While on the farm in Licking, I fashioned a make-shift bow. It was pretty puny. I needed some arrows, so I made some. I found several small straight branches, cut them off some tree (we had a sizable wooded area right near the house), de-barked them, and whittled a point on the end.This might have been the summer that I was cutting something with the knife blade toward me instead of away from me. I still have the scar near the knuckle on my left index finger where I got sewed up.
My arrows were not very straight, and my aim was poor, so I didn’t hit much. I shot at a chicken with no prospect of hitting it, but did. I had to pluck the chicken for our dinner that night.
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