“When the sports were concluded, this gay forester was unanimously declared the winner of the day, and amid the shouts of the spectators, he was led to the tent, beneath which the sheriff of Nottingham stood to award the golden arrow. The stranger fell upon one knee, and, with much praise of his gallant archery, the prize was delivered to him. He rose, placed the arrow in his belt, and a triumphant smile lighted up his features as, for one moment, he looked at the donor’s face. It was enough, the sheriff caught the glance, and it acted like magic upon him.
“‘Ho! guards, seize him!’ he shouted with his utmost strength. ‘’Tis Robin Hood, the outlawed rebel! Five hundred pounds for his head!’ In a second, the forester had gained the middle of the field, and had blown a long shrill blast upon his horn. At the signal, yeomen flew from every part of the field and ranged themselves around him. The sheriff was astounded, he cried to his men to follow; and, mounting his horse, galloped towards the daring rebels. A flight of arrows met him half way, and his steed fell tumbling to the earth; the rider arose unhurt, but his men had fled on all sides, and he was obliged to follow them.
THE GOLDEN ARROW.
J. Gilbert
“‘Base cowards,’ he cried, ‘ye shall be hung on the highest gibbets in Nottingham;’ and snatching a huge cross-bow from the hands of one of the fugitives, he levelled it at the retreating band and fired. One man dropped; it was the tall forester in the light blue coat.
“At this, the sheriff’s followers took courage, and with a loud shout, dashed onwards in pursuit of the outlaws, who had taken up their wounded companion, and were now full half a mile in advance. Arrows innumerable fell like hailstones on each party, and many of the Nottingham men fell, sorely hurt; but the chase continued, and the sheriff seemed still determined to pursue. For hours did the foresters use their fleetest speed, turning ever and again to discharge their bows, until they were well nigh exhausted. They would have stopped and fought, but the overwhelming numbers that pursued gave them but a poor chance of victory. In this extremity, a young knight, riding upon a grey charger, and attended by several armed horsemen, met them upon the road. Surprised at so unusual a sight, the knight reined up his steed and disposed his men around him, as if to dispute the road. This bold step had well nigh proved his ruin. A hundred arrows were pointed at him, and, at a word, would have pierced through his breast-plate to his heart.
“‘Hold,’ shouted Robin Hood, dropping his bow, ‘’tis Sir Rychard o’ the Lee! ’Tis the good knight of Wierysdale.’ The knight recognised the voice, leaped from his horse, and threw himself into the outlaw’s arms. A few words briefly explained to him the reason of their flight.
“‘To my castle, to my castle,’ he cried; ‘’tis close at hand, and will defy the sheriff of Nottingham, with ten thousand of his men.’ Then vaulting into his saddle, he took the wounded forester, Little John, before him upon his steed, pointed out his fortress to Robin Hood and galloped away.
“The castle of Wierysdale, surrounded on every side by noble trees, stood upon a slight eminence in the middle of an extensive valley. The building itself was of immense strength; it was girded by a lofty stone wall, six feet in thickness, and two ditches of considerable breadth and depth encompassed it. Over these were bridges that could be raised or lowered at pleasure; and a strong iron door was the only way of entrance to the castle.