What success he had in his undertaking was soon visible to the anxious eye of Catherine, on her father’s return with him from the forest. “A clever lad, that William,” said the old man; “who would have expected such a shot in a townsman? I’ll speak to the steward myself to-morrow; it would be a thousand pities such a marksman should not stick to the noble huntsman craft. Ha! ha! he will become a second Kuno. But do you know who Kuno was?” demanded he of William.
The latter replied in the negative.
“Lo you there now!” ejaculated Bertram; “I thought I had told you long since. He was my ancestor, the first who possessed this situation. He was originally a poor horseboy in the train of the knight of Wippach; but he was clever, obliging, grew a favourite, and attended his master every where, to tournaments and hunting parties. Once his knight accompanied the duke on a grand hunting match, at which all the nobles attended. The hounds chased a huge stag towards them, upon whose back, to their great astonishment, sat tied a human being, shrieking aloud in a most frightful manner. There existed at that period, among the feudal lords, an inhuman custom of tying unhappy wretches who incurred their displeasure (perhaps by slight transgressions against the hunting laws) upon stags, and then driving them into the forest to perish miserably by hunger, or at least to be torn to pieces by the brambles. The duke was excessively enraged at this sight, and offered immense rewards to any one who would shoot the stag; but clogged his benefactions with death to the marksman, should his erring bullet touch the victim, whose life he was desirous to preserve, in order to ascertain the nature of his offence. Startled by the conditions, not one of the train attempted the rescue of the poor wretch, till Kuno, pitying his fate, stepped forward and boldly offered his services. The duke having accepted them, he took his rifle, loaded it in God’s name, and earnestly recommending the ball to all the saints and angels in heaven, fired steadily into the bush in which he believed the stag had taken refuge. His aim was true; the animal instantly sprung out, plunged to the earth, and expired; but the poor culprit escaped unhurt, except that his hands and face were miserably torn by the briers. The duke kept his word well, and gave to Kuno and his descendants for ever this situation of forester. But envy naturally follows merit, and my good ancestor was not long in making the discovery. There were many of the duke’s people who had an eye to this situation, either for themselves or some cousin or dear friend, and these persuaded their masters that Kuno’s wonderful success was entirely owing to sorcery; upon which, though they could not turn him out of his post, they obtained an order that every one of his descendants should undergo a trial of his skill before he could be accepted; but which, however, the chief forester of the district, before whom the essay is made, can render as easy or difficult as he pleases. I was obliged to shoot a ring out of the beak of a wooden bird, which was swung backwards and forwards; but I did not fail, any more than my forefathers; and he who intends to succeed me, and wed my Catherine, must be at least as good a marksman.”
William, who had listened very attentively, was delighted with this piece of family history; he seized the old man’s hand, and joyously promised to become, under his direction, the very first of marksmen; such as even grandfather Kuno himself should have no cause to blush for.
Scarcely had fourteen happy days passed over his head, ere William was settled as gamekeeper in the forester’s house; and Bertram, who became fonder of him every day, gave his formal consent to his engagement with Catherine. It was, however, agreed that their betrothment should be kept secret until the day of the marksman’s trial, when the forester expected to give a greater degree of splendour to his family festival by the presence of the duke’s commissary. The bridegroom swam in an ocean of delight, and so entirely forgot himself and the whole world in the sweet opening heaven of love, that Bertram frequently insisted, that he had not been able to hit a single mark since he had aimed so successfully at Catherine.
And so it really was. From the day of his happy betrothment, William had encountered nothing but disasters while shooting. At one time his gun missed fire; at another, when he aimed at a deer, he lodged the contents of his rifle in the trunk of a tree: when he came home, and emptied his shooting-pouch, he found, instead of partridges, rooks and crows, and in lieu of hares, dead cats. The forester at length grew seriously angry, and reproved him harshly for his carelessness; even Catherine began to tremble for the success of the master-shot.
William redoubled his diligence, but to no purpose; the nearer the approach of the important day, the more alarming grew his misfortunes; every shot missed. At length he was almost afraid to fire a gun, lest he should do some mischief; for he had already lamed a cow and almost killed the cowherd.
“I insist upon it,” said the gamekeeper Rudolph, one evening, to the party, “I insist upon it that some wizard has bewitched William, for such things could not happen naturally; therefore let us endeavour to loosen the charm.”—“Superstitious stuff!” interrupted Bertram, angrily; “an honest woodsman should not even think of such trash. Do you forget the three things which a forester ought to have, and with which he will always be successful, in spite of sorcery? Come, to your wits, answer my query.” “That can I truly,” answered Rudolph; “he should have great skill, a keen dog, and a good gun.” “Enough,” said Bertram; “with these three things every charm may be loosened, or the owner of them is a dunce and no shot.”
“Under favour, father Bertram,” said William, “here is my gun; what have you to object against it? and as for my skill, I do not like to praise myself, but I think I am as fair a sportsman as any in the country; nevertheless, it seems as if all my balls went crooked, or as if the wind blew them away from the barrel of my gun. Only tell me what I shall do. I am willing to do any thing.” “It is singular,” muttered the forester, who did not know what else to say.
“Believe me, William,” again began Rudolph, “it is nothing but what I have said. Try only once: go on a Friday, at midnight, to a cross road, and make a circle round you with the ramrod, or with a bloody sword, which must be blessed three times, in the name of Sammiel”—“Silence!” interrupted Bertram, angrily: “know ye whose name that is? he is one of the fiend’s dark legion. God protect us and every Christian from him!” William crossed himself devoutly, and would hear nothing further, though Rudolph still maintained his opinion. He passed the night in cleaning his gun, and examining minutely every screw, resolving, at dawn of day, once more to sally forth, and try his fortune in the forest. He did so, but, alas! in vain. Mischiefs thickened round him: at ten paces distance he fired three times at a deer; twice his gun missed fire, and although it went off the third time, yet the stag bounded away unhurt into the midst of the forest. Full of vexation, he threw himself under a tree, and cursed his fate, when suddenly a rustling was heard among the bushes, and a queer-looking soldier with a wooden leg came hopping out from among them.