They Begin their Travels in Earnest.
When their weapons were complete our three travellers started on their journey of exploration in the new-found land.
Captain Trench armed himself with a strong, heavily-made cross-bow, and a birch-bark quiver full of bolts. Paul Burns carried a bow as long as himself, with a quiver full of the orthodox “cloth-yard shafts.” Oliver provided himself with a bow and arrows more suited to his size, and, being naturally sanguine, he had also made for himself a sling with the cord he chanced to possess and the leathern tongue of one of his shoes. He likewise carried a heavy bludgeon, somewhat like a policeman’s baton, which was slung at his side. Not content with this, he sought and obtained permission to carry the axe in his belt. Of course, none of the bolts or arrows had metal points; but that mattered little, as the wood of which they were made was very hard, and could be sharpened to a fine point; and, being feathered, the missiles flew straight to the mark when pointed in the right direction.
“Now, captain,” said Paul, on the morning they set out, “let’s see what you can do with your cross-bow at the first bird you meet. I mean the first eatable bird; for I have no heart to kill the little twitterers around us for the mere sake of practice.”
“That will I right gladly,” said Trench, fixing his bow and string, and inserting a bolt with a confident air.
“And there’s a chance, daddy! See! a bird that seems to wish to be shot, it sits so quietly on the tree.”
The seaman raised his weapon slowly to his shoulder, shut the wrong eye, glared at the bird with the other, took a long unsteady aim, and sent his bolt high over the creature’s head, as well as very much to one side.
“Might have been worse!” said the captain.
“Might have been better,” returned Paul, with equal truth. “Now it’s my turn.”
The bird, all ignorant of the fate intended for it, sat still, apparently in surprise.