For an answer he reached up and took hold of the branch from which he had just dropped. He lowered his body as far as he could. Then with a spring as light as a monkey’s he shot into the air. He twisted his small legs, curling them with the suppleness of a snake. His body swung forward. He took another hold. He swung forward again. There was no strain nor gasping for breath. With a litheness that I had never judged possible he squirmed and swung himself, till in a short time he had completely disappeared among the trees. I looked at Charles and shook my head. We stood there forgetful of our enemies in utter amazement at the Dwarf’s agility. Then without a warning an arrow came darting through the air and dug its point deep into the ground at our feet. We jumped back and dodged behind a rock. We held our bows in readiness for an attack, with our eyes dancing anxiously in every direction. Then came a sharp, cackling laugh from over our heads. The branches swayed and the Dwarf dropped nimbly to the earth. He swung the bow which he held in his hand with a kind of childish pride and said, “I could have killed you both! The one arrow would have done it, for you were standing in a straight line!” He puffed himself out and strutted back and forth. “Nature has given me a crooked body,” he went on, “but I’m worth a dozen perfect men.” It began to dawn on me that the Dwarf was a bit of a fool. He was deformed, of course, but his imagination had played on him so that he pictured himself as the ugliest man on earth. I saw, too, that he was sensitive to a degree. It was this that caused him to boast about the strength of his arms and hands. His continual dwelling on his marksmanship with the bow was a balance to his shortcomings. My thoughts were interrupted by a cry from Charles. He grasped me by the shoulder and drew me down behind the wall of stone. “Look!” he cried. “There are a dozen of them moving through the woods!” Sure enough. I raised my head a little above the wall. I saw the forms of several men passing from tree to tree. They darted as though they feared to trust themselves in the open. “I have roused them!” cried the Dwarf. “I have stung them to the quick. They are forming for an attack. They will come forward with a rush.” He was right. No sooner had he spoken when a dozen arrows sped towards us. Their white feathers were like streaks in the air. We hid behind the wall as near to the earth as we could crouch. Two or three hard clicks against the rock in front of us showed that they had gotten the range. The flight of half a dozen others over our heads was warning enough that they were determined to drive us from our fortress at the cost of their lives.