and $2.00^ dozen. Formerly $3.00 and $3.60 a dozen. Paul Leyda, Archery Sup plies, South Oil City, Pa.

YEW BILLETS $2.50 and $3.50. Staves $3.50 and $5.00. P. O. Shafts, straight or tapered, any size 5c each. All postpaid. Leon Chapin, Box 139, Albany, Ore. MATCHED ARROWS—Not merely sanded to weight, but matched spine, weight and dimension. Built only as Hobson can build them. Self arrows $2.50 a set. Footed $4.40. Sample arrow 25c. Pair Yew billets, $2.50.—Harry D. Hobson, Salem, Oregon.

BOOKS AND MAGAZINES

•‘ARCHERY,” by Robert P. Elmer M. D., revised edition, most com plete book on archery published. 566 pages of valuable information for colleges, libraries, schools, camps archery clubs and individuals. Price $5.00 postpaid, orders to Ye Sylvan Archer, 505 North 11th street, Corval lis, Oregon. ‘‘ARCHERY TACKLE. HOW TO MAKE AND HOW TO USE IT.” by Adolph Shane. Bound in cloth and illustrated with more than fifty draw

YE SYLVAN ARCHER

ings and photographs. Information for making archery tackle and in structions for shooting. Price is $1.75. Send orders to Ye Sylvan Archer, 505 North 11th street, Corvallis. SUBSCRIBERS PLEASE NOTICE A cross appearing in this space means that your sub scription has expired and we would appreciate your prompt renewal so that your name may be kept on our mailing list.

October, 1938

BACK NUMBERS YE SYLVAN ARCHER Volumes I to V Inclusive $1.00 Per Volume B. G. THOMPSON R. F. D. 1, Corvallis, Oregon

HARRIS M. STAFFORD

L. L. “Flight” DAILY

Master Fletcher

offers you “Tackle That Talks” Dry Cedar and Yew Catalogue Free 245 Pearl, Eugene, Oregon

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GILMAN KEASEY 700 N. 3d St. Corvallis, Ore.

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WIN WITH BEN PEARSON ARROWS Beautiful and accurate to the Nth degree but win their real laurels on the range. Arrows made as arrows should be—and at prices you can afford to pay. Send for catalogue.

BEN PEARSON, INC. — PINE BLUFF, ARK.

Aluminum Bow Tips Special 35c per pair, 3 for $1.00 ’/« or % hole. Sample on request. G. R. ENGSTROM 9210 San Antonio Ave. South Gate, California

Shooting Gloves Arm Guards Quivers Target Faces Bow Cases

Arcadian Life Magazine

New Catalogue now Ready

Tells the Story of the Ozarks Nature, Health, Folklore, pre sented in a charming wav. Published monthly in the backhills where the highway meets the by-ways. $1.00 pays for three years’ subscription. Sin gle copy, 15c. Try a classified ad in our Market Place. $1.00 pays for three insertions of your thirty word advertisement. Short Pastoral Poems Wanted 0. E. RAYBURN, Editor Caddo Gap, Arkansas

BEAR PRODUCTS CO.

Wholesale and Retail

Beacon Hill Craftsmen Beacon, N. Y. Paul H. Gordon, Director NOVEMBER SPECIAL—Bar bour’s Best Irish Flax Bow string Thread, No. 10, 25c per ball; No. 12, 33c per ball. Post paid. Write for Catalog

HANDBOOK-Ho- to Mako and U*o Bow* and Arrow* —90 Pagat wall illuitratad {with catalog] 35c

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“THE MARK OF DISTINCTION IN ARCHERY TACKLE Fine Yew Target and Hunting Bows, Plain or Backed with Rawhide. Lemonwood Bows with Rawhide Backs. College and School Equipment Target, Hunting and Roving Arrows Price List on Request Wholesale — Retail EARL GRUBBS 5518 W. Adams Los Angeles, : California

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Bowyer — Fletcher Tournament Tackle, Sinew, Glue, Raw Materials. op 8S on CATALOG-100 picture*—color 245 University Ave •proed—Imtruction Foldor. 10c. CINCINNATI, OHIO CATALOG alooo 5c. Stamp* or Coin. Custom Made Tackle Only ^^g^LEZTEMMLER-QUEEN/VILUGENy I— --............ -3J The Flat Bow—70 pages of Archery information for 50 cents, well illus Please mention Ye Sylvan Archer trated. Ye Sylvan Archer, 505 N. when writing advertisers. 11th St., Corvallis, Oregon.

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Bowyer and Fletcher 601 N. 4th Street Sturgis : Michigan Custom Built Tackle of Super-Cast After all the bow that can prove its superiority is the bow that archers are proud to own. Osage Hunting Bows $20.00 to $35.00 Yewwood Hunting Bows $15.00 to $35.00 Lemonwood Hunting Bows Rawhide Backed $12.00 BIG HUNTING SPECIAL Douglas Fir self hunting ar rows, fiber nocks, large non whistling feathers, 57 Gr. Kiska hunting head 15-16 in. by 1 3-4 in. any length arrow for any weight bow, beautifully crested. Price $5.00 per doz. postpaid anywhere in USA. No dealer’s discount on this offer (for this fall only). Barnes Bows and Arrows are known the world over for Quality

— ULLRICH WOOD — The Choice of Champions Why handicap yourself at the coming meets? Use the best materials available in making up your tackle. Folder and Price List on Request E. L. ULLRICH — Roseburg, Ore.

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