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HOW THE COMPANY MADE SPORT IN THE VALE OF PAMPELUNA.
WHILST the council was sitting in Pampeluna the White Company, having
encamped in a neighboring valley, close to the companies of La Nuit and of Black
Ortingo, were amusing themselves with sword-play, wrestling, and shooting at the
shields, which they had placed upon the hillside to serve them as butts.
The younger archers, with their coats of mail thrown aside, their brown
or flaxen hair tossing in the wind, and their jerkins turned back to give free
play to their brawny chests and arms, stood in lines, each loosing his shaft in
turn, while Johnston, Aylward, Black Simon, and half-a-score of the elders
lounged up and down with critical eyes, and a word of rough praise or of curt
censure for the marksmen. Behind
stood knots of Gascon and Brabant crossbowmen from the companies of Ortingo and
of La Nuit, leaning upon their unsightly weapons and watching the practice of
"A good shot, Hewett, a good shot!" said old Johnston to a
young bowman, who stood with his bow in his left hand, gazing with parted lips
after his flying shaft. "You
see, she finds the ring, as I knew she would from the moment that your string
"Loose it easy, steady, and yet sharp," said Aylward.
"By my hilt! mon gar., it is very well when you do but shoot at a
shield. but when there is a man
behind the shield, and he rides at you with wave of sword and glint of eyes from
behind his vizor, you may find him a less easy mark."
"It is a mark that I have found before now," answered the young
"And shall again, camarade, I doubt not.
But hola! Johnston, who is this who holds his bow like a
"It is Silas Peterson, of Horsham.
Do not wink with one eye and look with the other, Silas, and do not hop
and dance after you shoot, with your tongue out, for that will not speed it upon
its way. Stand straight and firm,
as God made you. Move not the bow arm, and steady with the drawing hand!"
"I' faith," said Black Simon, "I am a spearman myself, and
am more fitted for hand-strokes than for such work as this.
Yet I have spent my days among bowmen, and I have seen many a brave shaft
sped. I will not say but that we
have some good marksmen here, and that this Company would be accounted a fine
body of archers at any time or place. Yet
I do not see any men who bend so strong a bow or shoot as true a shaft as those
whom I have known."
"You say sooth," said Johnston, turning his seamed and grizzled
face upon the man-at-arms. "See
yonder," he added, pointing to a bombard which lay within the camp:
"there is what hath done scath to good bowmanship, with its filthy soot and
foolish roaring mouth. I wonder
that a true knight, like our prince, should carry such a scurvy thing in his
train. Robin, thou red-headed
lurden, how oft must I tell thee not to shoot straight with a quarter-wind
blowing across the mark?"
"By these ten finger-bones! there were some fine bowmen at the
intaking of Calais," said Aylward. "I
well remember that, on occasion of an outfall, a Genoan raised his arm over his
mantlet, and shook it at us, a hundred paces from our line. There were twenty
who loosed shafts at him, and when the man was afterwards slain it was found
that he had taken eighteen through his forearm."
"And I can call to mind," remarked Johnston, "that when
the great cog 'Christopher,' which the French had taken from us, was moored two
hundred paces from the shore, two archers, little Robin Withstaff and Elias
Baddlesmere, in four shots each cut every strand of her hempen anchor-cord, so
that she well-nigh came upon the rocks."
"Good shooting, i' faith rare shooting!" said Black Simon.
"But I have seen you, Johnston, and you, Samkin Aylwart, and one or two
others who are still with us, shoot as well as the best.
Was it not you, Johnston, who took the fat ox at Finsbury butts against
the pick of London town?"
A sunburnt and black-eyed Brabanter had stood near the old archers,
leaning upon a large crossbow and listening to their talk, which had been
carried on in that hybrid camp dialect which both nations could understand.
He was a squat, bull-necked man, clad in the iron helmet, mail tunic, and
woollen gambesson of his class. A
jacket with hanging sleeves, slashed with velvet at the neck and wrists, showed
that he was a man of some consideration, an under-officer, or file-leader of his
"I cannot think," said he, "why you English should be so
fond of your six-foot stick. If it
amuse you to bend it, well and good; but why should I strain and pull, when my
little moulinet will do all for me, and better than I can do it for
"I have seen good shooting with the prod and with the latch,"
said Aylward, "but, by my hilt! camarade, with all respect to you and to
your bow, I think that is but a woman's weapon, which a woman can point and
loose as easily as a man."
"I know not about that," answered the Brabanter, "but this
I know, that though I have served for fourteen years, I have never yet seen an
Englishman do aught with the long-bow which I could not do better with my
arbalest. By the three kings!
