1974                It Was Good Venison

In one of the recent magazines that I have read, there was quite an article on archery hunting. Over the years I have met a number of men who like to hunt with a bow and arrow, and it is surprising just how much game is killed in this way. With game as scarce as it is now, the chances of killing a deer or moose in the way the natives did years ago is rather slim, but the dedicated bow hunter keeps on trying. There are areas where deer are plentiful. And I understand there is a short season for archers previous to the season when rifles and guns may be used. This is not only in the country to the south. I mean about bow hunting. Years ago a hunt camp at Restoule hunted with bows the first week, also the second week if luck was good, and only reverted to rifles if deer were needed. I watched one of the hunters once at the archery range at the Sportsman’s Show, and I have seen deer missed at closer distances than he was hitting a much smaller target.

But this latest article stirred up a bit of memory, going back to the first world war. That summer was the only time I helped get a deer with an arrow, this is in the summer of 1918.

We were camped on one of the larger lakes, quite a large party on a two-week fishing and camping trip. We had plenty of time, and had decided to stay on this lake a few days. Then another party arrived, and camped on a point not far away. Each party had three guides. In the other party there was a boy of my own age, also a guide, and we were very good friends, as were the other guides. Fishing was good, and we were having nice weather. One afternoon late my friend paddled over and asked me if I would like to earn five dollars. One of the men in his party had offered him ten dollars if he would get a deer. Deer were very plentiful then. He told me one of the party had an automatic pistol which we could use. All I had to do was paddle the canoe and hold a flashlight. So that night we slipped away, and paddled a short distance to a marsh. There were several deer we got close to, but all too large for our purpose. Then we saw one that looked alright, and I feathered the canoe quite close. My friend was not used to such a firearm, and when he pulled the trigger it kicked down, even to putting a hole in the front of the canoe, which accident the man who rented the canoe never did get the facts. But that ended the hunt, and we were not allowed to use the pistol again. But we wanted that ten dollars. Also we wanted to prove to the older guides we could get a deer.

Next day we visited an old logging camp, and found a couple of small files, which we heated to draw the temper. Then we found a grindstone, and sharpened them like two-edged daggers all this under my friend’s direction. Then a piece of good hardwood for a bow, and split out some straight cedar for arrows. No trouble picking up large feathers.

I did very little of the work as my friend, an Algonquin from Golden Lake, seemed to know just what to do. But we came up with two well-balanced arrows, but due to scarcity of arrows he could not do much practising.

But that night we tried again. Again, of course, I was the paddler, and we passed up several deer, but finally we could see that one was a small spike buck. So I tried to keep the light in his eyes and paddle at the same time while in the bow my pal had his weapon shafted and ready. The deer stood a bit sideways watching the light approach, and we got within fifteen feet of the deer. Then I saw the arm draw the arrow back, and since it was so close we could see the arrow had hit almost dead centre. The animal ran a short distance, the water about a foot deep, and then collapsed.

It took only a few minutes to remove the entrails, working from the canoe, and since we did not want to get a canoe bloody we towed it the mile back to camp. Some of the party were a bit excited, couple of the older guides gave us a bit of a talking to for killing a deer, both out of season and in the Park, but when the deer was cut up (such steaks and roasts) I noticed they ate as much as anyone. One party had nine people, all adults, the other eight, also adults, so a small deer didn’t last long. And it was a very agreeable change from trout, which we had been eating twice a day for over a week. To top it off, we each received ten dollars, which at that time was quite a bonus.

That was my first and only experience with bow hunting and of course the work on the bow and planning the hunt was all done by my friend.

I guide with him a lot after that, and once I saw him get close enough to a big buck to get a picture by simply putting a couple of small leafy trees in the bow of the canoe. Then giving instructions to the lady with the camera to be perfectly quiet until he turned the canoe a bit he paddled half a mile on an open lake with the deer watching all the time. But he got close enough for a good picture.

Isn’t it odd how some of the things that had been forgotten keep coming to memory as the years go by?