piece of tough, young wood and stretched between the ends a cord
twisted out of the fiber taken from the cocoanut shell. He then sought
for a piece of wood for arrows. He split the ends with his flint knife
and fastened in splinters of stone. At the other end he fastened on
some feathers found on the ground. The arrows flew through the air
with great swiftness. "They will go far enough," thought Robinson,
"if I could only hit anything."

He practised shooting. He stuck his stone knife in a tree and shot
at it the whole day long. At first he could not hit it at all. The
arrows flew far from the mark. After a while he could hit the tree,
but not the knife. Then as he practised, his arm grew ever surer, until
at last he could hit the knife at almost every attempt. After a few
days he again went rabbit hunting. He thought that the rabbit did not
offer a mark so high as his knife, so he stuck a stone in the ground
and practised shooting at that. He gradually increased the distance
until he could hit the mark at twenty or thirty yards.

The next morning Robinson took his bow and arrows and went out to
hunt. He aimed at a rabbit, shot, and it fell, pierced by the arrow.
His very first shot was successful.

He hastened up and took the dead rabbit on his shoulder, carried it
to his cave and skinned it. Then he cut off a nice, large piece of
meat and was going to roast it, but alas, he had no fire!




XV