Part 32 (1/2)

Proceeding to the workshops attached to the palace, they found that the bow was finished. It was constructed of a very tough, but elastic, wood. Three slips of this had been placed together and bound with sinews. Bathalda ran forward when he saw Roger, and taking his hand carried it to his forehead. Roger shook the stout fellow's hand, heartily.

”He is a brave fellow,” he said to Cuitcatl, who had accompanied them, ”and fought manfully and well. Had he not guarded my back during the fight, I should not be here to tell the tale, now.”

”We have made the bow according to our instructions,” the head of the artisans said respectfully to the king; ”but it does not seem to us possible that anyone can use it. Three of us have tried together to string it, but in vain.”

”It is a good bow,” Roger said, examining it.

”Do they shoot with weapons like that, over there?” Cacama asked, nodding in the direction of Mexico.

”No,” Roger said, ”for the most part they use crossbows, and their bows are much smaller than this. The English are the only people who use bows like this. They are our national weapons, and outside our island there are few, indeed, who can even bend them. As to the stringing, it is knack rather than strength. See here,” and taking the bow, which was just his own height, he placed his knee against it, bent it and slipped the string into the notch, with ease. Then holding it at arms length, he drew it till the string touched his ear.

”It is a great deal stiffer than that I made before, Bathalda; and is about the strength of those we use at home. Now for the arrows.”

These had been made by another set of men, and were an inch or two over a yard in length, with copper tips.

While he was examining them Cacama had taken up the bow, but though a strong and vigorous man for his race, he could bend it but a very short distance.

”It is a wonderful weapon,” he said, ”and I should not have thought that mortal man, whatever his color, could have used it. Now, let us go down into the practice yard.

”Cuitcatl, do you fetch the queen and her ladies, to look on.”

”I am no great marksman, Prince,” Roger said. ”I am perhaps somewhat better than an average shot, but I have seen marksmen who could do feats that I would not even attempt.”

They descended to the piece of ground, where many of the young n.o.bles were engaged in shooting, and in practice with arms. Roger had often been there before, but had carefully abstained from taking any part in the mimic contests; for he knew that men who are beaten sometimes feel malice, and he was anxious to keep on the best terms with all. Cuitcatl had often urged him to try a bout with himself, or others, with the sword; but this, too, he had always declined, and his friend had supposed that he was aware his skill was by no means equal to his strength. But now the Spaniards had proved to the Mexicans the fighting powers of white men, Roger had no longer any reasons for hanging back.

As soon as he was seen approaching with Cacama, the Mexicans abandoned their sport, and gathered round. The story of the defeat of a band of Montezuma's soldiers by the white man had been whispered abroad, and Cuitcatl had mentioned to his friends what he had heard, from Bathalda, of the mighty bow Roger had used; but when they saw the weapon with which he was now provided, their wonder was to a large extent mingled with incredulity. They pa.s.sed it from hand to hand, tried but in vain to bend it, and murmured among themselves that the thing was impossible.

”What will you have for your mark,” Cacama asked.

”One of these targets will do well enough,” he said, pointing to those at which the Mexicans had been shooting.

These were boards about five feet six in height, and some fourteen inches in width, presenting the size of a man. They were painted white and supported by a leg hinged behind them. The distance at which the Mexicans had been shooting was about forty yards.

Roger stepped a hundred from one of them, and made a mark upon the ground.

”An English archer would laugh at a target like that,” he said to Cacama, ”but it is nigh three years since I practiced. I have seen men who could with certainty, at this distance, hit a bird the size of a pigeon sitting on the top of that target, twenty times in succession, and think it by no means extraordinary shooting.”

The queen and some of her ladies now appeared upon a terrace looking down into the courtyard. Roger took the bow, fitted an arrow to the string, and drew it to his ear--a murmur of astonishment rising from the Aztecs. There was a pause for a moment, and then the arrow sped. There was a sharp tap as it struck the target, and stood quivering in it just in the center line about four feet from the ground.

”The bow is an excellent one,” Roger said, and quickly discharged two more arrows, both of which struck within two or three inches of the first. As it was the power of the bow, rather than his own shooting, that Roger wished to exhibit, he now had the target removed a hundred yards farther back, and others placed one on each side of it. At this distance he discharged three more arrows, shooting more carefully than before. All three struck the boards, although at varying heights; and a shout of surprise arose from the lookers on.

”How far will it carry?” Cacama asked.

”It might carry another hundred yards, but the aim cannot be depended upon at over two hundred yards, even by good shots,” Roger said. ”Of course, the longer ranges are useful for firing at a body of men. I should say that large tree would be about the extreme range. If you will send two men down to it, I will see whether I can shoot as far. We should not see the arrow from here. Will you tell them to stand one on each side of the tree, but well away from it? There is no saying where the arrow may go, at this distance.”

When two of the attendants had taken their places, twenty or thirty yards from the tree, Roger drew the bow to the fullest and, giving to the arrow the elevation he had been taught, as most suitable for an extreme range, unloosed the string. The arrow, which was of dark wood, glanced through the air. The eye could follow it only a short distance. No sound was heard this time, but in a few seconds the Mexicans were seen running towards the tree.

”Do not touch the arrow,” Cacama shouted; and then, followed by the crowd, for the numbers had greatly increased, as the news of what was going on had spread through the palace, he walked forward to the tree.

The ma.s.sive stem was more than four feet in diameter, and within a few inches of the center, and at a height of three feet from the ground, the arrow was sticking. The Mexicans were silent with astonishment, mingled with a certain amount of awe, for shooting like this seemed to them to be supernatural.