Robin reached for his hunting horn and blew a loud blast, then urged his horse towards the opposite bank. He quickly jumped down and began to fight his way up the steep wet slope. Suddenly he caught a glimpse of Lincoln Green.
“Scarlet,” he thought, “and Little John, just in time!”
Several foresters plunged into the stream as the arrows began to fly. Scathelok crawled to Robin’s side with a spare bow. But the foresters had started to retreat. The Sheriff picked up a bow and arrow and fired it blindly towards the outlaws then rushed towards a horse.
Meanwhile Friar Tuck was sitting up wondering what had caused the egg-like bump on his head. Then he let out a piercing whistle and a great mastiff bounded after the escaping Sheriff. Quickly the hound leapt at De Lacy and brought him down.
“Call off your dog friar!” said Robin as he reached the side of the priest. “He has shown the Sheriff enough sport. Now it’s our turn to do his lordship honour.”
Stutely, stripped to the waist, looked in disbelief as the outlaws brought the Sheriff of Nottingham into the camp.
“They’ve brought in the big buck himself,” he chuckled, “must have given them a massive appetite.”
He lifted a hunk of venison out of the fire and went to greet the returning men.
“You had good hunting, Master Robin?” He asked.
“Aye,” said Robin. “A lordly guest has condescended to grace our table.”
Little John smiled all over his bearded face as he led Sheriff De Lacy, blindfolded over to the rough table loaded with roast game, huge flagons of ale, black bread and cheese.
Robin helped himself to a healthy chunk of meat and sat down. Scarlet and little John helped the blindfolded prisoner to a seat at the foot of the table and whipped the bandage from his eyes. De Lacy blinked and stared around the angry faces.
“Scarlet,” he thought, “and Little John, just in time!”
Several foresters plunged into the stream as the arrows began to fly. Scathelok crawled to Robin’s side with a spare bow. But the foresters had started to retreat. The Sheriff picked up a bow and arrow and fired it blindly towards the outlaws then rushed towards a horse.
Meanwhile Friar Tuck was sitting up wondering what had caused the egg-like bump on his head. Then he let out a piercing whistle and a great mastiff bounded after the escaping Sheriff. Quickly the hound leapt at De Lacy and brought him down.
“Call off your dog friar!” said Robin as he reached the side of the priest. “He has shown the Sheriff enough sport. Now it’s our turn to do his lordship honour.”
Stutely, stripped to the waist, looked in disbelief as the outlaws brought the Sheriff of Nottingham into the camp.
“They’ve brought in the big buck himself,” he chuckled, “must have given them a massive appetite.”
He lifted a hunk of venison out of the fire and went to greet the returning men.
“You had good hunting, Master Robin?” He asked.
“Aye,” said Robin. “A lordly guest has condescended to grace our table.”
Little John smiled all over his bearded face as he led Sheriff De Lacy, blindfolded over to the rough table loaded with roast game, huge flagons of ale, black bread and cheese.
Robin helped himself to a healthy chunk of meat and sat down. Scarlet and little John helped the blindfolded prisoner to a seat at the foot of the table and whipped the bandage from his eyes. De Lacy blinked and stared around the angry faces.
(To read earlier sections of the story, please click on the label "Story" in the right hand column.)