My son John (laxbowman) just finished fletching some arrows yesterday and wanted to try them out hunting. Since a flock of starlings in the yard made themselves available, he told me to watch him put on a stalk. I peered from my office window as he snuck around the house and found one of the birds with it's head buried in the grass.
His new flourescent fletching traced across the yard and the arrow stuck in the ground just over and behind the bird's body. I walked out to console him and act as guide for the rest of the hunt. We moved to the back yard as I had seen many of the critters there on previous scouting trips. As I hoped, several birds were feeding (not baited and no food plots - just naturally occuring food sources).
We carefully glassed (okay, no binocs) over the vast open space to pick out the best trophy. Just like the first bird, this one escaped with feathers unruffled (as did 2 more!).
Disappointment began to set-in for the lad. He had just blown 4 chances to nail one of the little buggers. Knowing that my guiding reputation was on the line, I filled him with encouragement and told him lies about having actually missed game myself.
This seemed to get his mind off the poor shots and let the birds settle a little, then move back in.
We saw movement along the edge of some brush and set-up for the next shot. There was too much open ground to get any closer, so we discussed the shot from our current position. Our view was partially blocked, but John felt a renewed sense of marksmanship flow through his predatory veins.
Just as he loosed his arrow, we saw one last twitch of the animal's tail before it was promptly pinned to the ground. A hit!
After carefully nocking another arrow in case a finishing shot was required, we eased down the slight grade to claim his prize. No trailing was needed, the long hunt was over.
Much to our surprise, however, it was not a starling skewered to the arrow, but this:
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Maybe we both need to practice positive target identification.