Backwoods: The Most Primitive Weapon

A basic throwing stick is, quite simply, a sturdy hunk of branch. The optimum size and shape will vary somewhat, depending upon personal preference, but a stick about two and half feet long and approximately half as thick as your wrist. Of course, some primitive peoples have turned the making of throwing sticks into an art form (consider the hunting boomerang or Australian Kylie, which is carved to an aerodynamic profile that actually allows it to fly farther than an unshaped stick of similar size and weight could be thrown). But for our purposes, we'll be discussing the handling of a weapon that requires nothing more, perhaps, than being broken to a comfortable length before it's put to use.

Such a basic club can be thrown either overhand (when, for instance, you're trying to knock a squirrel from the side of a tree) or sidearm (when you're in an open area, where brush won't interfere with the stick's flight). In using the first method, point your left foot at the target (if you're right-handed southpaws can simply reverse these directions). Then, holding the smaller end of the stick loosely in your right hand, bring the weapon back over your shoulder and hurl it, with good end-over-end spin, straight at the mark. At the moment of release, your shoulders should face the game squarely.

The sidearm throw is similar to the motion used in stroking a tennis ball with the racket. Point the left toe at the animal, bring the stick to a cocked position at your side, and throw it . . . squaring your shoulders and snapping the club—as if you were cracking a whip—to give it spin.

Always be sure to carry your throwing stick when away from camp for any reason. Not only is there a chance that a small bird or animal will suddenly appear within range, but there's also the possibility that you'll encounter other food sources (say, nuts or fruit) that can be knocked down with the club.

I don't have the space to go into any detail about stalking techniques here. In general, you should avoid any abrupt movements . . . walk slowly, feeling the ground (or, perhaps, a brittle twig?) beneath each foot before putting your weight upon it . . . and try to time your movements to coincide with the feeding patterns you observe in your quarry (most animals will alternate regular periods of feeding with pauses to survey their surroundings for danger). Remember, though, that this is a very rudimentary outline, and that—as always—the time to practice this particular survival skill is before you need it.