The knight said no more, though his eyes twinkled; and the shooting began.
David of Doncaster shot first and landed safely through the rose garland. Then came Allan-a-Dale and Little John and Stutely and Scarlet and many of the rest, while the knight held his breath from very amazement. Each fellow shot truly through the garland, until Middle the tinker—not to be outdone—stepped up for a trial. But alas! while he made a fair shot for a townsman, the arrow never came within a hand-breath of the outer rim of the garland.
“Come hither, fellow,” said Little John coaxingly. “The priest would bless thee with his open hand.”
Then because Middle made a wry face, as though he had already received the buffet, and loitered in his steps, Arthur-a-Bland and Will Stutely seized him by the arms and stood him before the friar. Tuck’s big arm flashed through the air—“whoof!” and stopped suddenly against the tinker’s ear; while Middle himself went rolling over and over on the grass. He was stopped by a small bush, and up he sat, thrusting his head through it, rubbing his ear and blinking up at the sky as though the stars had fallen and struck him. The yeomen roared with merriment, and as for the knight, he laughed till the tears came out of his blue eyes and rolled down his face.
After Middle’s mishap, others of the band seemed to lose their balance, and fared in the same fashion. The garland would topple over in a most impish way at every breath, although the arrows went through it. So Middle ‘gan to feel better when he saw this one and that one tumbling on the sward.
At last came Robin’s turn. He shot carefully, but as ill luck would have it the shaft was ill-feathered and swerved sidewise so that it missed the garland by full three fingers. Then a great roar went up from the whole company; for ‘twas rare that they saw their leader miss his mark. Robin flung his bow upon the ground from very vexation.
“A murrain take it!” quoth he. “The arrow was sadly winged. I felt the poor feather upon it as it left my fingers!”
Then suddenly seizing his bow again, he sped three shafts as fast as he could sent them, and every one went clean through the garland.
“By Saint George!” muttered the knight. “Never before saw I such shooting in all Christendom!”
The band cheered heartily at these last shots; but Will Scarlet came up gravely to Robin.