My bother took a bit of stick and hammed a couple of inches of copper pipe over the end and flattened it. Then he cut the pipe off to a point.
I, "Got in the way !", when he fired it from his bow
I can still hear him whining, "She's going to tell!", as I ran home with that arrow sticking out and bobbing from my ribs.
I still have a scar under my breast.
Our Mum said, "Robert! you're a pill !", pulled the arrow out (was only in about half an inch) and stuck a plaster on me.
1960's childhood was not for fearties.