Hunting with Ugly Points

by Billy Berger

When I first began flintknapping many years ago, I marveled at the skill of those craftsmen, both ancient and modern, who were able to create beautifully thin and perfectly shaped points out of stone. Ripple flake scars, perfect cross sections, and deep, narrow notches were the thing of this budding flintknapper’s dreams.

After many years of practice, I was able to finally make the beautifully crafted points I had lusted after for so many years. Of course once the bow and arrow making was also mastered, I began to lash these points onto my arrows and hunt with them. I felt that if I was going to use my handmade gear to kill an animal, then only the best points deserved to be used.

But a funny thing began happening. I was very hesitant to shoot my arrow unless a perfect shot presented itself. And as most hunters know, perfect shots in real hunting scenarios are very, very rare. Many times I would refuse to shoot because I didn’t want to lose or break the arrow or its carefully-crafted point. And whenever I did draw back on an animal, I wouldn’t focus on placing my shot. Instead, my focus shifted to whether or not I would miss my target and break the point. This perfect piece of craftsmanship that tipped my arrow was now the object of my greatest concern. Was I really about to send this work of art to its destruction?

had become a very timid bow hunter. Ultimately I would release my arrow, but without fail I would miss my target and that beautiful point would hit a tree or worse yet, a rock. And my worst nightmare came true: that beautiful point, a representation of an hour or more of painstaking work, would be pulverized, its existence erased forever.

After several such episodes, I became disgusted with my lack of success. I decided to change my tactics and began using points that were less than perfect. In fact, some of them were downright ugly. Points that were thick, asymmetrical, had broken ears, step fractures, or less than perfect flake scars were now lashed onto my hunting arrows. It was a bit embarrassing actually, because these were the points that I was taking out into the woods and these were also the points I would show people when they asked to see my hunting gear. "I am so much better than this," I would think to myself. However, even though these points were ugly, I still gave them meticulously serrated edges that were very sharp.

Before, I was timid and protected the artsy stone points from being shot. But the first time I entered the woods with ugly points on my arrows, I realized something had changed. My mindset was different. Now I entered the woods with an aggressive eye, willing to launch my arrows at the first target of opportunity. I didn’t care about the ugly points—in fact, I hated them. For the first time I was actually looking for any opportunity to release my arrows because I wanted to destroy the hideous stone points that were attached to them. I didn’t care if I slammed them into rocks or buried them in trees or lost them during the rigors of hunting. I hoped I did. Good riddance, I thought!

With this more aggressive outlook, my hunting success skyrocketed. The worry I had for the beautiful stone points I used to hunt with evaporated because I was no longer using my most prized pieces in the pursuit of game. I couldn’t care less about the expedient and sometimes crude points that now tipped my arrows. And with this, I became more concerned about placing my shot, resulting in more kills to my credit. If I missed my target and destroyed the point, then another ugly point ended up on the arrow anyway.

I am not the first to adopt this approach. I have seen this same trend in prehistoric points as well. Many of the knives, spear points, and arrow points that were made for daily use tend to display rather crude workmanship. Of course this isn’t always the case, as I have also seen many beautifully crafted stone points. But because they were not necessary for survival, less time was devoted to their manufacture. There were obviously some very skilled flintknappers in prehistoric times, as evidenced by the ceremonial points and grave offerings discovered over the years. But native people obviously knew that beauty and symmetry were not required for a stone point to be effective for hunting. Instead, I believe more time would have been devoted to the arrow onto which the point was attached. The quality of the arrow and its flight are by far the most important aspects with which a primitive bow hunter should be concerned.

Because I make stone points mainly for hunting, my flintknapping skill has regressed somewhat over the years. As far as creating artwork, I now approach it with a "been there, done that" attitude. For my hunting points, I focus less on symmetry and more on creating the sharpest possible edges. Oh sure, I can still chip beautiful stone points out of exotic stone with ripple flake scars and perfect symmetry. But I rarely make them nowadays. They only require more time to make, and the time invested does not equate to greater effectiveness when used for hunting.

Numerous animals have fallen to my ugly, expediently-made stone points. In fact, I’ve never had an animal escape when the arrow was put in the right place. However, I want to emphasize that even though these points may be ugly, I still devote tremendous attention to giving them the sharpest possible edges. I also protect them at all times by wrapping the points with toilet paper unless I am hunting. Regardless of how ugly a point is, I am very careful about preserving its sharpness.

I now have hundreds of expediently made points just waiting to be hafted on to arrows. I jokingly say they are on "death row". Using these death row points has helped increase my success when it comes to placing my shot on a wary game animal. And when I do make a really pretty point, it now spends its life of beauty in my display case instead of on my arrows.