HOW  ROBIN           HOOD            MET   LITTLE            JOHN

All that    summer        Robin Hood  and     his       merry men    roamed         in         Sherwood Forest,           and     the      fame  of        their   deeds ran      abroad          in         the      land.   The Sheriff           of Nottingham        waxed            wroth at        the      report,           but      all        his traps  and     excursions    failed to        catch  the      outlaws.        The     poor   people began            by       fearing           them, but      when they found   that    the      men    in Lincoln           green who    answered     Robin Hood’s           horn   meant them            no harm, but      despoiled      the      oppressor     to        relieve           the      oppressed,   they    ‘gan to        have   great  liking  for      them. And    the      band  increased      by       other  stout hearts            till by the      end     of        the      summer        fourscore      good  men    and     true had     sworn            fealty.

But           the      days   of        quiet  which came  on       grew  irksome         to        Robin’s adventurous spirit.            Up       rose    he,      one     gay     morn, and     slung  his       quiver over   his       shoulders.

“This        fresh  breeze           stirs    the      blood,            my      lads,” quoth he,      “and   I would            be seeing      what  the      gay     world looks  like      in         the      direction       of Nottingham town. But tarry       ye        behind           in         the      borders         of        the forest,            within            earshot          of        my      bugle  call.”

Thus         saying            he       strode            merrily          forward        to        the      edge   of the      wood,            and     paused there           a          moment,       his       agile   form   erect, his brown           locks   flowing          and     his       brown eyes  watching       the      road;  and     a goodly           sight   he       made,            as        the      wind   blew   the ruddy     color  into     his cheeks.

The           highway        led      clear   in         the      direction       of        the      town, and thither           he       boldly directed       his       steps. But      at        a          bend  in         the road   he       knew  of        a          by-path         leading across         a          brook which made the way    nearer           and     less     open, into     which he turned.    As        he       approached the stream           he       saw     that    it          had     become         swollen          by recent      rains   into quite  a          pretty            torrent.         The     log      foot-bridge  was     still      there, but at this end     of        it          a          puddle           intervened   which could  be       crossed          only    with a          leap,   if you would            not      get      your   feet     wet.

But           Robin cared little    for      such   a          handicap.     Taking            a          running start,  his nimble    legs     carried           him     easily  over   and     balanced       neatly upon  the      end     of        the broad     log.     But      he       was     no       sooner           started across            than   he       saw     a          tall      stranger coming     from   the      other  side. Thereupon   Robin quickened    his       pace,  and     the stranger            did      likewise, each   thinking         to        cross  first.   Midway         they    met,   and neither  would yield   an       inch.

“Give       way,   fellow!”         roared           Robin,            whose            leadership    of        a band, I           am      afraid, had   not      tended           to        mend his       manners.

The          stranger        smiled.           He       was     almost           a          head   taller  than   the     other.

“Nay,”     he       retorted,       “fair    and     softly!            I           give    way    only    to        a better            man    than myself.”

“Give       way,   I           say”,   repeated       Robin,            “or      I           shall    have   to show  you     a          better man.”

His            opponent     budged          not      an       inch,   but      laughed         loudly. “Now by       my halidom!”          he       said     good-naturedly,     “I         would            not move after   hearing          that speech,            even   if          minded          to        it          before; for      this     better            man    I           have   sought           my      life long.       Therefore show  him     to        me,     an       it          please            you.”

“That       will      I           right   soon,”            quoth Robin.            “Stay  you     here   a          little while, till        I cut    me      a          cudgel            like      unto   that    you     have   been   twiddling in         your   fingers.”        So saying      he       sought           his       own    bank   again  with    a leap,   laid     aside  his       long    bow    and arrows, and     cut      him     a          stout  staff    of oak,    straight,        knotless,       and     a          good  six       feet in            length.           But      still it          was     a          full      foot    shorter          than   his       opponent’s. Then   back came    he boldly.

“I   mind  not      telling             you,    fellow,”         said     he,      “that  a          bout   with archery         would have  been   an       easier way    with    me.     But      there  are      other tunes  in         England         besides that the      arrow sings.”            Here   he       whirred         the staff    about his       head   by       way    of practice.  “So     make  you     ready for      the tune   I           am      about to        play    upon  your   ribs. Have     at        you!   One,   two—”

“Three!” roared           the      giant   smiting          at        him     instantly.

Well         was     it          for      Robin that    he       was     quick  and     nimble           of foot;   for      the      blow that      grazed           a          hair’s  breadth         from   his       shoulder would            have   felled  an       ox. Nevertheless     while  swerving       to        avoid  this stroke,           Robin was     poising           for      his own,        and     back   came  he forthwith—whack!

Whack!   parried          the      other.

Whack!   whack!          whack!          whack!

The           fight   waxed            fast     and     furious.         It         was     strength        pitted against           subtlety, and           the      match            was     a          merry one.    The     mighty blows of        the      stranger        went whistling        around          Robin’s          ducking head, while  his       own    swift   undercuts     were fain      to        give    the      other  an attack            of        indigestion.  Yet      each   stood firmly in         his place       not      moving backward     or        forward        a          foot    for      a          good  half     hour,  nor thinking of crying “Enough!”    though          some  chance           blow   seemed         likely  to knock       one or        the      other  off       the      narrow          foot-bridge. The     giant’s            face    was getting red, and     his       breath           came  snorting        forth  like      a          bull’s. He stepped         forward        with    a furious       onslaught     to        finish  this     audacious fellow.           Robin dodged          his       blows lightly,           then   sprang           in         swiftly and     unexpectedly           and     dealt   the      stranger        such   a blow           upon  the short  ribs     that    you     would            have   sworn            the      tanner           was     trimming down his       hides  for      market.

