Robin Hood by J. Walker McSpadden (big screen ebook reader TXT) 📖

But Robin gave Will the wrong caution, for over-much care spoiled his aim. His first shaft flew wide and lodged in the second ring even further away than the worst shot of Clifton.

“Your pardon, coz!” quoth Robin hastily. “Bid care go to the bottom of the sea, and do you loose your string before it sticks to your fingers!”

And Will profited by this hint, and loosed his next two shafts as freely as though they flew along a Sherwood glade. Each struck upon the bull’s-eye, and one even nearer the center than his rival’s mark. Yet the total score was adjudged in favor of Clifton. At this Will Scarlet bit his lip, but said no word, while the crowd shouted and waved yellow flags for very joy that the King’s man had overcome the outlaw. They knew, also, that this demonstration would please the King.

The target was now cleared for the next two contestants—Geoffrey and Allan-a-Dale. Whereat, it was noticed that many ladies in the Queen’s booths boldly flaunted Allan’s colors, much to the honest pride which glowed in the cheeks of one who sat in their midst.

“In good truth,” said more than one lady to Mistress Dale, “if thy husband can handle the longbow as skilfully as the harp, his rival has little show of winning!”

The saying augured well. Geoffrey had shot many good shafts that day; and indeed had risen from the ranks by virtue of them. But now each of his three shots, though well placed in triangular fashion around the rim of the bull’s-eye, yet allowed an easy space for Allan to graze within. His shooting, moreover, was so prettily done, that he was right heartily applauded—the ladies and their gallants leading in the hand-clapping.

Now you must know that there had long been a friendly rivalry in Robin Hood’s band as to who was the best shot, next after Robin himself. He and Will Stutely had lately decided their marksmanship, and Will had found that Robin’s skill was now so great as to place the leader at the head of all good bowmen in the forest. But the second place lay between Little John and Stutely, and neither wished to yield to the other. So to-day they looked narrowly at their leader to see who should shoot third. Robin read their faces at a glance, and laughing merrily, broke off two straws and held them out.

“The long straw goes next!” he decided; and it fell to Stutely.

Elwyn the Welshman was to precede him; and his score was no whit better than Geoffrey’s. But Stutely failed to profit by it. His besetting sin at archery had ever been an undue haste and carelessness. To-day these were increased by a certain moodiness, that Little John had outranked him. So his first two shafts flew swiftly, one after the other, to lodging places outside the Welshman’s mark.

“Man! man!” cried Robin entreatingly, “you do forget the honor of the Queen, and the credit of Sherwood!”

“I ask your pardon, master!” quoth Will humbly enough, and loosing as he spoke his last shaft. It whistled down the course unerringly and struck in the exact center—the best shot yet made.

Now some shouted for Stutely and some shouted for Elwyn; but Elwyn’s total mark was declared the better. Whereupon the King turned to the Queen. “What say you now?” quoth he in some triumph. “Two out of the three first rounds have gone to my men. Your outlaws will have to shoot better than that in order to save your wager!”

The Queen smiled gently.

“Yea, my lord,” she said. “But the twain who are left are able to do the shooting. You forget that I still have Little John and Robin Hood.”

“And you forget, my lady, that I still have Tepus and Gilbert.”

So each turned again to the lists and awaited the next rounds in silent eagerness. I ween that King Harry had never watched the invasion of an enemy with more anxiety than he now felt.

Tepus was chosen to go next and he fell into the same error with Will Scarlet. He held the string a moment too long, and both his first and second arrows came to grief. One of them, however, came within the black rim, and he followed it up by placing his third in the full center, just as Stutely had done in his last. These two centers were the fairest shots that had been made that day; and loud was the applause which greeted this second one. But the shouting was as nothing to the uproar which followed Little John’s shooting. That good-natured giant seemed determined to outdo Tepus by a tiny margin in each separate shot; for the first and the second shafts grazed his rival’s on the inner side, while for the third Little John did the old trick of the forest: he shot his own arrow in a graceful curve which descended from above upon Tepus’s final center shaft with a glancing blow that drove the other out and left the outlaw’s in its place.

The King could scarce believe his eyes. “By my halidom!” quoth he, “that fellow deserves either a dukedom or a hanging! He must be in league with Satan himself! Never saw I such shooting.”

“The score is tied, my lord,” said the Queen; “we have still to see Gilbert and Robin Hood.”

Gilbert now took his stand and slowly shot his arrows, one after another, into the bull’s-eye. ‘Twas the best shooting he had yet done, but there was still the smallest of spaces left—if you looked closely—at the very center.

“Well done, Gilbert!” spoke up Robin Hood. “You are a foeman worthy of being shot against.” He took his own place as he spoke. “Now if you had placed one of your shafts there”—loosing one of his own—“and another there”—out sped the second—“and another there”—the third was launched—“mayhap the King would have declared you the best bowman in all England!”

But the last part of his merry speech was drowned in the wild tumult of applause which followed his exploit. His first two shafts had packed themselves into the small space left at the bull’s-eye; while his third had split down between them, taking half of each, and making all three appear from a distance, as one immense arrow.

Up rose the King in amazement and anger.

“Gilbert is not yet beaten!” he cried. “Did he not shoot within the mark thrice? And that is allowed a best in all the rules of archery.”

Robin bowed low.

“As it please Your Majesty!” quoth he. “But may I be allowed to place the mark for the second shooting?”

The King waved his hand sullenly.. Thereupon Robin prepared another old trick of the greenwood, and got him a light, peeled willow wand which he set in the ground in place of the target.

“There, friend Gilbert,” called he gaily; “belike you can hit that!”

“I can scarce see it from here,” said Gilbert, “much less hit it. Nathless, for the King’s honor, I will try.”

But this final shot proved his undoing, and his shaft flew harmlessly by the thin white streak.