don. He had one son also named Robert, but people
called him Robin. He was a favorite with every one. Tall, strong,
handsome, and full of fun, he kept his father's house bright with
songs and laughter. He was brave and fearless too, and there was no
better archer in all the countryside. And with it all he was gentle
and tender, never hurting the weak nor scorning the poor.

But Robert of Huntingdon had a bitter enemy. One day this enemy came
with many soldiers behind him, determined to kill the earl and take
all his goods and lands. There was a fierce and terrible fight, but
in the end Robert and all his men were killed. His house was burned
to the ground and all his money stolen. Only Robin was saved, because
he was such a splendid archer that no soldier would go near him,
either to kill him or take him prisoner. He fought bravely till the
last, but when he saw that his father was dead and his home in
flames, he had no heart to fight any longer. So taking his bow and
arrows, he fled to the great forest of Sherwood.

Very fast he had to run, for Prince John's men were close behind him.
Soon he reached the edge of the forest, but he did not stop there.
On and on he went, plunging deeper and deeper under the shadow of the
trees. At last he threw himself down beneath a great oak, burying his
face in the cool, green grass.

His heart felt hot and bitter. He was full of rage and fierce thoughts
of revenge. Cruel men in one day had robbed him of everything. His
father, his home, servants, cattle, land, money, his name even, all
were gone. He was bruised, hungry, and weary. Yet as he lay pressing
his face against the cool, green grass, and clutching the soft, damp
moss with his hands, it was not sorrow or pain he felt, but only a
bitter longing for revenge.

[Illustration: ROBIN HOOD IN AN ENCOUNTER.]

The great, solemn trees waved gently overhead in the summer breeze,
the setting sun sent shafts of golden light into the cool, blue
shadows, birds sang their evening songs, deer rustled softly through
the underwood, and bright-eyed squirrels leaped noiselessly from
branch to branch. Everywhere there was calm and peace except in poor
Robin's angry heart.

Robin loved the forest. He loved the sights and scents, and the sounds
and deep silences of it. He felt as if it were a tender mother who
opened her wide arms to him. Soon it comforted him, and at last the
tears came hot and fast, and sobs shook him as he lay on the grass