The logical outcome of Roving is Hunting. During the Spring and Summer months all your roving is a preparation for hunting.
Hunting rabbits becomes a more than fascinating sport. A cottontail goes bounding away. Cautiously you are after him, and finally locate the game hunched against the roots of a maple. To get a clear shot is important. Any little twig will deflect your arrow. You back away and work to one side. By crouching a little you get your shot—a good twenty yards and everything in his favor. Your loose is faulty and you miss, but does bunny scamper off into the next county? He does not—he very suspiciously sniffs at the thing that plunked down two inches from his nose. That gives you another shot. This time you are careful. You draw until you feel the small broadhead touch the knuckle of your bow hand; the shaft leaps from the bow, and you know the second you loosed that you have him.
A fat grey squirrel in a hickory tree—he's smart and wary, and keeps a limb between you. You stand still. You don't move for what seems hours and his curiosity gets the better of him. He peeks over the limb and you have a fair shot at his head. A blunt shaft this time, so you won't have to climb for an arrow sticking in a limb. You don't get him, but the thrill of the fine shot you made is there. Better luck next time.