I would even go further, and say that I have done things with my arbalest
which no Englishman could do with his long-bow."
"Well said, mon gar.," cried Aylward.
"A good cock has ever a brave call.
Now, I have shot little of late, but there is Johnston here who will try
a round with you for the honor of the Company."
"And I will lay a gallon of Jurancon wine upon the long-bow,"
said Black Simon, "though I had rather, for my own drinking, that it were a
quart of Twynham ale."
"I take both your challenge and your wager," said the man of
Brabant, throwing off his jacket and glancing keenly about him with his black,
twinkling eyes. "I cannot see any fitting mark, for I care not to waste
a bolt upon these shields, which a drunken boor could not miss at a village
"This is a perilous man," whispered an English man-at-arms,
plucking at Aylward's sleeve. "He
is the best marksman of all the crossbow companies and it was he who brought
down the Constable de Bourbon at Brignais, I fear that your man will come by
little honor with him."
"Yet I have seen Johnston shoot these twenty years, and I will not
flinch from it. How say you, old
warhound, will you not have a flight shot or two with this springald?"
"Tut, tut, Aylward," said the old bowman.
" My day is past, and it is for the younger ones to hold what we
have gained. I take it unkindly of thee, Samkin, that thou shouldst call
all eyes thus upon a broken bowman who could once shoot a fair shaft. Let me
feel that bow, Wilkins! It is a
Scotch bow, I see, for the upper nock is without and the lower within.
By the black rood! it is a good piece of yew, well nocked, well strung,
well waxed, and very joyful to the feel. I
think even now that I might hit any large and goodly mark with a bow like this.
Turn thy quiver to me, Aylward. I
love an ash arrow pierced with cornel-wood for a roving shaft."
"By my hilt! and so do I," cried Aylward.
"These three gander- winged shafts are such."
"So I see, comrade. It
has been my wont to choose a saddle- backed feather for a dead shaft, and a
swine-backed for a smooth flier. I
will take the two of them. Ah!
Samkin, lad, the eye grows dim and the hand less firm as the years pass."
"Come then, are you not ready?" said the Brabanter, who had
watched with ill-concealed impatience the slow and methodic movements of his
"I will venture a rover with you, or try long-butts or hoyles,"
said old Johnston. "To my mind the long-bow is a better weapon than the
arbalest, but it may be ill for me to prove it."
"So I think," quoth the other with a sneer.
He drew his moulinet from his girdle, and fixing it to the windlass, he
drew back the powerful double cord until it had clicked into the catch.
Then from his quiver he drew a short, thick quarrel, which he placed with
the utmost care upon the groove. Word
had spread of what was going forward, and the rivals were already surrounded,
not only by the English archers of the Company, but by hundreds of arbalestiers
and men-at-arms from the bands of Ortingo and La Nuit, to the latter of which
the Brabanter belonged.
"There is a mark yonder on the hill," said he; "mayhap you
can discern it."
"I see something," answered Johnston, shading his eyes with his
hand; "but it is a very long shoot."
"A fair shoot--a fair shoot! Stand
aside, Arnaud, lest you find a bolt through your gizzard.
Now, comrade, I take no flight shot, and I give you the vantage of
watching my shaft."
As he spoke he raised his arbalest to his shoulder and was about to pull
the trigger, when a large gray stork flapped heavily into view skimming over the
brow of the hill, and then soaring up into the air to pass the valley.
Its shrill and piercing cries drew all eyes upon it, and, as it came
nearer, a dark spot which circled above it resolved itself into a peregrine
falcon, which hovered over its head, poising itself from time to time, and
watching its chance of closing with its clumsy quarry.
Nearer and nearer came the two birds, all absorbed in their own contest,
the stork wheeling upwards, the hawk still fluttering above it, until they were
not a hundred paces from the camp. The
Brabanter raised his weapon to the sky, and there came the short, deep twang of
his powerful string. His bolt
struck the stork just where its wing meets the body, and the bird whirled aloft
in a last convulsive flutter before falling wounded and flapping to the earth.
A roar of applause burst from the crossbowmen; but at the instant that
the bolt struck its mark old Johnston, who had stood listlessly with arrow on
string, bent his bow and sped a shaft through the body of the falcon.
Whipping the other from his belt, he sent it skimming some few feet from
the earth with so true an aim that it struck and transfixed the stork for the
second time ere it could reach the ground.
A deep-chested shout of delight burst from the archers at the sight of
this double feat, and Aylward, dancing with joy, threw his arms round the old
marksman and embraced him with such vigor that their mail tunics clanged again.
