"Why not?" asked the colonel, smiling at Jack's surprise. "I don't
sleep on the ground from choice, when I have a comfortable bed."
"But, you said--" continued Jack.
"This is a permanent headquarters," the colonel went on. "When I
go on a march I don't carry all these things with me. What we don't
have we get along without, as part of the day's task."
"That's a grand pair of horns on that elk's head," admired Rand,
who was looking at the trophies of the chase that hung on the walls.
"Isn't there a story that goes with that?"
"Not much of a story," replied the colonel. "It was killed on a trip
I made up in the Canadian Northwest, and it was a narrow escape for
me, too. It was killed by an arrow from one of those bows there."
"An arrow!" exclaimed Rand. "I didn't know that an elk could be
killed with an arrow."
"An arrow is as deadly as a bullet at short range," replied the
colonel. "You have read of the English archers and their famous
long-bows, haven't you?"
"And Robin Hood," put in Pepper.
"Robin Hood, of course," continued the colonel.
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