Reading Royals post brought back some great memories......
I would guess, my archery days started young, 7 / 8? years old? Don't know where my Father got it, but my "Indian Bow" showed up somehow. May have had something to do with my brother Allen. We owned a 2 family house on Riverview St. in Beverly Mass. located on the Bass River. I do mean off the river. Had a pier off the giant rock in the back yard.
Allen was a Hunter, and had a double barrel shotgun, a Bow, and maybe other items. He was a real expert with either. The house was two family, but never rented out, except to my older brothers as they returned from the Service, with Al brought Paul and I, target and bows to Innocenti Park, down near the Bowling Alley, across the Hall-Whittaker bridge.
There we practiced some Marksmen ship. I sucked, but Al was always on target. Over the next years, we would play "Cowboys and Indians" Remember doing that? With your Hopalong Cassidy or Roy Rogers Twin pistols and "Leather" fringed matching holsters! Of course i had my Indian bow for back up.
I would actually shoot the arrows at the "enemy". Never drawing back fully, after all, i didn't "really" want to kill anyone. Just "tap"them with an arrow. Never once figured i would shoot anyone in the Eye, or cripple them.
. One time i came close, i hit Tommy Daone in the left cheek, not hard, just enough to almost poke his eye out, and give him a little blue bruise on his cheek! Couldn't have hurt that much, after all, I only drew the string about a third of the full pull!
I don't remember too much, except somehow my Dad must of heard that big baby yelling or crying his sissy eyes out, cause, next thing i knew, my Dad had trotted directly to me, after he checked Tommys eye to make sure I didn't poke it, then grabbed my handful of Indian Arrows, and proceeded to snap them over his knee in to pieces! Holy Cow!! What did I do? Couldn't of hurt that bad! Big Sissy!
I was lucky twofold, 1. I didn't get one of those Indian Arrows whacked across my rear end, 2. Dad didn't break the Indian Bow in two! HE TRIED, but guess it was stronger than his knee, although he did make it appear he did!.
Now my BIG Hunting Adventure....
Prior to this situation, as kids, we would follow the paths along two wooded areas. If we wanted to follow the River Marsh, we would go to Tanzella's Hill, and walk the perimeter along the rivers edge, always finding washed up fishing gear, tackle boxes, bobba's etc.
The other side of Bridge St. was Greens Hill, a little larger area, where we would walk the upper trail, a path on the edge of the "dunes" where you could jump off the thirty foot bank or fall off, whatever your pleasure! This time had my trusty Indian Bow, and was gonna hunt Pheasant! If I ever hit one, which was doubtful, the plan was to bring it home to Al, and let him do his thing with it. I just wanted the feathers to add to My Bow!
As I and a friend, don't remember who, walked deeper into Greens Hill Woods, I suddenly saw a Pheasant on the edge of the path! I shot an Arrow, but being an amateur, missed, but the bird didn't move! We ran to it, and found it had been caught in a Bear trap! (well not really a bear trap, after all we was kids!) It was a small trap, that snapped it smooth jaws upon stepping on the trigger. Poor Bird! Led hanging off, but still alive! Well, I opened the trap, and figured i would bring the half dead bird home to Allen. Maybe even stretch the truth
a little, saying i hit it!
Walking thru the woods, we were excited,but felt, for the bird. Crossing Bridge St., Home in view,,across the cove, just reaching the opposite sidewalk, carrying Bird in one hand, my Indian Bow across my back, arrows in the other hand. A Elderly man was walking down Bridge St.,don't know where he came from, maybe had pulled over in a car, seeing such a sight! ..Yup, Great Hunter, Indian Bow, feathers, pheasant...Hmmmm.
The Gentleman approached us, asking what the story was...as he pulled out his Game Warden Badge!
I was young but knew what that was, but so what, I was too young to go to jail, and besides I did not harm the bird, I was saving its life!
I told the Warden the truth. He asked well what was I going to do with the bird? I thought quick, and told him, I was going to bring it to Johnny Hayes! He was a neighbor, and quite up there in age, but I knew he had been a Game Warden himself at one time.
Turns out, this man knew Ol Johnny. He took the bird, and quickly whacked its head on the sidewalk fence. I was in shock, but understood. He handed the dead bird back to me, and said something like" here you go, now bring it to John!" I did, but don't know what he did with it.
I don't think I ever did get any feathers from the bird either, but after that, i didn't want anything to do with it anymore! I don't know what became of my infamous Indian Bow, but I know, it was probably a good thing. Who knows what i would have done in later puberty!!
That was my extent of hunting.... Rj
a friend who craved a chance to fish the salt and whom i took along, looked at me funny when we reached the coast late that night......
No point in me explaining
