566 
FOREST AND STREAM 
Nov. 2, 1912 
Target and Hunting Archery 
By H. B. RICHARDSON 
Editor's Note.— Henry B. Richardson, of Boston, has the distinction of being the only American who has 
competed in the English championship tournaments and defeated the English archers. In 1908, after shooting 
in the Olympic games at London, he entered the English tournaments and won all the events. In 1910 Richardson 
won the American York championship with a score of 231 hits and 1111 points. This score is second to that made 
in 1857 by Horace A. Ford, of England. Ford was the father of modern archery, and the method of aiming now 
in use was introduced by him. Ford is acknowledged to have been the best archer the world has seen. 
T ARGET archery differs from hunting arch¬ 
ery as much as any two sports with the 
same implements can differ, as much as 
cricket differs from baseball. Target archery 
demands uniform excellence under constant 
and favorable conditions, whereas hunting de¬ 
mands occasional brilliance under varying and 
trying ones. Since in the former the ranges 
are known and fixed, it is possible to shoot 
the long ranges accurately. The target is at 
the same level as the archer. The ground is 
level and there are no obstacles. Under such 
conditions every arrow must be carefully shot, 
and uniform excellence is indispensable. There 
must be some systematic means of controlling 
the line, length of pull, and the location of 
each arrow shot. To regulate the line or di¬ 
rection of the arrow the archer must, when 
aiming, keep it in the same vertical plane as 
the eye. He can then see directly any devia¬ 
tion—to the right or left of the target. To 
regulate the length of pull, he must draw to 
some definite point every time, the best way 
being to touch with the second finger of the 
drawing hand a point under the jaw such that 
the bow-string will cross the corner of the 
mouth. For controlling the elevation the only 
reliable system so far discovered is the ‘'point 
of aim.” This means that the left arm is 
raised until the head of the arrow at full draw 
covers some point, such as a branch or a bunch 
of grass, above or below the target, but in line 
with it This point has been found by experi¬ 
ment to produce the right elevation. There are 
many other details to attend to—standing 
straight, keeping the head up, not letting the 
left arm flinch, loosing without disturbing the 
line, etc., but they are. after all, details. The 
principles of line, length of pull, and elevation 
must be followed by everyone who aspires to 
success. 
The tackle used in target archery is in 
keeping with the kind of shooting. The bow 
is comparatively light, so that it is well within 
the archer’s control. The arrows are light for 
the long ranges. They must be extremely 
carefully made, and as carefully watched to see 
that they fly alike. Those that do not conform 
to type should be discarded. 
Contrast hunting archery. The range is 
unknown and has to be estimated each time. 
Since the limit of accurate estimate of distance 
is about sixty yards, all shooting beyond that 
distance is chiefly guess work. The ground is 
likely to be anything but level. The target is 
small, of varying size, and may be up a tree 
or down a ravine. Obstacles are numerous 
and perplexing. Only the perfect shots count. 
The man who makes one perfect shot and five 
bad ones is a better archer than one who makes 
six merely good ones. No particular principle 
of shooting needs to be followed, although 
pulling to the ear has been found the best. The 
shooting should be as instinctive and natural 
as possible. Concentration on the mark and 
practice are the chief means of improvement. 
It is in hunting that the “born” archer is in 
clover. In target archery, he may get “hipped” 
on his particular style of shooting, with the re- 
MRS. WITWER-TAYLOR. SIX GOLDS AT THIRTY YARDS. 
suit that he passes imperceptibly from a “prom¬ 
ising young archer” to an “old duffer” if, in¬ 
deed, he does not get discouraged in the pro¬ 
cess. In hunting lie has no such handicap. 
The tackle is much heavier and stronger 
than that used in target shooting. The bow 
can be ten pounds heavier, since it is shot in¬ 
termittently. The arrows are about twice as 
big around and three times as heavy as target 
arrows. They are made of second-growth 
hickory, which is almost as hard and tough as 
iron. Blunt-heads, used for small birds and 
squirrels, are made of a mixture of lead and 
babbit metal hard enough to resist crushing, 
yet soft enough to absorb some of the shock. 
Sharp heads, for grouse, rabbits, and such are 
made of unhardened tool steel, hard enough to 
penetrate, yet soft enough to absorb some of 
the shock of hitting rocks. The head, which 
is in the shape of a trowel, is inserted in the 
end of the arrow, wired on. and fastened to 
the wire with solder. The feathers, about three 
inches in length, are glued on slightly spirally. 
They guide the arrow most accurately if left 
untrimmed, but slow it down. 
An incident from a hunting trip in which 
I participated last summer will illustrate the 
difficulties of hunting archery. The party con¬ 
sisted of Will Thompson, of Seattle; Z. E. Jack- 
son and J. M. Challiss, of Atchison, Kan., and 
myself, of Boston. We had left Vancouver in 
a motor boat, and had anchored off an island 
at the mouth of the Jarvis Inlet, one of the 
long arms of the sea that pierce far into the 
rugged coast of British Colunibia. We pad- 
died our two canoes ashore, carried them 
across a small neck of land on an old logging 
chute, and launched them in a beautiful little 
lake. Above the edge of the water rose high, 
steep, wooded banks, and below the bottom 
shelved off abruptly, disappearing in clear 
depths so far down as to make you dizzy to 
look. From coves on all sides came the eerie 
dismal chant of the loon. From the middle of 
the lake we could see a rugged peak of the 
Rockies looming up jagged and white in the 
distance. The place looked like game and felt 
like it. We strung our bows and paddled 
stealthily along the shore, but for Challiss and 
I, who were together, there was no luck. We 
separated from the others, and, having hunted 
till dusk, went home to the boat without even 
having drawn a bow-string. Long after dark 
the other two came aboard very tired and 
hungry, and proceeded to eat supper. They 
asked us what luck we had had, and denied 
having any better themselves, yet there was 
something mysterious about their manner. 
Finally, Jackson, having filled and lit his four- 
bore “Missouri meerschaum, commonly known 
as a corncob,” said to me, “Look in our canoe, 
and see if you can’t find something.” I found 
a gunny sack, with something in it that was all 
I could lift. Taking the bag by the corners, I 
opened it. and out tumbled a large wildcat. When 
the surprise of this disclosure abated, Jackson 
consented to tell us how it had happened. It 
seems that as he was sitting in the bow of the 
canoe ready to shoot, he saw something mov¬ 
ing in the bushes uphill about sixty yards off. 
He signaled to stop, but by the time they had 
done so and had worked back to the original 
place the thing had disappeared. Thompson 
was discouraged, and spoke out, “Oh, he’s gone 
now,” much to the disgust of Jackson, who at 
that instant spotted the animal again. He shot 
very deliberately and as he released could see 
the arrow traveling straight toward the one 
visible spot of the animal. The arrow disap¬ 
peared in the bushes. There was a scrambling 
and a crackling of twigs, then a little later an¬ 
other crackling, and then silence. “You’ve 
got him,” said Thompson. They went ashore 
and found a large wildcat, dead. The arrow 
had gone through both shoulders about an 
inch from the heart. 
This was a remarkable shot, quite different 
from any target shooting. Jackson was sitting 
in an unsteady canoe, shooting uphill, at an un¬ 
known range, and at a mark just barely visible. 
He had waited in suspense for some time. 
Moreover, he was using a target bow, some five 
