"
Meanwhile there had been bustle and preparation in all parts of
the great vessel. The archers stood in groups about the decks,
new-stringing their bows, and testing that they were firm at the
nocks. Among them moved Aylward and other of the older soldiers,
with a few whispered words of precept here and of warning there.
"Stand to it, my hearts of gold," said the old bowman as he
passed from knot to knot. "By my hilt! we are in luck this
journey. Bear in mind the old saying of the Company."
"What is that, Aylward?" cried several, leaning on their bows and
laughing at him.
"'Tis the master-bowyer's rede: `Every bow well bent. Every
shaft well sent. Every stave well nocked. Every string well
locked.' There, with that jingle in his head, a bracer on his
left hand, a shooting glove on his right, and a farthing's-worth
of wax in his girdle, what more doth a bowman need?"
"It would not be amiss," said Hordle John, "if under his girdle
he had tour farthings'-worth of wine."
"Work first, wine afterwards, mon camarade. But it is time that
we took our order, for methinks that between the Needle rocks and
the Alum cliffs yonder I can catch a glimpse of the topmasts of
the galleys.
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