"Ah! camarade," he cried, "you shall have a stoup with me
for this! What then, old dog, would
not the hawk please thee, but thou must have the stork as well.
Oh, to my heart again!"
"It is a pretty piece of yew, and well strung," said Johnston
with a twinkle in his deep-set gray eyes. "Even
an old broken bowman might find the clout with a bow like this."
"You have done very well," remarked the Brabanter in a surly
voice. "But it seems to me
that you have not yet shown yourself to be a better marksman than I, for I have
struck that at which I aimed, and, by the three kings! no man can do more."
"It would ill beseem me to claim to be a better marksman,"
answered Johnston, "for I have heard great things of your skill. I did but
wish to show that the long-bow could do that which an arbalest could not do, for
you could not with your moulinet have your string ready to speed another shaft
ere the bird drop to the earth."
"In that you have vantage," said the crossbowman.
"By Saint James! it is now my turn to show you where my weapon has
the better of you. I pray you to
draw a flight shaft with all your strength down the valley, that we may see the
length of your shoot."
"That is a very strong prod of yours," said Johnston, shaking
his grizzled head as he glanced at the thick arch and powerful strings of his
rival's arbalest. "I have
little doubt that you can overshoot me, and yet I have seen bowmen who could
send a cloth-yard arrow further than you could speed a quarrel."
"So I have heard," remarked the Brabanter; "and yet it is
a strange thing that these wondrous bowmen are never where I chance to be.
Pace out the distances with a wand at every five score, and do you,
Arnaud, stand at the fifth wand to carry back my bolts to me."
A line was measured down the valley, and Johnston, drawing an arrow to
the very head, sent it whistling over the row of wands.
"Bravely drawn! A rare
shoot!" shouted the bystanders.
"It is well up to the fourth mark."
"By my hilt! it is over it," cried Aylward.
"I can see where they have stooped to gather up the shaft."
"We shall hear anon," said Johnston quietly, and presently a
young archer came running to say that the arrow had fallen twenty paces beyond
the fourth wand.
"Four hundred paces and a score," cried Black Simon.
"I' faith, it is a very long flight.
Yet wood and steel may do more than flesh and blood."
The Brabanter stepped forward with a smile of conscious triumph, and
loosed the cord of his weapon. A
shout burst from his comrades as they watched the swift and lofty flight of the
"Over the fourth!" groaned Aylward.
"By my hilt! I think that it is well up to the fifth."
"It is over the fifth!" cried a Gascon loudly, and a comrade
came running with waving arms to say that the bolt had pitched eight paces
beyond the mark of the five hundred.
"Which weapon hath the vantage now?" cried the Brabanter,
Strutting proudly about with shouldered arbalest, amid the applause of his
"You can overshoot me," said Johnston gently.
"Or any other man who ever bent a long-bow," cried his
"Nay, not so fast," said a huge archer, whose mighty shoulders
and red head towered high above the throng of his comrades. "I must have a
word with you ere you crow so loudly. Where
is my little popper? By sainted
Dick of Hampole! it will be a strange thing if I cannot outshoot that thing of
thine, which to my eyes is more like a rat-trap than a bow.
Will you try another flight, or do you stand by your last?"
"Five hundred and eight paces will serve my turn," answered the
Brabanter, looking askance at this new opponent.
"Tut, John," whispered Aylward, "you never were a
marksman. Why must you thrust your
spoon into this dish?"
"Easy and slow, Aylward. There
are very many things which I cannot do, but there are also one or two which I
have the trick of. It is in my mind
that I can beat this shoot, if my bow will but hold together."
"Go on, old babe of the woods!" "Have at it,
Hampshire!" cried the archers laughing.
"By my soul! you may grin," cried John.
"But I learned how to make the long shoot from old Hob Miller of
Milford." He took up a great black bow, as he spoke, and sitting down upon
the ground he placed his two feet on either end of the stave.
With an arrow fitted, he then pulled the string towards him with both
hands until the head of the shaft was level with the wood.
The great bow creaked and groaned and the cord vibrated with the tension.
"Who is this fool's-head who stands in the way of my shoot?"
said he, craning up his neck from the ground.
"He stands on the further side of my mark," answered the
Brabanter, "so he has little to fear from you."
"Well, the saints assoil him!" cried John.
"Though I think he is over-near to be scathed."
As he spoke he raised his two feet, with the bow-stave upon their soles,
and his cord twanged with a deep rich hum which might be heard across the
valley. The measurer in the distance fell flat upon his face, and then jumping
up again, he began to run in the opposite direction.
"Well shot, old lad! It
is indeed over his head," cried the bowmen.
