Now the Sheriff of Nottingham swore that he himself would
bring this knave Robin Hood to justice, and for two reasons:
first, because he wanted the two hundred pounds, and next,
because the
forester that Robin Hood had killed was of kin to him.
But Robin Hood lay
hidden in Sherwood Forest for one year,
and in that time there gathered around him many others like himself,
cast out from other folk for this cause and for that.
Some had shot deer in hungry wintertime, when they could get
no other food, and had been seen in the act by the
foresters,
but had escaped, thus saving their ears; some had been turned
out of their
inheritance, that their farms might be added
to the King's lands in Sherwood Forest; some had been despoiled
by a great baron or a rich abbot or a powerful esquire--
all, for one cause or another, had come to Sherwood to escape
wrong and oppression.
So, in all that year, fivescore or more good stout yeomen gathered
about Robin Hood, and chose him to be their leader and chief.
Then they vowed that even as they themselves had been despoiled they
would despoil their oppressors, whether baron, abbot,
knight, or squire,
and that from each they would take that which had been wrung from
the poor by
unjust taxes, or land rents, or in wrongful fines.
But to the poor folk they would give a helping hand in need and trouble,
and would return to them that which had been
unjustly taken from them.
Besides this, they swore never to harm a child nor to wrong a woman,
be she maid, wife, or widow; so that, after a while, when the people
began to find that no harm was meant to them, but that money or food
came in time of want to many a poor family, they came to praise Robin
and his merry men, and to tell many tales of him and of his doings
in Sherwood Forest, for they felt him to be one of themselves.
Up rose Robin Hood one merry morn when all the birds were singing blithely
among the leaves, and up rose all his merry men, each fellow washing his head
and hands in the cold brown brook that leaped laughing from stone to stone.
Then said Robin, "For fourteen days have we seen no sport, so now I
will go
abroad to seek adventures
forthwith. But tarry ye, my merry
men all, here in the
greenwood; only see that ye mind well my call.
Three blasts upon the bugle horn I will blow in my hour of need;
then come quickly, for I shall want your aid."
So
saying, he
strode away through the leafy forest glades until he had
come to the verge of Sherwood. There he wandered for a long time,
through
highway and byway, through dingly dell and forest skirts.
Now he met a fair buxom lass in a shady lane, and each gave the other
a merry word and passed their way; now he saw a fair lady upon an
ambling pad, to whom he doffed his cap, and who bowed sedately in return
to the fair youth; now he saw a fat monk on a pannier-laden ass;
now a
gallantknight, with spear and
shield and armor that flashed
brightly in the
sunlight; now a page clad in
crimson; and now a stout
burgher from good Nottingham Town, pacing along with serious footsteps;
all these sights he saw, but adventure found he none. At last he took
a road by the forest skirts, a bypath that dipped toward a broad,
pebbly
stream spanned by a narrow
bridge made of a log of wood. As he drew
nigh this
bridge he saw a tall stranger coming from the other side.
Thereupon Robin quickened his pace, as did the stranger likewise,
each thinking to cross first.
"Now stand thou back," quoth Robin, "and let the better man cross first."
"Nay," answered the stranger, "then stand back shine own self,
for the better man, I wet, am I."
"That will we
presently see," quoth Robin, "and
meanwhile stand thou
where thou art, or else, by the bright brow of Saint AElfrida, I will show
thee right good Nottingham play with a clothyard shaft betwixt thy ribs."
"Now," quoth the stranger, "I will tan thy hide till it be as many colors
as a beggar's cloak, if thou darest so much as touch a string of that same bow
that thou holdest in thy hands."
"Thou pratest like an ass," said Robin, "for I could send this
shaft clean through thy proud heart before a curtal friar could
say grace over a roast goose at Michaelmastide."
"And thou pratest like a coward," answered the stranger,
"for thou standest there with a good yew bow to shoot at my heart,
while I have
nought in my hand but a plain blackthorn staff
wherewith to meet thee."
"Now," quoth Robin, "by the faith of my heart, never have I had a coward's
name in all my life before. I will lay by my
trusty bow and eke my arrows,
and if thou darest abide my coming, I will go and cut a
cudgel to test
thy
manhood withal."
"Ay, marry, that will I abide thy coming, and
joyously, too,"
quoth the stranger;
whereupon he leaned sturdily upon his staff
to await Robin.
Then Robin Hood stepped quickly to the coverside and cut a good
staff of ground oak, straight, without new, and six feet in length,
and came back trimming away the tender stems from it, while the stranger
waited for him, leaning upon his staff, and whistling as he gazed
round about. Robin observed him furtively as he trimmed his staff,
measuring him from top to toe from out the corner of his eye,
and thought that he had never seen a lustier or a stouter man.
Tall was Robin, but taller was the stranger by a head and a neck,
for he was seven feet in
height. Broad was Robin across the shoulders,
but broader was the stranger by twice the
breadth of a palm,
while he measured at least an ell around the waist.
"Nevertheless," said Robin to himself, "I will baste thy hide right merrily,
my good fellow"; then, aloud, "Lo, here is my good staff, lusty and tough.
Now wait my coming, an thou darest, and meet me an thou fearest not.
Then we will fight until one or the other of us tumble into the
streamby dint of blows."
"Marry, that meeteth my whole heart!" cried the stranger,
twirling his staff above his head, betwixt his fingers and thumb,
until it whistled again.
Never did the Knights of Arthur's Round Table meet in a stouter
fight than did these two. In a moment Robin stepped quickly
upon the
bridge where the stranger stood; first he made a feint,
and then delivered a blow at the stranger's head that, had it
met its mark, would have tumbled him
speedily into the water.
But the stranger turned the blow right
deftly and in return gave
one as stout, which Robin also turned as the stranger had done.
