The love of the chase still thrills us and all the misty past
echoes with the hunter's call.
In the joy of hunting is intimately woven the love of the great
outdoors. The beauty of woods, valleys, mountains, and skies feeds the
soul of the sportsman where the quest of game only whets his appetite.
After all, it is not the killing that brings satisfaction, it is the
contest of skill and cunning. The true hunter counts his achievement in
proportion to the effort involved and the fairness of the sport.
With the rapid development of firearms, hunting tends to lose its
sporting quality. The killing of game is becoming too easy; there is
little triumph and less glory than in the days of yore. Game
preservation demands a limitation of armament. We should do well to
abandon the more powerful and accurate implements of destruction, and
revert to the bow.
Here we have a weapon of beauty and romance. He who shoots with a bow,
puts his life's energy into it. The force behind the flying shaft must
be placed there by the archer. At the moment of greatest strain he must
draw every sinew to the utmost; his hand must be steady; his nerves
under absolute control; his eye keen and clear.
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