birches, a realm prodigal of trees, o'ercanopied with green leaves until
the sun had ado to send his rays downward, carpeted with brown moss and
emerald grasses, thicketed with a rich undergrowth of bryony and
clematis, prickly holly and golden furze, and a host of minor shrubs,
while some parts of the forest were so dense that, as Camden says, the
entangled branches of the thickly-set trees "were so twisted together,
that they hardly left room for a person to pass."

Here were innumerable hiding-places for the forest outlaws when hunted
too closely by their foes. They lacked not food; the forest was filled
with grazing deer and antlered stags. There was also abundance of
smaller game,--the hare, the coney, the roe; and of birds,--the
partridge, pheasant, woodcock, mallard, and heron. Fuel could be had in
profusion when fire was needed. For winter shelter there were many
caverns, for Sherwood forest is remarkable for its number of such places
of refuge, some made by nature, others excavated by man.

Happy must have been the life in this greenwood realm, jolly the outlaws
who danced and sang beneath its shades, merry as the day was long their
hearts while summer ruled the year, while even in drear winter they had
their caverns of refuge, their roaring wood-fires, and the spoils of the
year's forays to carry them through the season of cold and storm. A
follower of bold Robin might truly sing, with Shakespeare,--

"Under the greenwood tree,
Who loves to lie with me,
And tune his merry note
Unto the sweet bird's throat,
Come hither, come hither, come hither:
Here shall he see