Nottingham, homeward for Blyth. His way led, all in the dewy morn, past
the verge of Sherwood Forest, where the birds were welcoming the lovely
day with a great and merry jubilee. Across the Tanner's shoulders was
slung his stout quarterstaff, ever near enough to him to be gripped
quickly, and on his head was a cap of doubled cowhide, so tough that it
could hardly be cloven even by a broadsword.

"Now," quoth Arthur a Bland to himself, when he had come to that part of
the road that cut through a corner of the forest, "no doubt at this time
of year the dun deer are coming from the forest depths nigher to the
open meadow lands. Mayhap I may chance to catch a sight of the dainty
brown darlings thus early in the morn." For there was nothing he loved
better than to look upon a tripping herd of deer, even when he could not
tickle their ribs with a clothyard shaft. Accordingly, quitting the
path, he went peeping this way and that through the underbrush, spying
now here and now there, with all the wiles of a master of woodcraft, and
of one who had more than once donned a doublet of Lincoln green.

Now as Little John stepped blithely along, thinking of nothing but of
such things as the sweetness of the hawthorn buds that bedecked the
hedgerows, or gazing upward at the lark, that, springing from the dewy
grass, hung aloft on quivering wings in the yellow sunlight, pouring
forth its song that fell like a falling star from the sky, his luck led
him away from the highway, not far from the spot where Arthur a Bland
was peeping this way and that through the leaves of the thickets.
Hearing a rustling of the branches, Little John stopped and presently
caught sight of the brown cowhide cap of the Tanner moving among the
bushes.

"I do much wonder," quoth Little John to himself, "what yon knave is