"I think it is about the strength of the bows we use at home," Roger said. "The stringing them is a matter of knack, as well as of strength." And, to the amazement of the Aztec, he strung the bow. "Now," said he, "let us make some arrows. They should be a cloth yard in length--that is, from the middle of my chest to the end of my middle finger." A dozen of the light bamboos were cut to this length. The huntsman fitted the obsidian points to them, and Roger stepped back a hundred yards from the small tree, with a trunk some six inches in diameter, under whose shade they had been sitting. Then he fitted the arrow to the string, bent the bow to its head, and loosed the arrow. It struck the trunk, but glanced off. "I am out of practice, indeed," he said, "or I should have hit that fair in the center." To the huntsman, however, the shot seemed well-nigh miraculous, the distance being twice as great as the Mexican bows would carry, with anything like accuracy; while the speed with which the arrow flew, and the distance it went after glancing from the tree, showed that it would have been fatal at least fifty yards beyond the object aimed at. Taking the bow from Roger, he fitted another arrow in and tried to bend it; but with all his efforts could only draw the arrow four or five inches. "It is wonderful," he said, returning the weapon to Roger. "If I had not seen it done, I could not have believed it." "It is merely a matter of practice," Roger said. "My people are famous for their dexterity with the bow, and I have seen men hit a mark no bigger than the palm of my hand, ten times in succession, at that distance." The next time they halted, Bathalda made the rest of the bamboos into arrows and, making a quiver of the bark of a tree, hung them over his shoulder. Roger left his spear behind; using the bow, which he had unstrung, as a walking staff. Bathalda offered to carry the spear, in addition to his own weapon, but Roger told him that he did not care about it. "If it should come to a hand-to-hand fight," he said, "I would rather rely on my ax. Besides, the bow, now it is unstrung, makes an excellent quarterstaff, a weapon with which I have practiced a great deal. With a spear your people would know quite as much as I should; but I fancy that, with a quarterstaff, I should astonish them. It has the advantage, too, that it disables without killing; and as your soldiers would only be doing their duty in arresting me, I should be sorry to do them more harm than I could help. "There were a great many men on the road below there, today." "A great many, my lord; and no doubt the garrisons of the two towns we shall have to pass tonight will be all out, and on the watch. This is the most dangerous part of the journey. The mountains are rugged, and there are only certain passes by which we can travel, and they are sure to be watched narrowly. They will guess that we shall travel by night."