Young Robin Hood, George Manville Fenn [book reader for pc txt] 📗

track leading across the forest; but he had not gone far before he found himself in an open glade, dotted with beautiful great oak trees, and nearly covered with the broad leaves of the bracken, which were agitated by something passing through and beneath, giving forth a grunting sound. Directly after he caught sight of a long black back, then of others, and he saw that he was close to a drove of small black pigs, hunting for acorns. One of the pigs found him at the same moment and saluted him with a sharp, barking sound wonderfully like that of a dog.

This was taken up directly by the other members of the drove, who with a great deal of barking and grunting came on to the attack, for they did not confine themselves to threatening, their life in the forest making them fierce enough to be dangerous.

Robin's first thought was to run away, but he knew that four legs are better than two for getting over the ground, and felt that the drove would attack him more fiercely if they saw that he was afraid.

His next idea was to climb 'up into the fork of one of the big trees, but he knew that there was not time. So he obeyed his third notion, which was to jump to where a big piece of dead wood lay, pick it up, and hit the foremost pig across the nose with it.

That blow did wonders; it made the black pig which received it utter a dismal squeal, and its companions stop and stand barking and snapping all around him. But the blow broke the piece of dead wood in two, and the fierce little animals were coming on again, when a voice cried:

"Hi! you! knocking our tigs about!" And a rough boy about a couple of years older than Robin rushed into the middle of the herd, kicking first at one and then at another, banging them with a long hooked stick he held, and making them run squealing in all directions. "What are you knocking our tigs about for?" cried the boy sharply, as he stared hard at the strange visitor to the forest, his eyes looking greedily at the little fellow's purple and white jerkin and his cap with a little white feather in it.

"They were coming to bite me," said Robin quickly, while it struck him as funny that the boy should knock the pigs about himself.

"What are you doing here?" said the boy.

Robin told of his misfortune, and finished by saying:

"I'm so hungry, and I want to go home. Where can I get some breakfast?"

"Dunno," said the boy. "Have some of these?"

He took a handful of acorns from a dirty satchel, and held them out, Robin catching at them eagerly, putting one between his white teeth, and biting it, but only to make a face full of disgust.

"It's bitter," he said. "It's not good to eat."

"Makes our tigs fat," said the boy; "look at 'em."

"But I'm not a pig," said Robin. "I want some bread and milk.
Where can I get some?"

The boy shook his head.

"Where do you live?" asked Robin.

"Along o' master."

"Where's that?"

The boy shook his head and stared at the cap and feather, one of his hands opening and shutting.

"Will you show me the way home, then?"

The boy shook his head again, and now stared at the velvet jerkin, then at his own garb, which consisted of a piece of sack with slits in it for his head and arms to come through, and a strip of cow-skin for a belt to hold it in.

"I could show you where to get something," he said at last.

"Well, show me," cried Robin.

"You give me that jacket and cap, then," cried the boy, in a husky, low voice.

"Give you my clothes?" said Robin, wonderingly. "I can't do that."

"Then I shall take 'em?" said the boy, in a husky growl.

"I'm so hungry," cried Robin. "Show me where to get something, and
I'll give you my cap and feather."

"I wants the jacket too," said the boy.

"I tell you I can't give you that," cried Robin.

"Then I means to take it."

Robin shrank away, and the boy turned upon him fiercely.

"None of that," he cried. "See this here stick? If you was to try to run away I should send it spinning after you, and it would break your legs and knock you down, and I could send the tigs after you, and they'd soon bring you back."

Robin drew a deep breath; he felt hot, and his hands clenched as he longed to strike out at his tyrant. But the young swineherd was big and strong, and the little fellow knew that he could do next to nothing against such an enemy.

Then there was a pause. Robin stood, hot, excited, and panting; the herd-boy threw himself down on his chest, rested his chin upon his hands, as he stared fiercely at Robin, and kicked his feet up and down; while the pigs roamed here and there, nuzzling the fallen acorns out from the bracken, and crunching them up loudly.

Robin wanted to run, and he did not want to run, and all at the same time, for his strongest desire just then was to fight his tyrant; and for some minutes neither spoke.

At last the big boy said, in a low, growling way:

"Now then, are you going to give me them things?"

"No," said Robin, through his set teeth; and again there was silence.

"You give 'em to me, and I'll show you the way to where they live and they'll give you roast deer and roast pig p'raps, for two of ourn's gone. Master says he counted 'em, and they aren't all there, and he wales me with a strap because I let them take the pigs, and next time he counts 'em there's more than there was before, but he's whipped me all the same. You give me them things, and I'll take you where you'll get lots to eat, and milk and eggs and apples. D'yer hear?"

