It was a very strange life for a boy who had been
accustomed to every comfort, but young Robin enjoyed
it, for everything seemed to be so new and fresh,
and the men treated him as if he had come to them
for the purpose of being made into a pet.
They were, of course, fierce outlaws and robbers,
ready to turn their bows and swords against anyone;
but the poor people who lived in and about the forest
liked and helped them, for Robin Hood’s men
never did them harm, while as to young Robin, they
were all eager to take him out with them and show
him the wonders of the forest.
On the second day after his arrival in the camp, the
boy asked when he was to be shown the way home, and
he asked again on the third day, but only to be told
each time that he should go soon.
On the fourth day he forgot to ask, for he was busy
with big Little John, who smiled with satisfaction
when young Robin chose to stay with him instead of
going with some of the men into the forest after a
deer.
Young Robin forgot to ask when he was to be shown
the way home, because Little John had promised to
make him a bow and arrows and to teach him how to
use them. The great tall outlaw kept his word
too, and long before evening he hung a cap upon a broken
bough of an oak tree and set young Robin to work about
twenty yards away shooting arrows at the mark.
“You’ve got to hit that every time you
shoot,” said Little John; “and when you
can do that at twenty yards you have got to do it at
forty. Now begin.”
For the bow was ready and made of a piece of yew,
and half a dozen arrows had been finished.
“Think you can hit it?” said Little John,
after showing the boy how to string his bow and fit
the notch of the arrow to the string.
“Oh! yes,” said Robin confidently.
“That’s right! then you will soon be able
to kill a deer.”
“But I don’t want to kill a deer,”
said the boy. “I want to see some, but
I shouldn’t like to kill one.”
“Wait till you’re hungry, my fine fellow,”
said Little John, laughing. “But my word!
you look fine this morning; just like one of us.
Did Maid Marian make you that green jerkin?”
“Yes,” said the boy.
“That’s right; so’s your cap and
feather. But now then, try if you can hit the
cap. Draw the arrow right to the head before
you let it go. My word, what funny little fumbling
fingers yours are!”
“Are they?” cried Robin, who thought that
his teacher’s hands were the biggest he had
ever seen.
“Like babies’ fingers,” said Little
John, smiling down at the boy as if very much amused.
“Now then, draw right to the head.”
“I can’t,” said the boy; “it’s
so hard.”
“That’s because you are not used to it,
little one. Try again. Hold tight, and
pull hard. Steadily. That’s the way.
Now loose it and let it go.”
