An appeal to Jack McCallum of Ford's recreation department 

 brought willing volunteers. Among them was Carl Strang, who 

 holds state and national records in archery. Another was Johnny 

 Milligan, the Tennessean who can literally hit a tossed dime at 

 20 feet with his slingshot. The magazine obtained precision 

 boomerangs from Colonel John Gerrish of Portland, Oregon, 

 and volunteers spent ten days practicing with them. Another 

 group fashioned tapsticks out of 2-foot pieces of hoe handle with 

 heavy railroad nuts screwed to one end. The experimenters, an 

 even dozen, were all skilled. 



Local wildlife hardly suspected the lively exercise in store for 

 them that chilly fall Friday when the hunters arrived at Grouse 

 Farms. For fifteen years Gerald Brian had managed the 1600 

 acres of the estate near Detroit as a game preserve. There were 

 patches of multiflora rose for shelter when hawks circled, clumps 

 of lespedeza for bird feed, pine plantings for cover, tall grasses 

 and marsh hummocks along the mile of creek for nesting, and a 

 broad lake for migratory waterfowl. 



Their first hint that turmoil was to invade these happy sur- 

 roundings occurred on a field south of the lake. Here the hunters 

 and observers formed a V and began driving northward through 

 low pines toward a deep ravine. 



Shortly thereafter, one cottontail, driven from cover by the 

 sound of booted feet, felt the breeze of a tapstick as it whirled 

 past his white rear. He had to leap sideways to avoid another 

 tapstick bouncing in front of his nose. 



At the ravine the action grew hot. Rabbits began popping in 

 and out like commuters at a subway entrance. Carl Strang drew 

 back his bow, then relaxed when he saw a man in the line of 

 fire. Johnny Milligan and Whitt Coleman let fly with their sling- 

 shots, and Johnny's shot turned the rabbit over. 



A bunny came over the crest of the ravine into the open and 

 Fred Cook let loose an arrow that went squarely between his 

 legs, grazing his belly and adding height to his leaps. Then the 

 fun was over, the landscape quiet except for the breathing of the 

 hunters. 



Johnny Milligan was rueful over hitting the rabbit in the 



220 