"I won't give them to you. I can't—I mustn't," cried Robin passionately.

The boy said nothing, but looked away at his pigs, two of which were fighting.

"Ah, would you?" he cried; and he made believe to rush at them with his big hook-handled stick.

Robin was thrown off his guard, and before he was aware of it the boy made a side leap and, dropping his stick, seized him, threw him over on his back, and sat astride upon his chest.

"Now won't you give em to me?" cried the herd-boy; and he whipped off the cap and threw it to a little distance, with the result that half a dozen pigs rushed at it; and as he made a brave fight to get rid of his enemy, the last that Robin saw of his velvet cap and plume was that one black pig tore out the feather, while another was champing the velvet in his mouth.

It was a brave fight, but all in vain, and a few minutes later the boy was standing triumphantly over poor Robin, with the gay jerkin rolled up under his arm; and the little fellow struggled to his feet in his trunk hose and white linen shirt, hot, angry, and torn, and wishing with all his might that he were as big and strong as the tyrant who had mastered him.

"I told yer I would," said the young ruffian, with a grin. "You should ha' given 'em to me at first, and then I shouldn't have hurt yer. Come on; I'll show yer now where yer can get something to eat."

In his anger and shame Robin felt that he wanted no food now, only to go and hide himself away among the trees; but his enemy's next words had their effect.

"You didn't want this here," he said. "You've got plenty on you now. Better nor I have. There, go straight on there, and I'll show yer. D'yer hear?"

"I don't want to go now," said Robin fiercely.

"Oh, don't yer? Then I do. You're agoing afore I makes yer, and when they've give yer a lot, you're going to eat part and bring some to me so's I can help eat the rest. You bring a lot, mind, 'cause I can eat ever so much. Now then, go on."

"I can't—I don't want to," cried Robin. "You go first."

"What, and master come, p'raps, and find me gone! Likely! he'd give me the strap again. There, get on."

Robin winced, for the young ruffian picked up his stick and poked him as he would one of his pigs. But the little fellow could not help himself, and he went on in the required direction among the trees, the forest growing darker and darker, till suddenly voices were heard, and the boy stopped,

"You go straight along there," he said, "and I'll wait."

"No, you go," said Robin. "You know them."

"Oh! yes, and them want some more pigs! Want me to be leathered again?"

Robin said "No," but he felt all the time that he should like to see the young tyrant flogged and forced to return the folded up doublet; and he thought sadly of his spoiled and lost cap.

CHAPTER III

"Now then, don't you be long," cried the young swineherd, and he raised his stick threateningly, and made another thrust at Robin, which was avoided; and feeling desperate now as well as hungry, feeling too, that it would be better to fall into any other hands, the little fellow ran on, following a faint track in and out among the trees, till he came suddenly into an opening, face to face with a group of fifty or sixty people busily engaged around a heap beneath a spreading beech tree.

Robin's first act was to stand and stare, for the heap consisted of bales similar to those with which he had seen the mules laden a couple of days back, and tied up together a few yards away were the very mules, while the little crowd of men who were busy bore a very strong resemblance to those by whom the attack was made on the previous day.

Robin knew nothing in those days about the old proverb of jumping out of the frying-pan into the fire, but he felt something of the kind as he found himself face to face with the marauders who had seized upon the bales of cloth and put his aunt's servants to flight, and without a moment's hesitation he turned and began to hurry back, but ran into the arms of a huge fellow who caught him up as if he had been a baby.

[Illustration: Robin ran into the arms of a huge fellow, who caught him up as if he had been a baby.]

"Hullo, giant!" cried the big man, "who are you?" And the party of men with him, armed with long bows and arrows, began to laugh merrily.

"Let me go—let me go!" cried the boy, struggling angrily.

"Steady, steady, my little Cock Robin," said the man, in his big bluff way; "don't fight, or you'll ruffle your feathers."

The boy ceased struggling directly.

"How did you know my name was Robin?" he said.

"Guessed it, little one. There, I shan't hurt you. Where do you come from?"

"Ellton," said the boy.

"But what are you doing here in the forest?"

"You came and fought David, and frightened him and the men away, and those are our mules and the cloth."

Robin stopped short, for the big man broke out into a loud whistle, and then laughed.

"Oh, that's it, is it?" he said; "and so your name's Robin, is it?"

The little fellow nodded. "Yes," he said. "What's yours?"

"John," said the great fellow, laughing heartily; "and they call me little because I'm so big. What do you think of that?"

"I think it's very stupid," said the boy. "I thought you must be
Robin Hood."

"Then you thought wrong. But if you thought that this one was you would be right. Here he comes." The boy looked in wonder at a tall man who looked short