The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood
silver that Little John and the Cook had brought with them.
Then the Sheriff's heart was bitter within him; but, not daring to say
anything, he only gazed upon the ground. Robin looked keenly at him for
a time before he spoke again. Then said he, "Now, Master Sheriff, the
last time thou camest to Sherwood Forest thou didst come seeking to
despoil a poor spendthrift, and thou wert despoiled thine own self; but
now thou comest seeking to do no harm, nor do I know that thou hast
despoiled any man. I take my tithes from fat priests and lordly squires,
to help those that they despoil and to raise up those that they bow
down; but I know not that thou hast tenants of thine own whom thou hast
wronged in any way. Therefore, take thou thine own again, nor will I
dispossess thee today of so much as one farthing. Come with me, and I
will lead thee from the forest back to thine own party again."
Then, slinging the bag upon his shoulder, he turned away, the Sheriff
following him, all too perplexed in mind to speak. So they went forward
until they came to within a furlong of the spot where the Sheriff's
companions were waiting for him. Then Robin Hood gave the sack of silver
back to the Sheriff. "Take thou thine own again," he said, "and hearken
to me, good Sheriff, take thou a piece of advice with it. Try thy
servants well ere thou dost engage them again so readily." Then,
turning, he left the other standing bewildered, with the sack in his
hands.
The company that waited for the Sheriff were all amazed to see him come
out of the forest bearing a heavy sack upon his shoulders; but though
they questioned him, he answered never a word, acting like one who walks
in a dream. Without a word, he placed the bag across his nag's back and
then, mounting, rode away, all following him; but all the time there was
a great turmoil of thoughts within his head, tumbling one over the
other. And thus ends the merry tale of Little John and how he entered
the Sheriff's service.
Little John and the Tanner of Blyth
ONE FINE DAY, not long after Little John had left abiding with the
Sheriff and had come back, with his worship's cook, to the merry
greenwood, as has just been told, Robin Hood and a few chosen fellows of
his band lay upon the soft sward beneath the greenwood tree where they
dwelled. The day was warm and sultry, so that while most of the band
were scattered through the forest upon this mission and upon that, these
few stout fellows lay lazily beneath the shade of the tree, in the soft
afternoon, passing jests among themselves and telling merry stories,
with laughter and mirth.
All the air was laden with the bitter fragrance of the May, and all the
bosky shades of the woodlands beyond rang with the sweet song of birds--
the throstle cock, the cuckoo, and the wood pigeon--and with the song of
birds mingled the cool sound of the gurgling brook that leaped out of
the forest shades, and ran fretting amid its rough, gray stones across
the sunlit open glade before the trysting tree. And a fair sight was
that halfscore of tall, stout yeomen, all clad in Lincoln green, lying
beneath the broad-spreading branches of the great oak tree, amid the
quivering leaves of which the sunlight shivered and fell in dancing
patches upon the grass.
Suddenly Robin Hood smote his knee.
"By Saint Dunstan," quoth he, "I had nigh forgot that quarter-day cometh
on apace, and yet no cloth of Lincoln green in all our store. It must be
looked to, and that in quick season. Come, busk thee, Little John!
Stir those lazy bones of thine, for thou must get thee straightway to
our good gossip, the draper Hugh Longshanks of Ancaster. Bid him send
us straightway twentyscore yards of fair cloth of Lincoln green; and
mayhap the journey may take some of the fat from off thy bones, that
thou hast gotten from lazy living at our dear Sheriff's."
"Nay," muttered Little John (for he had heard so much upon this score
that he was sore upon the point), "nay, truly, mayhap I have more flesh
upon my joints than I once had, yet, flesh or no flesh, I doubt not that
I could still hold my place and footing upon a narrow bridge against
e'er a yeoman in Sherwood, or Nottinghamshire, for the matter of that,
even though he had no more fat about his bones than thou hast, good
master."
At this reply a great shout of laughter went up, and all looked at Robin
Hood, for each man knew that Little John spake of a certain fight that
happened between their master and himself, through which they first
became acquainted.
"Nay," quoth Robin Hood, laughing louder than all. "Heaven forbid that
I should doubt thee, for I care for no taste of thy staff myself, Little
John. I must needs own that there are those of my band can handle a
seven-foot staff more deftly than I; yet no man in all Nottinghamshire
can draw gray goose shaft with my fingers. Nevertheless, a journey to
Ancaster may not be ill for thee; so go thou, as I bid, and thou hadst
best go this very evening, for since thou hast abided at the Sheriff's
many know thy face, and if thou goest in broad daylight, thou mayst get
thyself into a coil with some of his worship's men-at-arms. Bide thou
here till I bring thee money to pay our good Hugh. I warrant he hath no
better customers in all Nottinghamshire than we." So saying, Robin left
them and entered the forest.
Not far from the trysting tree was a great rock in which a chamber had
been hewn, the entrance being barred by a massive oaken door two
palms'-breadth in thickness, studded about with spikes, and fastened with a
great padlock. This was the treasure house of the band, and thither
Robin Hood went and, unlocking the door, entered the chamber, from which
he brought forth a bag of gold which he gave to Little John, to pay Hugh
Longshanks withal, for the cloth of Lincoln green.
