CHAPTER VIII. THE THREE FRIENDS.

u,toshootwithadroppingshaftforthoughabowmanmayattimesbecalledupontoshootstraightandfast,yetitismoreoftenthathehastodowithatown-guardbehindawall,oranarbalestierwithhismantletraisedwhenyoucannothopetodohimscatheunlessyourshaftfallstraightuponhimfromtheclouds.Ihavenotdrawnstringfortwoweeks,butImaybeabletoshowyehowsuchshotsshouldbemade.”Heloosenedhislong-bow,slunghisquiverroundtothefront,andthenglancedkeenlyroundforafittingmark.Therewasayellowandwitheredstumpsomewayoff,seenunderthedroopingbranchesofaloftyoak.Thearchermeasuredthedistancewithhiseyeandthen,drawingthreeshafts,heshotthemoffwithsuchspeedthatthefirsthadnotreachedthemarkerethelastwasonthestring.Eacharrowpassedhighovertheoakand,ofthethree,twostuckfairintothestumpwhilethethird,caughtinsomewanderingpuffofwind,wasdrivenafootortwotooneside. “Good!”criedthenorthcountryman.“Hearkentohimlads!Heisamasterbowman.Yourdadsaysamentoeverywordhesays.” “Bymyhilt!”saidAylward,“ifIamtopreachonbowmanship,thewholelongdaywouldscarcegivemetimeformysermon.WehavemarksmenintheCompanywhowillnotchwithashafteverycreviceandjointofaman-at-arm'sharness,fromtheclaspofhisbassinettothehingeofhisgreave.But,withyourfavor,friend,Imustgathermyarrowsagain,forwhileashaftcostsapennyapoormancanscarceleavethemstickinginwaysidestumps.Wemust,then,onourroadagain,andIhopefrommyheartthatyoumaytrainthesetwoyounggoshawkshereuntiltheyarereadyforacastevenatsuchaquarryasyouspeakof.” Leavingthethumblessarcherandhisbrood,thewayfarersstruckthroughthescatteredhutsofEmeryDown,andoutontothebroadrollingheathcovereddeepinfernsandinheather,wheredrovesofthehalf-wildblackforestpigswererootingaboutamongstthehillocks.Thewoodsaboutthispointfallawaytotheleftandtheright,whiletheroadcurvesupwardsandthewindsweepskeenlyovertheswellinguplands.Thebroadstripsofbrackenglowedredandyellowagainsttheblackpeatysoil,andaqueenlydoewhograzedamongthemturnedherwhitefrontandhergreatquestioningeyestowardsthewayfarers.Alleynegazedinadmirationatthesupplebeautyofthecreaturebutthearcher'sfingersplayedwithhisquiver,andhiseyesglistenedwiththefellinstinctwhichurgesamantoslaughter. “TeteDieu!”hegrowled,“werethisFrance,orevenGuienne,weshouldhaveafreshhaunchforournone-meat.Lawornolaw,Ihaveamindtolooseaboltather.” “Iwouldbreakyourstaveacrossmykneefirst,”criedJohn,layinghisgreathanduponthebow.“What!man,Iamforest-born,andIknowwhatcomesofit.InourowntownshipofHordletwohavelosttheireyesandonehisskinforthisverything.Onmytroth,IfeltnogreatlovewhenIfirstsawyou,butsincethenIhaveconceivedovermuchregardforyoutowishtoseetheverderer'sflayeratworkuponyou.” “Itismytradetoriskmyskin,”growledthearcherbutnonethelesshethrusthisquiveroverhishipagainandturnedhisfaceforthewest. Astheyadvanced,thepathstilltendedupwards,runningfromheathintocopsesofhollyandyew,andsobackintoheathagain.Itwasjoyfultohearthemerrywhistleofblackbirdsastheydartedfromoneclumpofgreenerytotheother.Nowandagainapeatyambercoloredstreamrippledacrosstheirway,withfernyover-grownbanks,wherethebluekingfisherflittedbusilyfromsidetoside,orthegrayandpensiveheron,swollenwithtroutanddignity,stoodankle-deepamongthesedges.Chatteringjaysandloudwood-pigeonsflappedthicklyoverhead,whileeverandanonthemeasuredtappingofNature'scarpenter,thegreatgreenwoodpecker,soundedfromeachwaysidegrove.Oneitherside,ast