Recently I've been hunting locally. I love hunting locally as it's so convenient and you've got all your hunting gear and materials on hand. The closest WMA (Wildlife Managment Area) to where I live had a two week small game season that was pretty much unregulated as there was no one ever at the check station. Basically you came and went as you pleased. Unfortunately I was unsuccessful at harvesting anything but I got really close and I learned a lot.
Basically during small game season you can shoot anything except for deer and turkeys. I was going to shoot anything that would be worth cleaning and eating. For me that means anything the size of a squirrel or larger. I really wanted to get a pig as they are invasive but anything to eat would be fine. Now I was of course hunting with a primitive bow and arrow that I had made with my own two hands.
It was so satisfying just being in the woods with my own primitive bow that I had made, sneaking around playing the wind and being quiet. I would find a hidden spot near a well used game trail with the wind blowing from where I expected my quarry to come from. After that I would let my instinct kick in. I'd either wait or move on toward an area that might be better. The level of focus and alertness I was able to achieve was something that I had never experienced before. The desire for success overcame discomfort or boredom. Paying so close attention to the slightest noise in the leaf litter and faintest wisp of a half-hearted breeze across my face became the most important thing in life for those few hours spent hunting. A change in wind direction could spook the only prey in the area and cause me to go hungry for another day. These natural factors were everything!
By the end of the season I got close to a pig, a few deer, some turkeys, and several squirrels. Squirrels ended up being the only thing I shot at as they didn't seem too wise about me being a predator. The first squirrel I shot at was in a stand of young pine trees as it made its way to an oak tree. I was tracking it with my arrow waiting for it to pause so I could take a shot. It paused and my vision tunneled on it and I released my arrow. The arrow flew an inch high and sailed off into oblivion. That's why I don't knap arrowheads for small game arrows. The second squirrel climbed down an oak tree that was about 20 feet or so from me and sat chewing on something. I slipped my broadhead arrow back into my quiver and slowly slid out my small game arrow. In slow motion I nocked my arrow and brought my bow up with full confidence. There were a few smilax vines in the way but I took the shot anyway and I thought I nailed the squirrel but it limped up the tree a little ways then ran across a branch and made a leap to the next tree as if nothing had happened. I was glad it ran off okay.
I think it's safe to say that I'm hooked on primitive bow hunting and I can't wait to make my first successful kill as that is the next step in recreating my ancestors' means of survival.
