stranger waited for him, leaning upon his staff, and whistling as he gazed round about. Robin observed him furtively as he trimmed his staff, measuring him from top to toe from out the corner of his eye, and thought that he had never seen a lustier or a stouter man. Tall was Robin, but taller was the stranger by a head and a neck, for he was seven feet in height. Broad was Robin across the shoulders, but broader was the stranger by twice the breadth of a palm, while he measured at least an ell around the waist.
“Nevertheless,” said Robin to himself, “I will baste thy hide right merrily, my good fellow;” then, aloud, “Lo, here is my good staff, lusty and tough. Now wait my coming, an thou darest, and meet me, an thou fearest not; then we will fight until one or the other of us tumble into the stream by dint of blows.”
“Marry, that meeteth my whole heart!” cried the stranger, twirling his staff above his head, betwixt his fingers and thumb, until it whistled again.
Never did the Knights of Arthur’s Round Table meet in a stouter fight than did these two. In a moment Robin stepped quickly upon the bridge where the stranger stood; first he made a feint, and then delivered a blow at the stranger’s head that, had it met its mark, would have tumbled him speedily into the water; but the stranger turned the blow right deftly, and in return gave one as stout, which Robin also turned as the stranger had done. So they stood, each in his place, neither moving a finger’s breadth back, for one good hour, and many blows were given and received by each in that time, till here and there were sore bones and bumps, yet neither thought of crying “Enough,” or seemed likely to fall from off the bridge. Now and then they stopped to rest, and each thought that he never had seen in all his life before such a hand at quarterstaff. At last Robin gave the stranger a blow upon the ribs that made his jacket smoke like a damp straw thatch in the sun. So shrewd was the stroke that the stranger came within a hair’s breadth of falling off the bridge; but he regained himself right quickly, and, by a dexterous blow, gave Robin a crack on the crown that caused the blood to flow. Then Robin grew mad with anger, and smote with all his might at the other; but the stranger warded the blow, and once again thwacked Robin, and this time so fairly that he fell heels over head into the water, as the queen pin falls in a game of bowls.
Telling of the merry bout betwixt Robin Hood and the tall stranger.
“And where art thou now, good lad?” shouted the stranger, roaring with laughter.
The stranger overcometh merry Robin.
“Oh, in the flood and floating adown with the tide,” cried Robin; nor could he forbear laughing himself at his sorry plight. Then, gaining his feet, he waded to the bank, the little fish speeding hither and thither, all frightened at his splashing.
“Give me thy hand,” cried he, when he had reached the bank. “I must needs own thou art a brave and a sturdy soul, and, withal, a good stout stroke with the cudgels. By this and by that, my head hummeth like to a hive of bees on a hot June day.”
Then he clapped his horn to his lips, and winded a blast that went echoing sweetly down the forest paths. “Ay, marry,” quoth he again, “thou art a tall lad, and eke a brave one, for ne’er, I trow, is there a man betwixt here and Canterbury Town could do the like to me that thou has done.”
“And thou,” quoth the stranger, laughing, “takest thy cudgelling like a brave heart and a stout yeoman.”
But now the distant twigs and branches rustled with the coming of men, and suddenly a score or two of good stout yeomen, all clad in Lincoln green, burst from out the covert, with merry Will Stutely at their head.
“Good master,” cried Will, “how is this? Truly thou art all wet from head to foot, and that to the very skin.”
“Why, marry,” answered jolly Robin, “yon stout fellow hath tumbled me neck and crop into the water, and hath given me a drubbing beside.”
“Then shall he not go without a ducking and eke a drubbing himself!” cried Will Stutely. “Have at him, lads!”