The Fourth Wall
page 3
Tuition
from page 1
large numbers of civic groups and
businesses that award
scholarships. These include such
groups as Kiwanis, Rotary,
Knights of Columbus, service
organizations, churches, the
Democratic Party, and the
Republican Party. The key to
finding scholarships is
persistence. “Beat the bushes for
other loans and scholarships,” Mr.
Gill said. “If you get enough of
them it adds up.” Some
scholarships may not even be
awarded because there are no
qualified applicants. “Many times
people don’t know - about
people do enough digging they
could find other scholarships.” Mr.
Gill advocates that students call
local organizations and businesses
and inquire whether they award
scholarships, and if so, what the
qualifications are for the
scholarships. “The worst thing that
can happen to you is they say no.”
Some students feel that the
financial awards may not be
sufficient. Winnie Kastroll is a
Criminal Justice major, and a
sophomore at Penn State Mont
Alto. “I think they should offer a
few more scholarships, especially
for freshmen who don’t have the
GPA,” she said. However, Kastroll
feels that her tuition situation is
manageable, at least for the time
being. “I feel like right now it’s not
really hitting me. Come a few
years, it’s going to hit. It will be
stressful.”
By Tony Arnold
Staff’ Writer
Saturday, October 21, 2006
ushered in a cool and dry autumn
day with gentle but chilly winds, a
fine day for deer hunting. That
morning I was at the center of a
single circle drive which my father
executed with the indwelt skill of
a seasoned deer hunter, but saw
only one deer, which I spotted on
the steep walk to my mountaintop
post. The results were not entirely
surprising as small game hunters
and weekend deer hunters had
diffused into the woods for their
own endeavors, introducing the
necessary elements for a thorough
shake-up of the local deer
population. I decided to still-hunt
my way back out of the woods, my
footfall largely concealed by the
moist leaf litter. I spotted nary a
deer and was thoroughly
distraught with the lack of action.
Another drive in a different area
would certainly be called for.
After an abbreviated lunch I
became the center of yet another
drive in which my father and
cousin, Nick, would push a hillside
laden with thorns and other jungle-
like flora, with me standing at
attention at the end of this mess
watching two possible exit points
which deer often used to escape the
entanglement. This drive produced
at least one deer far more often
than not so I waited in quiet
anticipation as the two men drove.
Not a single deer emerged,
however, and the only fruition I got
from the drive was the survival of
my companions despite the
Vietnam-like patch of God-
forsaken real estate they had just
pushed.
I arrived home fully expecting to
get ready for an afternoon archery
hunt at a prime property of which I
had exclusive bow-hunting rights.
When arriving, however, I found
out that my young cousin, Jamie,
who had but a single deer to his
credit, would be going out with a
rifle that afternoon as this Saturday
muzzleloader doe season but also
that of the youth rifle doe season.
He had missed a doe earlier that
day and despite a look of
toughness acquired in spite of
thorough razzing that only a new
hunter receives, I could sense his
disappointment and loss of self-
confidence. After a moment’s
contemplation, I thought of the fact
that my own odds of shooting deer
that day were better with a
muzzleloader and with some
hesitancy I decided te cancel my
evening archery hunt. “Next
weeks the pre-rut, anyway,” I said
and go for the doe today.” I phoned
up to the owners of my bow-
hunting property and informed
them I would not be coming up,
fully believing I had made a
Herculean mistake.
An interesting new area would
The patch of land was thoroughly
diverse; the topography was that of
sloping mountainside hardwood
stands cut deeply by forbiddingly
steep ravines and pocked
intermittently by high-growing
thorn patches and small hemlock
stands. Pasture fields also dotted
the landscape and a system of
logging roads provided a navigable
thoroughfare.
The first drive was simple. 1
would place Jamie on the corner
of a large grass field which
paralleled the main logging road.
Then Nick and my father would
push up through a large section of
thick timber to the field where Jamie
watched and waited. 1 would sit
off the corner of the field where
Jamie stood, about 50 yards into
the woodz, in case deer decided to
hop the corner.
The men pushed, but to no
avail, and another plan was
formulated. Jamie and I would post
ourselves where another logging
road curved twice consecutively;
a meadow lay on one side of the
double curve and a large patch of
forest on the other. I would stand
at the first bend, Jamie at the
second. We would each be able to
see our own sections of the
logging road and would settle in
far enough that the piece of road
that lay between could be covered
without either of us standing in the
other’s line of fire. Nick and Dad
would push the forest toward the
meadow. Unfortunately, despite
the excitement and anticipation,
this strategy also proved
unsuccessful.
It was obvious that another
drive would be necessary; this time
I searched my own play book. The
bend where Jamie stood for that
second drive was at a transition
area where the meadow ended and
more cover began. The cover at
this transition was a hellish
monstrosity of thick thorns and
tangles that was easily nastier than
the patch that Nick and dad had
Initiation
pushed earlier in the day. At certain
spots one could only navigate the
mess on hands and knees. Though
this was easily the most monstrous
piece of cover that any of us had
ever seen on our hunting property
we also knew it was the best deer
cover around. It also happened to
be the only bottleneck of thick
cover between the logging road
and another open area further
along the mountainside. In short,
I informed the two drivers that I
would call them on my radio when
Jamie and I were posted. I had an
ideal spot for both of us to sit on
the other side of the thorns, where
open hardwoods met an open field.
Jamie would face the wooded side,
where | expected the deer to exit
the thorns and I would face the
field should they decide to exit
lower. We walked the logging road
around the thorns to our
designated posts. As we walked
into the field, tensions were high
and we were pumped for what I
knew would be a productive drive.
We had scarcely entered the field,
however, before both of us—
almost simultaneously—saw a
large doe bedded at the edge of
the field right next to the thorns.
In the high grass all we could see
yards separating us from her this
was a vital target. I scarcely had
time to think when Jamie told me to
shoot. I knew he was still unsure
about himself after his miss but I
heeded his request as I did not
know how much time would elapse
before the deer spotted us and blew
out of town. [I raised my
Thompson/Center, centered the
crosshairs on the deer’s head,
which surprisingly was not
expressing alarm, and squeezed the
trigger. Click! A small flurry of
smoke emanated from my primer
but the gun did not go off.
“Damn,” I thought to myself, “a
misfire!” I did not take long to react
to this misfortune as I could see
through the scope that the deer
was now looking straight at us.
“Put the crosshairs dead on her
head and fire!” I said to Jamie in a
loud whisper. He quickly drew up
and fired as requested; after the
loud boom of the .30-06 the doe’s
head dipped below the grass.
and ran into the thorns, but I
quickly looked back down and saw
the thrashing of Jamie’s doe. Yet
another doe sprung up from the
grass but she lingered. I fumbled
around for another primer but when
I was locked and loaded again the
deer was gone.
I looked over at Jamie, who was
standing in obvious amazement,
and held out my hand'to him. He
slapped my hand and said
“thanks,” still not registering what
had just happened. 1 realized at
that moment that, though I had not
gotten a deer myself, I was sole
witness to a crucial stage of a new
hunter’s initiation and that I, given
the chance, would probably trade
ten bow hunts fo do it all over
again.