t nail was driven lightly into the target, its head having been
first touched with paint, and the marksman was required to hit it, or
he lost his chances in the succeeding trials. No one was permitted to
enter, on this occasion, who had already failed in the essay against the
bull's-eye.

There might have been half a dozen aspirants for the honors of this
trial; one or two, who had barely succeeded in touching the spot of
paint in the previous strife, preferring to rest their reputations
there, feeling certain that they could not succeed in the greater effort
that was now exacted of them. The first three adventurers failed, all
coming very near the mark, but neither touching it. The fourth person
who presented himself was the Quartermaster, who, after going through
his usual attitudes, so far succeeded as to carry away a small portion
of the head of the nail, planting his bullet by the side of its point.
This was not considered an extraordinary shot, though it brought the
adventurer within the category.

"You've saved your bacon, Quartermaster, as they say in the settlements
of their creaturs," cried Pathfinder, laughing; "but it would take a
long time to build a house with a hammer no better than yours. Jasper,
here, will show you how a nail is to be started, or the lad has lost
some of his steadiness of hand and sartainty of eye. You would have
done better yourself, Lieutenant, had you not been so much bent on
soldierizing your figure. Shooting is a natural gift, and is to be
exercised in a natural way."

"We shall see, Pathfinder; I call that a pretty attempt at a nail; and
I doubt if the 55th has another hammer, as you call it, that can do just
the same thing over again."

"Jasper is not in the 55th, but there goes his rap."

As the Pathfinder spoke, the bullet of Eau-douce hit the nail square,
and drove it into the target, within an inch of the head.

"Be all ready to clench it, boys!" cried out Pathfinder, stepping into
his friend's tracks the instant they were vacant. "Never mind a new
nail; I can see that, though the paint is gone, and what I can see I can
hit, at a hundred yards, though it were only a mosquito's eye. Be ready
to clench!"

The rifle cracked, the bullet sped its way, and the head of the nail was
buried in the wood, covered by the piece of flattened lead.

"Well, Jasper, lad," continued Pathfinder, dropping the butt-end of
his rifle to the ground, and resuming the discourse, as if he thou