Art Eatman
Moderator In Memoriam
Falcon's photos in the Trophies Show & Tell thread, of the coyote and the fox, brought back memories from right at sixty years ago.
Summer of 1948, there was a Real Injun at Boy Scout camp. Naturally, he was called, "Chief". I was already reading stuff like Ernest Thompson Seton's "Two Little Savages" and "Yan in the Woods", so that session at camp was hog heaven for a country kid.
Home again, I wuz gonna be a Real Injun. Can't be an Injun without your bonearrer, right? I therefore learned the mysteries of cedar. And turkey feathers and barrel hoop. To cut to the chase, my fourth or fifth effort was a simple, 40-pound bow.
We'd had a calf die from screwworms, so I skinned it out and soaked the hide in mud until the hair came off. I then cut a long, long, long single strip of rawhide, about a half-inch wide. I wrapped the bow and let it dry. No way the wood could ever split.
I'd catch one of the neighbor's turkeys for wing feathers. I made arrow heads from barrel hoop. The bow string, and the nylon thread and glue were store-bought.
I killed a few rabbits, a couple of rattlesnakes, and one fox. My mother did NOT appreciate snake skins.
The highlight was a week out and about across a few ranches, on horseback. A buddy of mine came along. We'd let down a fence, cross, and re-staple. Only one rancher ever saw us, and when we showed fence pliers and staples, he just grinned, shook his head and made some snide remark about kids...
We never did find a wagon train to ambush. I did manage to ambush a baby spike deer one evening at a spring, so we ate good for a couple of meals. Meat doesn't last long, outdoors in summer.
We definitely stood in dire need of showers when we got home...
Art
Summer of 1948, there was a Real Injun at Boy Scout camp. Naturally, he was called, "Chief". I was already reading stuff like Ernest Thompson Seton's "Two Little Savages" and "Yan in the Woods", so that session at camp was hog heaven for a country kid.
Home again, I wuz gonna be a Real Injun. Can't be an Injun without your bonearrer, right? I therefore learned the mysteries of cedar. And turkey feathers and barrel hoop. To cut to the chase, my fourth or fifth effort was a simple, 40-pound bow.
We'd had a calf die from screwworms, so I skinned it out and soaked the hide in mud until the hair came off. I then cut a long, long, long single strip of rawhide, about a half-inch wide. I wrapped the bow and let it dry. No way the wood could ever split.
I'd catch one of the neighbor's turkeys for wing feathers. I made arrow heads from barrel hoop. The bow string, and the nylon thread and glue were store-bought.
I killed a few rabbits, a couple of rattlesnakes, and one fox. My mother did NOT appreciate snake skins.
The highlight was a week out and about across a few ranches, on horseback. A buddy of mine came along. We'd let down a fence, cross, and re-staple. Only one rancher ever saw us, and when we showed fence pliers and staples, he just grinned, shook his head and made some snide remark about kids...We never did find a wagon train to ambush. I did manage to ambush a baby spike deer one evening at a spring, so we ate good for a couple of meals. Meat doesn't last long, outdoors in summer.
We definitely stood in dire need of showers when we got home...
Art
