Sagitta is the third smallest of the modern eighty-eight constellations, and its own article already notes how stable its simple shape has kept it across the history of star-mapping. What that stability conceals is something rarer still: unlike almost every other figure discussed on this site, no tradition on record ever gave Sagitta a different reading.
Ptolemy's Greek Oistos, an arrow, passed into Arabic astronomy as Sahm, again simply an arrow, and into Latin, and later into every European vernacular, as the same plain object without variation. Where Orion becomes a woman in Arabia and a canoe in Arnhem Land, where the Great Bear becomes a bier of mourning daughters or a butchered bull's foreleg, Sagitta's short, unmistakable line of faint stars never picked up a rival identity in any tradition that has left a written or oral record reaching this atlas.
Part of the reason may simply be how little the shape suggests: an arrow is already about as plain and literal a reading as five points of light in a line can support, leaving comparatively little room for a culture to see something else in it the way a sprawling, ambiguous figure like Orion's belt and sword invites competing stories.
Among a whole wave of constellations shown here to mean different things to different peoples, Sagitta is the quiet exception, the one shape everyone who ever named it agreed on.