"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the Brabanter, "who ever saw such a
"It is but a trick," quoth John.
"Many a time have I won a gallon of ale by covering a mile in three
flights down Wilverley Chase."
"It fell a hundred and thirty paces beyond the fifth mark,"
shouted an archer in the distance.
"Six hundred and thirty paces! Mon Dieu! but that is a shoot! And
yet it says nothing for your weapon, mon gros camarade, for it was by turning
yourself into a crossbow that you did it."
"By my hilt! there is truth in that," cried Aylward.
"And now, friend, I will myself show you a vantage of the long-bow.
I pray you to speed a bolt against yonder shield with all your force. It is an
inch of elm with bull's hide over it."
"I scarce shot as many shafts at Brignais," growled the man of
Brabant; "though I found a better mark there than a cantle of bull's hide.
But what is this, Englishman? The
shield hangs not one hundred paces from me, and a blind man could strike
it." He screwed up his string
to the furthest pitch, and shot his quarrel at the dangling shield. Aylward, who had drawn an arrow from his quiver, carefully
greased the head of it, and sped it at the same mark.
"Run, Wilkins," quoth he, "and fetch me the shield."
Long were the faces of the Englishmen and broad the laugh of the
crossbowmen as the heavy mantlet was carried towards them, for there in the
centre was the thick Brabant bolt driven deeply into the wood, while there was
neither sign nor trace of the cloth- yard shaft.
"By the three kings!" cried the Brabanter, "this time at
least there is no gainsaying which is the better weapon, or which the truer hand
that held it. You have missed the
"Tarry a bit! tarry a bit, mon gar.!" quoth Aylward, and turning round
the shield he showed a round clear hole in the wood at the back of it.
"My shaft has passed through it, camarade, and I trow the one which
goes through is more to be feared than that which bides on the way,"
The Brabanter stamped his foot with mortification, and was about to make
some angry reply, when Alleyne Edricson came riding up to the crowds of archers.
"Sir Nigel will be here anon," said he, "and it is his
wish to speak with the Company."
In an instant order and method took the place of general confusion.
Bows, steel caps, and jacks were caught up from the grass.
A long cordon cleared the camp of all strangers, while the main body fell
into four lines with under-officers and file- leaders in front and on either
flank. So they stood, silent and
motionless, when their leader came riding towards them, his face shining and his
whole small figure swelling with the news which he bore.
"Great honor has been done to us, men," cried he: "for, of
all the army, the prince has chosen us out that we should ride onwards into the
lands of Spain to spy upon our enemies. Yet,
as there are many of us, and as the service may not be to the liking of all, I
pray that those will step forward from the ranks who have the will to follow
There was a rustle among the bowmen, but when Sir Nigel looked up at them
no man stood forward from his fellows, but the four lines of men stretched
unbroken as before. Sir Nigel blinked at them in amazement, and a look of the
deepest sorrow shadowed his face.
"That I should live to see the day!" he cried, "What! not
"My fair lord," whispered Alleyne, "they have all stepped
"Ah, by Saint Paul! I see how it is with them.
I could not think that they would desert me.
We start at dawn to-morrow, and ye are to have the horses of Sir Robert
Cheney's company. Be ready, I pray ye, at early cock-crow."
A buzz of delight burst from the archers, as they broke their ranks and
ran hither and thither, whooping and cheering like boys who have news of a
holiday. Sir Nigel gazed after them
with a smiling face, when a heavy hand fell upon his shoulder.
"What ho! my knight-errant of Twynham!" said a voice, "You
are off to Ebro, I hear; and, by the holy fish of Tobias! you must take me under
"What! Sir Oliver
Buttesthorn!" cried Sir Nigel. "I had heard that you were come into camp, and had hoped
to see you. Glad and proud shall I be to have you with me."
"I have a most particular and weighty reason for wishing to
go," said the sturdy knight.
"I can well believe it," returned Sir Nigel; "I have met
no man who is quicker to follow where honor leads."
"Nay, it is not for honor that I go, Nigel."
"For what then?"
"Yes, for the rascal vanguard have cleared every hen from the
country-side. It was this very
morning that Norbury, my squire, lamed his horse in riding round in quest of
one, for we have a bag of truffles, and nought to eat with them.
Never have I seen such locusts as this vanguard of ours.
Not a pullet shall we see until we are in front of them; so I shall leave
my Winchester runagates to the care of the provost-marshal, and I shall hie
south with you, Nigel, with my truffles at my saddle-bow."
"Oliver, Oliver, I know you over-well," said Sir Nigel, shaking
his head, and the two old soldiers rode off together to their pavilion.
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