Chapter 6. Little John

In his new suit of Lincoln green, Robin strolled round the outlaw camp in Sherwood Forest. He watched his men preparing arrows, refixing bowstrings, and carrying out sundry repairs to their weapons.

“They look as if they are fresh from battle”, mused Robin to himself. “Yet for two weeks little has happened in the way of adventure”.

Robin felt restless about the future. He spoke to Muchthe-Miller’s son, one of the new members of the band.

“It’s all very well to be the leader of so fine a band of men – and the band is still growing – but what’s the use of trained fighting men if you can give them no work to do?”

The burly miller’s son laid his hand on the leader’s arm.

“Don’s worry, master”, he said. “We are contented. After all, this is the life we chose”.

But Robin Hood was restive, athirst for action. “It’s no good waiting here in the forest for adventure to come along. It’s getting dull here. I must go outside and look for something more exciting”.

He set out later in the day, alone. He reminded his men to keep their ears sharpened for the call of his horn should there be trouble. Through the greenwood he wandered, making his way over tangled undergrowth until he came to one of the shady forest paths. Along the path, aimlessly, he walked until he came to a second path that led across the fields to a distant village.

To his left ran a stream, and he followed it for some way as it threaded a wavy course through the fields. Presently he came to a roughly made wooden bridge. He mounted the bridge, but there he came to a sudden halt. Standing at the opposite end of the bridge was a giant of a man. He had started to cross at the same time as the outlaw.

Robin walked along the bridge to where the stranger stood. The giant made no attempt to let him pass. Instead he stood squarely in the middle of the bridge and glared insolently at Robin, as if daring him to try to pass.

Here was a situation that promised some excitement Robin laughed merrily. It was clear that the stranger had no intention of letting him pass. Yet one of them must retreat of before the other could cross – and Robin Hood, leader of the Sherwood Forest outlaws, had no intention of giving way to a stranger, however big he might be.

Robin glanced at her swirling stream below. His mind was made up.

“Let me pass, fellow!” he commanded.

The huge man did not move.

“If you don’t move out of my way, you great oaf, I shall have to move you myself!” cried Robin.

The fellow only grinned. Robin became infuriated. He unslung his bow.

“If you don’t move”, he warned, “I’ll show you how we deal with fellows like you”.

As Robin fitted an arrow to his bow, the giant lumbered forward towards him. Poised in his hands a quarter-staff.

“If you dare pull back the string”, he said, grimly, “I’ll dust the hide off you”.

They were brave words, for Robin, with his bow, had the advantage. Robin could have killed him if he had chosen. There was no denying this great fellow’s courage as he stared scornfully at the threatening bow. Robin admired his spirit. The outlaw backed slightly to the end of the foot-bridge, still with his arrow pointing certain death at the stranger.

“Your talk is foolish”, said he. “I could send an arrow through your heart in quicker time than it would take to tell”.

“You are a coward!” exclaimed the other, with scorn in his voice. “You are armed with bow and arrows; I have only my stout staff”.

“Coward!” laughed Robin. “I like that! I’ll soon show you that I am no coward”.

Robin leapt off the bridge and, going to a nearby oak-tree, sprang at one of the branches. By sheer force he tore it down. Quickly he stripped off the leaves and ran back to the bridge.

In the middle of the middle of the bridge the two men met. They flourished their staves. Robin got in a blow on the giant’s shoulder. Fighting back, the man hit Robin on the head with his staff. The fight grew furious. The two were well matched, matched, for Robin was a practiced fighter, and the stranger was enormously strong.

Robin rained in a shower of blows, thick and fast. The stranger smote back with a will. Then, just as Robin was beginning to think he was getting the upper hand, he missed his footing and fell with a great splash into the brook.

He struggled to the surface. Heavy rains had swollen the stream, and in the middle it was deep.

“Ho! Where are you now, my fine fellow?” laughed the stranger.

Robin spluttered from the water: “I’m in the flood. You proved yourself the better man that time”.

“All right!” answer the other. “So long as you own you’re beaten I’ll let you cross the bridge”.

Robin waded out, lower down the stream. He was muddy and wet. He came up to the stranger, and asked him what his business was and whether he had work to do. The giant shook his head.

“Nobody within miles will give John Little even a day’s work”, he said. “They’re all afraid to employ me. The trouble is that I like to work in my own way. They all want me to work in their way. But nobody ever made John Little do what he didn’t want to do – so it always ended in a fight and I had to wander on, often hungry. I could eat a good meal now!”

While the giant was speaking, Robin had been trying to wash some of the mud from his new suit of Lincoln green.

“Come back with me”, he said, picking up his bow and arrows. “I’ll show you a band of fine fellows who would be glad to give you a good meal”.

He turned back the same way as he had come, the stranger striding after him.

As the two reached Sherwood Forest, Robin grasped his horn and placed it to his lips. His only answer was a stream of dirty water that still lay in the instrument after its soaking in the brook. Robin laughed merrily, and his companion joined in.

Robin shook the horn dry and blew again. Three loud notes rang out through the greenwood. Other horns quickly answered his call, and soon a crowd of men, dressed like himself in Lincoln green, surrounded them.

Robin gazed at them proudly.

“These are my merry men, O John Little”, he said. “And this”, he continued, turning to his men, “is a man who would not let me pass across a bridge this morning, and instead tumbled me into a stream. What shall we do with him?”

“Duck him!” they cried. “Throw him into a stream as you were thrown!”

“No!” answered Robin. “He has proved himself a fighter with a staff. He had far better join us”. He turned to the giant. “Come, join my merry band!” he said. “We have plenty to eat and drink, and as for the work we have to do – well, our work is to ‘right the wrong’! If there is a tyrant anywhere about, or if a man robs the poor, he has to settle with us. There will be plenty of fighting. It is a hard life, but it offers fine sport. What say you?”

John Little was keen to join. The band turned back towards their camp, and when they reached it Robin Hood, winking mischievously said to his merry men: “We shall have to re-christen him!”

The men laughed, and swarmed about John Little, dragging him down to the ground. Will-the-Wrestler suggested a new name.

“He says he’s John Little. Then let us call him ‘Little John’!”

They poured mugfuls of water over the giant, and he became ‘Little John’ from that day forward. They dressed him in their uniform of Lincoln green. They taught him to shoot, and how to use his sword and dagger. He never knew again what it was to be hungry, for Robin Hood and his merry band of outlaws dined richly off the King’s deer, which they shot in their forest-home.

Little John grew steadily in favour with the outlaws. His rough ways were understood by all, and he became a great favourite. Robin often left him in charge of the band while he went off by himself. The men respected the giant, whose strength was enormous, and they were satisfied to have one so brave and strong as their leader when Robin was away.

<== попередня сторінка	\|	наступна сторінка ==>
Chapter 4. Escape from Prison	\|	Chapter 7. The Outlaw Code

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