Outdoors With John L. Sloan Copyright John L. Sloan, 9-2010
Sept1, 2010

A Bow Of His Own.

I had noticed him watching me sometimes late of an afternoon when I shot a few arrows on my backyard range. Each time he kept getting a little closer. I knew his dad had died young of a heart attack and his mom was working two jobs. They had it kinda rough.

One afternoon I waved him over. “Kina interested in archery?” I asked. “What do you do with it?” He asked. I allowed I hunted with it, all kinds of game. Wanta see some of them?” “I sure do.” He answered so I took him up to my office and his eyes got big at all the heads and bows on the wall.

“Think I could try it?”

“These bows are all too heavy for you. We need to find a lighter draw weight. These are all 70-75 pound pull. You need something around 50 pounds that will match your draw length.” After explaining that, I measured him at 28 inches.

“How much does one cost?” He asked. I knew times were tough so I said, “Let me do a little looking around. Maybe I can find a good used one for not much.”

A few days later, I made a trade for a serviceable Hoyt with a new string and six matching arrows. I set it with one sight pin and tuned it. That afternoon I waved him over and took him through the drill. Then I handed him the bow and showed how to knock an arrow. I told him to just hold the pin steady on the dot and let his fingers relax. By the end of the week, I moved the target to 20 yards and he was nailing it.

Now I told him he had to take the Hunter Education course. He proudly showed me his card. Dad was always going to take but he never did” “One more thing before you start hunting. I said, “You need to learn some woodcraft. That means you and I am going to spend a lot of time just walking and sitting in the woods.” And we did. Many days I carried my bow and he just went along. We talked of things like the sounds squirrels make and how deer move and ethical shots. He got good at blood trailing. One afternoon, sitting on a sunny log, a doe walked by at 25 yards. I never raised the bow.

“Why didn’t you shoot her?” he asked “Don’t need the meat and how could you learn about deer habits if I shot her? Besides, I might have missed and looked like a fool.” He laughed at that, and I told him we all miss sometimes. All of us.

He was a quick learner so one afternoon I put him in a big ladder stand I had. When I came back at dusk, he was shaking. “I think I missed a big doe. She was only 20 yards and broadside but couldn’t hold the bow steady” I laughed and told about a few my misses, especially the bull elk at 8 yards. Then we found his arrow-clean miss. I said, “It is better to miss than wound.”

Two days later, it was a cold clear morning and I put him in another stand and told him to watch a fence crossing. I came back by about 10 and he was on the ground looking at something. “I think this is blood…I’m sure it is.” And it was. I had him show me exactly where the deer was standing when he shot. No sign of an arrow.

We started the trail and it was a good one. Fifty yards along, we found the arrow. It was covered in blood. I looked ahead and could see the deer but I didn’t say anything, I let him keep working the trail until he came up on him-a small six-point, shot perfectly. I smeared some blood on his face and explained the ritual.

Finally, one day he asked what he owed for the bow and arrows. I told him, “Come summer, you mow my yard four times and we’ll call it even.” I thought he was going to cry. He did hug me and that sort embarrassed me.

I do not know how many deer that kid has killed by now. I know he hunts every time he comes home from college and always brings me some meat. He has a new bow and a few weeks back he brought the old Hoyt over and asked if I would hang it on my wall.

“No.” I said, that bow is for your son or maybe daughter. You keep it and pass on what you learned from me.”

“I don’t recon I’ll ever stop learning from you…ever.

Like to broke my heart.
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Cutline:#1 One afternoon, sitting on a sunny log, a doe walked by at 25 yards. I never raised my bow.


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Constipation has ruined many a good day. Not as many as stupidity, though.