The           stranger        reeled            and     came  within            an       ace      of        falling, but      regained       his footing    right   quickly.

“By           my      life,     you     can     hit       hard!”            he       gasped           forth, giving back   a          blow   almost while           he       was     yet      staggering.

This          blow   was     a          lucky  one.    It         caught           Robin off       his       guard. His      stick    had rested    a          moment        while  he       looked           to        see      the giant   topple            into     the      water,            when down came  the      other  upon  his head, whack!          Robin saw     more  stars   in         that    one moment           than   all        the astronomers            have   since   discovered,  and     forthwith      he dropped  neatly            into the      stream.

The     cool    rushing          current          quickly           brought         him     to        his       senses,            howbeit        he was           still      so        dazed that    he       groped          blindly           for            the      swaying         reeds  to        pull     himself up    on       the      bank. His      assailant            could  not      forbear          laughing        heartily          at        his       plight, but    was     also            quick  to        lend    his       aid.     He       thrust down his       long    staff    to        Robin crying,           “Lay    hold    of        that,   an       your   fists     whirl  not      so        much as        your            head!”

Robin       laid     hold    and     was     hauled           to        dry      land    for      all        the world like      a          fish, except  that    the      fish     would            never have   come  forth  so wet     and     dripping.       He       lay upon       the      warm bank   for      a          space to regain            his       senses.           Then   he       sat       up       and gravely  rubbed          his pate.

“By           all        the      saints!”          said     he,      “you   hit       full      stoutly.          My head   hums  like      a          hive of           bees   on       a          summer        morning.”

Then        he       seized            his       horn,  which lay       near,  and     blew   thereon three  shrill   notes that    echoed          against           the      trees. A         moment        of silence           ensued,         and     then   was     heard the     rustling          of        leaves            and crackling       of        twigs  like      the      coming          of        many men;  and forth      from   the glade  burst  a          score  or        two     of        stalwart         yeomen,       all        clad    in Lincoln green,            like      Robin,            with    good  Will     Stutely           and     the      widow’s three  sons at          their   head.

“Good     master,”        cried   Will     Stutely,          “how  is         this?   In        sooth there  is not      a          dry thread    on       your   body.”

“Why,      marry,”         replied           Robin,            “this   fellow            would            not      let me      pass    the footbridge,       and     when I           tickled            him     in         the      ribs,    he must   needs answer          by       a          pat on            the      head   which landed           me overboard.”

“Then      shall    he       taste   some  of        his       own    porridge,”    quoth Will.    “Seize him, lads!”

“Nay,       let       him     go       free,” said     Robin.            “The   fight   was     a          fair      one and     I           abide  by it.   I           surmise         you     also     are      quits?”           he continued,    turning          to        the      stranger        with    a twinkling   eye.

“I   am      content,”      said     the      other, “for    verily  you     now    have   the      best    end of        the cudgel.   Wherefore,  I           like      you     well,   and     would            fain     know your name.”

“Why,”    said     Robin,            “my    men    and     even   the      Sheriff           of Nottingham know me as Robin Hood, the      outlaw.”

“Then      am      I           right   sorry  that    I           beat    you,”  exclaimed     the      man,  “for I           was     on my            way    to        seek    you     and     to        try       to        join     your merry company.     But      after   my unmannerly      use      of        the      cudgel,          I           fear we      are      still      strangers.”

“Nay,       never say      it!”      cried   Robin,            “I         am      glad    I           fell      in         with you;    though, sooth         to        say,     I           did      all        the      falling!”

And          amid   a          general          laugh  the      two     men    clasped          hands,           and in         that    clasp   the strong    friendship     of        a          lifetime          was     begun.

“But         you     have   not      yet      told     us        your   name,”          said     Robin,     bethinking    himself.

“Whence            I           came, men    call      me      John   Little.”

“Enter      our     company      then,  John   Little;  enter  and     welcome.      The     rites    are few,    the      fee      is         large. We      ask      your   whole            mind  and     body  and heart  even   unto death.”

“I  give    the      bond, upon  my      life,”   said     the      tall      man.

Thereupon         Will     Stutely,          who    loved  a          good  jest,    spoke up       and said:   “The infant  in         our     household    must   be       christened,   and     I’ll        stand godfather.    This     fair little        stranger        is         so        small  of        bone  and     sinew, that    his       old      name is         not      to        the purpose.”         Here   he       paused          long enough          to        fill        a          horn   in         the      stream.          “Hark ye, my           son,”—standing        on       tiptoe to        splash            the      water on       the      giant—“take            your new name    on       entering        the      forest.            I           christen         you     Little   John.” At this     jest     the      men    roared           long    and     loud.

“Give       him     a          bow,  and     find     a          full      sheath           of        arrows           for Little   John,”            said Robin    joyfully.         “Can   you     shoot as        well    as        fence  with the      staff,  my      friend?” “I    have   hit       an       ash      twig    at        forty   yards,”          said Little   John.

Thus         chatting         pleasantly     the      band  turned           back   into     the      woodland and sought   their   secluded       dell,    where            the      trees   were  the      thickest,        the moss  was     the softest,  and     a          secret             path   led      to        a          cave,  at once   a          retreat           and     a          stronghold.  Here under  a          mighty           oak     they found the      rest     of        the      band, some  of        whom            had     come in         with    a brace of        fat       does.  And    here   they    built    a          ruddy fire      and     sat       down to the meat       and     ale,     Robin Hood  in         the      center            with    Will     Stutely           on the      one     hand  and Little      John   on       the      other.            And    Robin was     right   well pleased          with    the      day’s adventure,    even   though          he       had     got      a drubbing;     for      sore    ribs     and     heads will heal,       and     ‘tis       not      every day     that one     can     find     a          recruit           as        stout  of        bone  and     true of           soul    as Little   John.