Whisk went the staff and then crack as it was received by Robin across his own, and then, profiting by Little John's lessons, he brought his own over from the left and delivered a sounding blow on his assailant's head. The swineherd uttered a savage yell as he staggered back, but came fiercely on again, striking with all his might, but so wildly that Robin easily avoided the blow, and brought his own staff down whack, crash, on his enemy's shoulders, producing a couple more yells of pain. From that moment Robin had it all his own way, for he easily guarded himself from the swineherd's fierce strokes and retorted with swinging blows on first one arm, then on the other. Then he brought his staff down with a blow beside his enemy's left leg, then half behind the right, making him dance and limp as he yelled and sought in vain to beat down his active little adversary, who delivered a shower of cleverly directed blows in response to the wild swoops given with the worst of aim. In the heat and excitement Robin had felt no fear. He was on his mettle, and fighting for liberty, to gain which he felt that he must effectually beat his enemy; and thanks to Little John's lessons he thrashed him so well that at the end of five minutes the young swine-herd received a final stroke across the knuckles which made him shriek, drop his staff, and turn to run down a long straight avenue in the forest where the ground was open. Robin in his excitement began to run after him to continue the beating, but the swineherd went too fast, and on the impulse of the moment the victor stopped short, dropping his own staff and unslinging his bow from where it hung. In less time than it takes to tell the bow was strung and an arrow fitted, drawn to the head, and with a twang it was loosed after the flying lad, now a hundred yards away; but as soon as it was shot Robin repented. "It'll kill him," he thought, and his heart seemed to stand still. For the boy's teacher had taught well, and here was the proof. Truly as if a long careful aim had been taken the arrow sped many times faster than the swineherd ran, and Robin's eyes dilated as he saw his adversary give a sudden spring and fall upon his face, uttering a hideous yell. Robin, full of repentance, started off to his enemy's help, but before he had gone many yards the swineherd sprang up and began to run faster than ever, while when Robin reached the spot there lay his arrow, but the lad was gone. "Only pricked him a bit," said Little John, when he heard of the adventure. "Serve the young wretch right. But the quarter-staff. My word, big un, I'd have given something to have been there to hear his bones rattle. Well, I didn't teach you for naught. But look here, if you meet that fellow in the forest again don't you wait for him to begin; you go at him at once." Robin nodded his head, but he never saw the swineherd again. CHAPTER VII