98 THE HERON OF CASTLE CREEK 



mingled with the teamsters ; and cooks and 

 scullions loitered at the doors of butteries and 

 cellars. A few couples of setting dogs and 

 springers in leash followed at the heels of a 

 falconer as he crossed the yard from the port- 

 cullis to the mews. High tide filled the creek, 

 and boats and barges that had recently crossed 

 the ferry lay unloading their miscellaneous 

 freights at the water-gate. 



On the grassy battlements of the keep, far 

 above the highest tendrils of the ivy, and out 

 of sight of the crowd in the Castle yard, stood 

 a fair-haired boy practising archery. An old 

 forester knelt by his side, directing him. The 

 target, a rude straw image, with a circle painted 

 in Norway tar for " clout," was placed at the 

 edge of the woods on the opposite bank of the 

 creek ; and there, beside a giant beech trunk, 

 another old forester watched the archery, and 

 collected the arrows. Presently, when his quiver 

 was full, he returned the shafts with ease and 

 precision from his own bow to the archers on 

 the keep, having first, however, tipped each 

 barb with a small piece of wood cut from a pithy 

 elder growing close at hand, and thus ensured 

 that it should not be bent or blunted as it fell on 

 the stones of the Castle roof. 



Both these old foresters dearly loved the 

 youthful archer. He, the only son of the Earl, 