Then up got Little John, and, taking the bag of gold, which he thrust
into his bosom, he strapped a girdle about his loins, took a stout
pikestaff full seven feet long in his hand, and set forth upon his
journey.
So he strode whistling along the leafy forest path that led to Fosse
Way, turning neither to the right hand nor the left, until at last he
came to where the path branched, leading on the one hand onward to Fosse
Way, and on the other, as well Little John knew, to the merry Blue Boar
Inn. Here Little John suddenly ceased whistling and stopped in the
middle of the path. First he looked up and then he looked down, and
then, tilting his cap over one eye, he slowly scratched the back part of
his head. For thus it was: at the sight of these two roads, two voices
began to alarum within him, the one crying, "There lies the road to the
Blue Boar Inn, a can of brown October, and a merry night with sweet
companions such as thou mayst find there"; the other, "There lies the
way to Ancaster and the duty thou art sent upon." Now the first of these
two voices was far the louder, for Little John had grown passing fond of
good living through abiding at the Sheriff's house; so, presently,
looking up into the blue sky, across which bright clouds were sailing
like silver boats, and swallows skimming in circling flight, quoth he,
"I fear me it will rain this evening, so I'll e'en stop at the Blue Boar
till it passes by, for I know my good master would not have me wet to
the skin." So, without more ado, off he strode down the path that lay
the way of his likings. Now there was no sign of any foul weather, but
when one wishes to do a thing, as Little John did, one finds no lack of
reasons for the doing.
Four merry wags were at the Blue Boar Inn; a butcher, a beggar, and two
barefoot friars. Little John heard them singing from afar, as he walked
through the hush of the mellow twilight that was now falling over hill
and dale. Right glad were they to welcome such a merry blade as Little
John. Fresh cans of ale were brought, and with jest and song and merry
tales the hours slipped away on fleeting wings. None thought of time or
tide till the night was so far gone that Little John put by the thought
of setting forth upon his journey again that night, and so bided at the
Blue Boar Inn until the morrow.
Now it was an ill piece of luck for Little John that he left his duty
for his pleasure, and he paid a great score for it, as we are all apt to
do in the same case, as you shall see.
Up he rose at the dawn of the next day, and, taking his stout pikestaff
in his hand, he set forth upon his journey once more, as though he would
make up for lost time.
In the good town of Blyth there lived a stout tanner, celebrated far and
near for feats of strength and many tough bouts at wrestling and the
quarterstaff. For five years he had held the mid-country champion belt
for wrestling, till the great Adam o' Lincoln cast him in the ring and
broke one of his ribs; but at quarterstaff he had never yet met his
match in all the country about. Besides all this, he dearly loved the
longbow, and a sly jaunt in the forest when the moon was full and the
dun deer in season; so that the King's rangers kept a shrewd eye upon
him and his doings, for Arthur a Bland's house was apt to have aplenty
of meat in it that was more like venison than the law allowed.
Now Arthur had been to Nottingham Town the day before Little John set
forth on his errand, there to sell a halfscore of tanned cowhides. At
the dawn of the same day that Little John left the inn, he started from
Nottingham, homeward for Blyth. His way led, all in the dewy morn, past
the verge of Sherwood Forest, where the birds were welcoming the lovely
day with a great and merry jubilee. Across the Tanner's shoulders was
slung his stout quarterstaff, ever near enough to him to be gripped
quickly, and on his head was a cap of doubled cowhide, so tough that it
could hardly be cloven even by a broadsword.
"Now," quoth Arthur a Bland to himself, when he had come to that part of
the road that cut through a corner of the forest, "no doubt at this time
of year the dun deer are coming from the forest depths nigher to the
open meadow lands. Mayhap I may chance to catch a sight of the dainty
brown darlings thus early in the morn." For there was nothing he loved
better than to look upon a tripping herd of deer, even when he could not
tickle their ribs with a clothyard shaft. Accordingly, quitting the
path, he went peeping this way and that through the underbrush, spying
now here and now there, with all the wiles of a master of woodcraft, and
of one who had more than once donned a doublet of Lincoln green.
Now as Little John stepped blithely along, thinking of nothing but of
such things as the sweetness of the hawthorn buds that bedecked the
hedgerows, or gazing upward at the lark, that, springing from the dewy
grass, hung aloft on quivering wings in the yellow sunlight, pouring
forth its song that fell like a falling star from the sky, his luck led
him away from the highway, not far from the spot where Arthur a Bland
was peeping this way and that through the leaves of the thickets.
Hearing a rustling of the branches, Little John stopped and presently
caught sight of the brown cowhide cap of the Tanner moving among the
bushes.
"I do much wonder," quoth Little John to himself, "what yon knave is
after, that he should go thus peeping and peering about I verily believe
that yon scurvy varlet is no better than a thief, and cometh here after
our own and the good King's dun deer." For by much roving in the forest,
Little John had come to look upon all the deer in Sherwood as belonging
to Robin Hood and his band as much as to good King Harry. "Nay," quoth
he again, after a time, "this matter must e'en be looked into." So,
quitting the highroad, he also entered the thickets, and began spying
around after stout Arthur a Bland.