with their
noses in the air, at last brought them down from the perpendicular to
the horizontal position, and said, "Pooh, this lad is a humbug! The
arrow's lost; let's go!"

"HEADS!" cried Otto, laughing. A speck was seen rapidly descending from
the heavens; it grew to be as big as a crown-piece, then as a partridge,
then as a tea-kettle, and flop! down fell a magnificent heron to the
ground, flooring poor Max in its fall.

"Take the arrow out of his eye, Wolfgang," said Otto, without looking at
the bird: "wipe it and put it back into my quiver."

The arrow indeed was there, having penetrated right through the pupil.

"Are you in league with Der Freischutz?" said Rudolf, quite amazed.

Otto laughingly whistled the "Huntsman's Chorus," and said, "No, my
friend. It was a lucky shot: only a lucky shot. I was taught shooting,
look you, in the fashion of merry England, where the archers are archers
indeed."

And so he cut off the heron's wing for a plume for his hat; and the
archers walked on, much amazed, and saying, "What a wonderful country
that merry England must be!"

Far from feeling any envy at their comrade's success, the jolly archers
recognized his superiority with pleasure; and Wolfgang and Rudolf
especially held out their hands to the younker, and besought the honor
of his friendship. They continued their walk all day, and when night
fell made choice of a good hostel you may be sure, where over beer,
punch, champagne, and every luxury, they drank to the health of the
Duke of Cleves, and indeed each other's healths all round. Next day they
resumed their march, and continued it without interruption, except to
take in a supply of victuals here and there (and it was found on these
occasions that Otto, young as he was, could eat four times as much as
the oldest archer present, and drink to correspond); and these continued
refreshments having given them more than ordinary strength, they
determined on making rather a long march of it, and did not halt till
after nightfall at the gates of the little town of Windeck.

What was to be done? the town-gates were shut. "Is there no hostel, no
castle where we can sleep?" asked Otto of the sentinel at the gate.
"I am so hungry that in lack of better food I think I could eat my
grandmamma."

The sentinel laughed at this hyperbolical expression of hunger, and
said, "You had best go sleep at the Castle of Windeck yonder;" adding
with a peculiarly knowing look, "Nobody w