Folklore -- England; Robin Hood (Legendary character) -- Legends
But of all this Robin knew not a whit; so he whistled merrily as he
trudged along the road beyond Stanton, with his heart as free from care
as the yolk of an egg is from cobwebs. At last he came to where a
little stream spread across the road in a shallow sheet, tinkling and
sparkling as it fretted over its bed of golden gravel. Here Robin
stopped, being athirst, and, kneeling down, he made a cup of the palms
of his hands, and began to drink. On either side of the road, for a long
distance, stood tangled thickets of bushes and young trees, and it
pleased Robin's heart to hear the little birds singing therein, for it
made him think of Sherwood, and it seemed as though it had been a
lifetime since he had breathed the air of the woodlands. But of a
sudden, as he thus stooped, drinking, something hissed past his ear, and
struck with a splash into the gravel and water beside him. Quick as a
wink Robin sprang to his feet, and, at one bound, crossed the stream and
the roadside, and plunged headlong into the thicket, without looking
around, for he knew right well that that which had hissed so venomously
beside his ear was a gray goose shaft, and that to tarry so much as a
moment meant death. Even as he leaped into the thicket six more arrows
rattled among the branches after him, one of which pierced his doublet,
and would have struck deeply into his side but for the tough coat of
steel that he wore. Then up the road came riding some of the King's men
at headlong speed. They leaped from their horses and plunged
straightway into the thicket after Robin. But Robin knew the ground
better than they did, so crawling here, stooping there, and, anon,
running across some little open, he soon left them far behind, coming
out, at last, upon another road about eight hundred paces distant from
the one he had left. Here he stood for a moment, listening to the
distant shouts of the seven men as they beat up and down in the thickets
like hounds that had lost the scent of the quarry. Then, buckling his
belt more tightly around his waist, he ran fleetly down the road toward
the eastward and Sherwood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account