Chapter III.

Shooting Off A Tie.

One of the everyday occurrences at Bisley is the shooting off of "ties." Where the entries are by thousands, in almost every match a large number of men get exactly the same score, and as there are a limited number of prizes the only way is to shoot off the tie. The most exciting "tie" of all is for the last place or places in the King's Hundred. Sometimes as many as 50 men will tie for the last place. These are told off in twos, to fire at certain targets, the range being 600yds. Each man understands that failure will put him out of the running for this year, perhaps forever. It should he understood that at the targets the highest success, a bull's-eye, is represented by five, and that other results descend to four called a centre, three a magpie, and two an outer (of course there is no one). They fire shot for shot until each has fired seven times; then there is a pause while the range officers sort out the scores. If the weather conditions have been favourable nothing less than 34, or one short of the possible, has a hope. An officer announces, "All those below 34 may retire." Seven men remain on the firing mound, each has made 34; two of these have finished with a four, and are weeded out their score not being considered so good as those that began with four and finished with six fives.

Then the five remaining men each keenly watching a variable wind with one eye and their opponents' movements with the other, fire one shot each; by some freak of fortune each scores a four. Another cartridge is handed all round, this time four men make fives, and one man a four, and the latter has to retire, the remaining four each again get bulls'-eyes. Another round is issued, and the first man gets a four, and he is out of it, his three opponents each getting fives.

Amongst the spectators excitement becomes intense; the actors feel it, yet show no sign. For several rounds in succession each of the three warriors now score bulls'-eyes; in breathless expectation the onlookers wonder whether the record is to be broken. Untrained observers would suppose that first-class shots, having struck the bull so often, could continue to do so. The expert thinks differently, and wonders whom Fortune will frown on first. Down in the heart of each contestant excitement is struggling upwards, but is sternly repressed as fatal to marksmanship.

To reach the struggle is fierce as mortal combat fought in an amphitheatre of old, only that the result does not go to brute strength, or even to skill alone, for even when intelligence is pitted against intelligence there always is the possibility of what goes by the name of luck ruthlessly intervening. The best man may have to fire in an unreadable gust of wind, or he may use a weak cartridge. All this tends to deepen the individual interest of the match.

The general excitement is now at full tension. The rifles again ring out, and two men secure bulls'-eyes, while the third is badly beaten by the wind and gets a magpie and retires.

The expectation is keener than ever when, in the next round, two competitors only being left, the first man gets a 4; he does not therefore disappear, for his one opponent may also stumble, and as this man's shot, when signalled, turns out also to be 4, and they are no "forrader," the spectators are excited beyond measure. A minute is usually allowed for each shot—that is to say, the shot must reach the target within a minute of the notice to shoot, but on a superbly critical occasion such as this, the rule is tacitly and mercifully ignored—that is to say, no one hurries him. Both having got the clue to their previous blundering—namely, a change of wind—each is brilliant in securing a number of bulls'-eyes in succession.

If in ordinary affairs our duty to our neighbour is to "keep our eyes on him," it is emphasised on an occasion when a hair's breadth departure spells failure to page 7 obtain a crowning success; for should ike competitor omit to notice that Jus apponent's last bull's-eye was very much aside, he will not make allowance for a further rising or tanging wind, too imperceptible to ordinary sight or feeling, but fatal (or other vise) to the bullet, and he secures only 4 (a centre). The other will profit by his opponent's sad experience and win a 5, upon which to know what kind of enthusiastic cheers burst forth, nothing but a visit to a big rifle range will suffice. The ovation the second man receives sometimes is hardly even second to that of the winner, for his splendid fight is recognised on all hands.