to the ground. His legs trembled and he broke into a sweat down to his very heels.
The old man laughingly reached out a hand and helped him from the overhanging rock shelf; then he mounted the rock himself and said, "Shall I drive a shot for you?" Kisho, still pale and trembling, noticed that he had no bow and said, "But what about the bow? The bow...?" The old man stood with his pale hands empty. "A bow?" said he smiling. "If
you need a bow, that's simply shooting with bow and arrow. With sufficient schooling of the spirit, you need no lacquered bow, no well-crafted arrow."
Directly overhead, high in the air, a hawk was drawing a great sweeping circle. It looked as small as a sesame seed and for a short while Kanyoh looked up, contemplating it. Then he fitted an invisible arrow to his formless bow, flexed it to the span of a full moon and shot. Behold, without a flutter of a wing, the hawk dropped like a stone from the heights.
Kisho shivered. For the first time he saw and was struck by the unfathomable beauty and depths of Art sublime.
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