So they stood, each in his place, neither moving a finger's-
breadth back,
for one good hour, and many blows were given and received by each in
that time, till here and there were sore bones and bumps, yet neither
thought of crying "Enough," nor seemed likely to fall from off the
bridge.
Now and then they stopped to rest, and each thought that he never
had seen in all his life before such a hand at quarterstaff.
At last Robin gave the stranger a blow upon the ribs that made his jacket
smoke like a damp straw
thatch in the sun. So
shrewd was the stroke
that the stranger came within a hair's-
breadth of falling off the
bridge,
but he regained himself right quickly and, by a dexterous blow,
gave Robin a crack on the crown that caused the blood to flow.
Then Robin grew mad with anger and smote with all his might at the other.
But the stranger warded the blow and once again thwacked Robin,
and this time so fairly that he fell heels over head into the water,
as the queen pin falls in a game of bowls.
"And where art thou now, my good lad?" shouted the stranger,
roaring with laughter.
"Oh, in the flood and floating adown with the tide," cried Robin,
nor could he
forbear laughing himself at his sorry plight.
Then, gaining his feet, he waded to the bank, the little fish
speeding
hither and t
hither, all frightened at his splashing.
"Give me thy hand," cried he, when he had reached the bank.
"I must needs own thou art a brave and a
sturdy soul and, withal,
a good stout stroke with the
cudgels. By this and by that,
my head hummeth like to a hive of bees on a hot June day."
Then he clapped his horn to his lips and winded a blast
that went echoing
sweetly down the forest paths. "Ay, marry,"
quoth he again, "thou art a tall lad, and eke a brave one,
for ne'er, I bow, is there a man betwixt here and Canterbury Town
could do the like to me that thou hast done."
"And thou," quoth the stranger, laughing, "takest thy
cudgeling
like a brave heart and a stout yeoman."
But now the distant twigs and branches rustled with the coming of men,
and suddenly a score or two of good stout yeomen, all clad in Lincoln green,
burst from out the
covert, with merry Will Stutely at their head.
"Good master," cried Will, "how is this? Truly thou art all wet
from head to foot, and that to the very skin."
"Why, marry," answered jolly Robin, "yon stout fellow hath tumbled me
neck and crop into the water and hath given me a drubbing beside."
"Then shall he not go without a ducking and eke a drubbing himself!"
cried Will Stutely. "Have at him, lads!"
Then Will and a score of yeomen leaped upon the stranger,
but though they
sprang quickly they found him ready and felt
him strike right and left with his stout staff, so that,
though he went down with press of numbers, some of them rubbed
cracked crowns before he was overcome.
"Nay,
forbear!" cried Robin, laughing until his sore sides ached again.
"He is a right good man and true, and no harm shall
befall him.
Now hark ye, good youth, wilt thou stay with me and be one of my band?
Three suits of Lincoln green shalt thou have each year, beside forty
marks in fee, and share with us
whatsoever good shall
befall us.
Thou shalt eat sweet
venison and quaff the stoutest ale, and mine own
good
right-hand man shalt thou be, for never did I see such a
cudgel player
in all my life before. Speak! Wilt thou be one of my good merry men?"
"That know I not," quoth the stranger surlily, for he was angry at being
so tumbled about. "If ye handle yew bow and apple shaft no better than ye
do oaken
cudgel, I wot ye are not fit to be called yeomen in my country;
but if there be any man here that can shoot a better shaft than I,
then will I
bethink me of joining with you."
"Now by my faith," said Robin, "thou art a right saucy varlet, sirrah;
yet I will stoop to thee as I never stooped to man before.
Good Stutely, cut thou a fair white piece of bark four fingers
in
breadth, and set it
fourscore yards distant on yonder oak.
Now, stranger, hit that fairly with a gray goose shaft and call
thyself an archer."
"Ay, marry, that will I," answered he. "Give me a good stout bow
and a fair broad arrow, and if I hit it not, strip me and beat me
blue with bowstrings."
Then he chose the stoutest bow among them all, next to Robin's own,
and a straight gray goose shaft, well-feathered and smooth,
and stepping to the mark--while all the band, sitting or lying
upon the greensward, watched to see him shoot--he drew the arrow
to his cheek and loosed the shaft right
deftly, sending it so
straight down the path that it clove the mark in the very center.
"Aha!" cried he, "mend thou that if thou canst"; while even
the yeomen clapped their hands at so fair a shot.
"That is a keen shot indeed," quoth Robin. "Mend it I cannot,
but mar it I may, perhaps."
Then
taking up his own good stout bow and nocking an arrow with care,
he shot with his very greatest skill. Straight flew the arrow, and so true
that it lit fairly upon the stranger's shaft and split it into splinters.
Then all the yeomen leaped to their feet and shouted for joy that their
master had shot so well.
"Now by the lusty yew bow of good Saint Withold," cried the stranger,
"that is a shot indeed, and never saw I the like in all my life before!
Now truly will I be thy man
henceforth and for aye. Good Adam Bell[1]
was a fair shot, but never shot he so!"
[1] Adam Bell, Clym o' the Clough, and William of Cloudesly
were three noted north-country bowmen whose names have been
celebrated in many ballads of the olden time.
"Then have I gained a right good man this day," quoth jolly Robin. "What name
goest thou by, good fellow?"
"Men call me John Little
whence I came," answered the stranger.
Then Will Stutely, who loved a good jest, spoke up.
"Nay, fair little stranger," said he, "I like not thy name
and fain would I have it
otherwise. Little art thou indeed,
and small of bone and sinew,
therefore shalt thou be christened
Little John, and I will be thy godfather."
Then Robin Hood and all his band laughed aloud until the stranger