In the old days, when the Swiss valleys groaned beneath the rule of foreign governors, there lived among the mountains a bold and steadfast hunter named William Tell. None could surpass him with the crossbow, and none loved liberty more dearly.

The cruel bailiff Gessler had set his hat upon a pole in the marketplace and commanded every passer-by to bow before it. Tell, refusing such humiliation, walked past without bending his head. For this act of defiance he was seized and brought before the tyrant.

Knowing Tell’s fame as a marksman, Gessler devised a cruel test. He ordered Tell’s little son, Walter, to stand beneath a tree with a red apple upon his head, and commanded the father to strike the fruit from eighty paces away. Should he fail, both father and son would pay dearly.

Tell hid his anguish beneath a calm face. He raised his crossbow, took careful aim, and loosed the bolt. It flew straight through the air and split the apple, leaving the child unharmed.

Yet Gessler noticed that Tell had carried a second bolt. “For whom was that intended?” he demanded.

“For you,” answered Tell, “had the first arrow harmed my son.”

Enraged, Gessler had him arrested once more. But during the journey across Lake Lucerne, a violent storm arose. Tell escaped, and later waited for the bailiff along a lonely road. There, with one sure shot, he slew Gessler.

Thus the deed of a single brave man became a symbol of resistance, and the people of Switzerland rose against oppression, remembering that no tyrant’s power is greater than the courage of those who refuse to bow.