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"
You
keep
on
telling
us
,
"
said
Nobby
unsympathetically
.
"
Well
,
I
used
to
win
prizes
.
"
The
sergeant
unwound
a
new
bowstring
,
looped
it
around
one
end
of
the
bow
,
stood
up
,
pressed
down
,
grunted
a
bit
.
.
.
"
Er
.
Carrot
?
"
he
said
,
slightly
out
of
breath
.
"
Yes
,
Sarge
?
"
"
You
any
good
at
stringing
bows
?
"
Carrot
grasped
the
bow
,
compressed
it
easily
,
and
slipped
the
other
end
of
the
string
into
place
.
"
That
’
s
a
good
start
,
Sarge
,
"
said
Nobby
.
"
Don
’
t
you
be
sarcastic
with
me
,
Nobby
!
It
ain
’
t
strength
,
it
’
s
keenness
of
eye
and
steadiness
of
hand
what
counts
.
Now
you
pass
me
an
arrow
.
Not
that
one
!
"
Nobby
’
s
fingers
froze
in
the
act
of
grasping
a
shaft
.
"
That
’
s
my
lucky
arrow
!
"
spluttered
Colon
.
"
None
of
you
is
to
touch
my
lucky
arrow
!
"
