Instantly the whole crowd were on their feet, all talking at once and making so much noise that the tally keepers could not be heard.
"Five—seven—nine are the points; twenty-one for final score," they shouted.
The Golden Hearted flung down his bow and stepped to one side to make room for Wunzh. He stood wiping the perspiration off his forehead and was pleased because he saw that every one felt kindly toward him.
"Now the jossakeeds will learn how to shoot!" exclaimed the men who had backed Wunzh.
"He will never equal the first score," said others who were skillful with a bow and arrow themselves and knew how hard it was to make such fine shots.
Wunzh sent his first arrow with a vim and energy that showed he had been in constant practice, but all three of his darts sped feebly and barely indented the black ring.
"The jossakeeds hold the first station," announced the judges. "Move on to the next one."
Now came the real test of skill, and every man was interested because they all made use of the bow and arrow, in hunting and in war, and had no other kind of weapon except a knife. Hundreds of the spectators left their seats and crowded around the contestants.
The heavy hunting bow was laid aside now and one made of elastic but tough yew was substituted. The arrows had finely-pointed obsidian heads, matched and smooth but sharp as a needle.
The Golden Hearted was careful to see that the yew was properly seasoned and when satisfied, he placed the arrow on the left side of the bow with its notch set on the string. He drew the string back to just below the chin, aimed over the arrow tip and let fly.