"They said well," answered Arnold Biederman; "and the stranger, did he string the bow?"
"He did, my uncle, but first he wrote something on a piece of paper, and placed it in my hands."
"And did he shoot and hit the mark?" continued the surprised Switzer.
"He first," said the maiden, "removed the pole a hundred yards farther than the post where it stood."
"Singular!" said the Landamman, "that is double the usual distance."
"He then drew the bow," continued the maiden, "and shot off, one after another, with incredible rapidity, the three arrows which he had stuck into his belt. The first cleft the pole, the second cut the string, the third killed the poor bird as it rose into the air."
"By St. Mary of Einsiedlen," said the old man, looking up in amaze, "if your eyes really saw this, they saw such archery as was never before witnessed in the Forest States!"
"I say nay to that, my revered kinsman," replied Rudolph Donnerhugel, whose vexation was apparent; "it was mere chance, if not illusion or witchery."
"What say'st thou of it thyself, Arthur," said his father, half smiling. "Was thy success by chance or skill?"
"My father," said the young man, "I need not tell you that I have done but an ordinary feat for an English bowman. Nor do I speak to gratify that misproud and ignorant young man. But to our worthy host and his family, I make answer. This youth charges me with having deluded men's eyes, or hit the mark by chance. For illusion, yonder is the pierced pole, the severed string, and the slain bird, they will endure sight and handling; and, besides, if that fair maiden will open the note which I put into her hand, she will find evidence to assure you, that even before I drew the bow, I had fixed upon the three marks which I designed to aim at."