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THE BLACK LOCUST BOW AND THE WILLOW ARROWS

This story
begins in March 1993, when I cut down a 25 to 30 year old locust. I cut and
split the locust into post, not knowing one day that a part of the tree would be
held in my hands in the form of a bow. It's 12 years later March of 2005. I have
been building primitive weapons for about 6 years now. As I am walking across my
dads property, I come across the post that I had cut 12 years ago. I wonder to
myself, what kind of bow would the hardened and slitely weathered worn wood
make. After thinking for a few minutes, I decide to give it a try and
make a bow. I go back to the house and get the 4-wheeler, so I can haul the post
out of the woods. I split the post down into four pieces and hang
them up in the building to season for about another 2 1/2 months.
Then I take one of the stavs and begin the shaping out of the
bow.
First I cut down thru 7 years of growth and follow the 7th year in growth ring,
the full length of the stav. This will be the back of the bow. After some hours
have past, the bow has taken form. When I am building a primitive weapon, I
always think back and wonder about my ancestors. I think about the
primitive tools they had to use to build bow, crossbows, arrows, catapolts,
and other weapons. I think about the hard ships they endured and about how the
flight of an arrow affected their lively hood. Whether to kill or bekilled or to
starve or survive. I don't think I will ever truly know what it was like for
them and I dont' think I would want to suffer thru the hard ships they endured.
And when I am done with a day of primitive hunting or weapons making, I can go
back to my life of luxury in comparison with their's.
When I
go into the woods to hunt. one of the reasons is to help create a balance in
nature to control the game animals to insure a healthy herd of deer or turkey
for the next generation. So much different from my ancestors which was solely
about survival. A week has past since I finished the black locus bow, and I am
getting ready to start on my arrows. Actually it began about a month and a 1/2
ago when I went to a pond that had willow growing all around it. I cut 14 raw
arrow shafts 30" long, and between 3/8" and 1/2" thick. I got the straightest
ones I could find and took them home and peeled the bark off of them. Then I
bundled them up and wrapped them up with bungy straps and hung them up to dry.
Now 1 1/2 months later. I am ready to start working down the shafts. I grab a
piece of sand paper, then I stop. I think to myself how would the Black Foot
have worked an arrow. I sat down to ponder for a while. then it hits me. I go to
the edge of a field where there is a pile of sand rock. I get one of the bigger
rocks, and take it home. I chip out a place in the side of the rock about
3/8" deep and 3/8" wide. I rub the raw shaft in the knotch until the shafts
are close to the 3/8", the full length of the arrow. The old sand rock
worked perfectly.

I use a small
fire to heat the shafts. Then i bend them until they are fairly straight. After
the shafts are straight, I fletch them using turkey feathers. I use
the eastern 2 fletch which is
a method the eastern native american indians used. They used sinew to secure the
fletching to the arrows. For my arrow heads I would like to use a flint
head, but will probably go with steel arrowheads, ones that I cut out of a
metal 55 gallon drum. I owe it out of respect for the animals that I
hunt to make a quick clean kill.

I will most likely hunt the first month of archery season this year with the
primitive equipment that I have built in this story. The equipment for me is
limited to about 15 yards, and I can use the foliage for my consealment. I have
to share it with other archery equipment I own like my german hunting style
crossbow, with an osage bow, which is a little unconventional for a german
crossbow, but I recon that's what you get from an American with so many
different ancestors and heritages. The weapons I build are a combination of
german, english, irish, and blackfoot, but they are all american made.
This is where I come from and this is who I am. I was fortunate to know all four
of my grandparents. They are all gone now, but they left me with a lot of
memorys and a scense of where I come from. That's alot. Now it's my
turn to teach my kids and pass something on. This story is dedicated to
Cecil and Clara
Adkins
George and Netharay Ball
It's
important to never forget.
written by Scott
Adkins
June, 2005
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crossbowhunters.com. All rights reserved.2007
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