Tamba could have found his way through the forest almost blindfolded, so accustomed was he to the work, and Roger soon found him invaluable; for our hero was not yet so strong that he could march all day, struggling through the underwood, and then search for his evening meal. In fact, he had to take frequent rests, while Tamba went off into the forest, always with the knowledge that he could find his master with the greatest ease. It was on one of these occasions, when Roger lay full length in the shade, fanning himself with a leaf, that a beautiful creature, a deer of some species, leaped into the natural clearing on the edge of which Roger lay, and paused there, listening to the crash as Tamba pushed his way through the underwood. It was a fine opportunity, and for the first time for many a day Roger tried his hand with his favourite weapon. His hand sought the crossbow slowly and silently, and a shaft was fitted in a twinkling. But even the creak of the cord as the bow was sprung back was sufficient to alarm this wild creature. It lifted its head suspiciously, sniffed the air, and, catching sight of the strange figure at the base of the tree, bounded away in the opposite direction. Roger sat up suddenly and brought the bow to his shoulder. He took a rapid aim, and fired just as the deer was disappearing. Then he gave vent to a shout of triumph, which brought Tamba racing back to him. "A meal of flesh is more acceptable than one of fruit; at least it is so to me," said Roger, joyously. "Now, Tamba, set to work with me, and we will skin the beast, and cut him into quarters. But, tell me, how much farther have we to march before we come to the open country?" "About six leagues. Three hours will take us there, my lord." "Then we will push on as soon as the beast is quartered, and will carry the joints. To-night we will rest and feast, and to-morrow we will march into the open lands." Now that he was recovering, and feeling stronger and better every day, his heart was as light as a boy's, and he had long ago ceased to fret about the loss of his comrades. "We shall meet them again sooner or later," he said to Tamba, "and no amount of worrying will bring them to us earlier. Let us be happy and contented, and make the most of this experience. What would those at home give to see such forests, and to live such a life? They have no idea that these things exist, no thought of such trees and such flowers and fruit."