They passed it from hand to hand, tried but in vain to bend it, and murmured among themselves that the thing was impossible.
"What will you have for your mark," Cacama asked.
"One of these targets will do well enough," he said, pointing to those at which the Mexicans had been shooting.
These were boards about five feet six in height, and some fourteen inches in width, presenting the size of a man.

They were painted white and supported by a leg hinged behind them.

The distance at which the Mexicans had been shooting was about forty yards.
Roger stepped a hundred from one of them, and made a mark upon the ground.
"An English archer would laugh at a target like that," he said to Cacama, "but it is nigh three years since I practiced.

I have seen men who could with certainty, at this distance, hit a bird the size of a pigeon sitting on the top of that target, twenty times in succession, and think it by no means extraordinary shooting." The queen and some of her ladies now appeared upon a terrace looking down into the courtyard.

Roger took the bow, fitted an arrow to the string, and drew it to his ear--a murmur of astonishment rising from the Aztecs.