Robin, Eleanor
sent him word: "The lion growls; beware of thy head." This hint was
sufficient to make Robin leave immediately, bidding his companions
re-enter the forest by different roads and reserving the most
difficult for himself.

Although Robin's men reached the forest safely, he himself was hotly
pursued by the sheriff's and bishop's troops. Once, when they were so
close on his heels that it seemed impossible for him to escape, Robin
exchanged garments with a cobbler, who was promptly arrested in his
stead and borne off to prison. Such was Robin's exhaustion by this
time that he entered an inn, and, creeping into bed, slept so soundly
that only on awaking on the morrow did he discover he had shared his
bed with a monk. Slyly substituting the cobbler's garments for those
of the sleeping monk, Robin peacefully departed, while the sheriff's
men, having discovered their mistake, proceeded to arrest the false
cobbler! Meantime the Queen succeeded in softening the king's
resentment, so Robin was allowed to rejoin his companions, and his
sweetheart, Maid Marian, who could shoot nearly as well as he.

Many years now elapsed, during which King Henry died and King Richard
came to the throne. Robin, still pursued by the sheriff, once
discovered in the forest a man clad in horse-skin, who, having been an
outlaw too, had been promised his pardon if he would slay Robin.
Hearing him boast about what he would do, Robin challenged him first
to a trial of marksmanship, and then to a bout of sword play, during
which the strange outlaw was slain. Then, donning the fallen man's
strange apparel, Robin went off to Nottingham in quest of more
adventures.

Meantime, Little John had entered a poor hut, where he found a woman
weeping because her sons had been seized as poachers and sentenced to
be hanged. Touched by her grief, Little John promised to rescue them
if she would only supply him with a disguise. Dressed in a suit which
had belonged to the woman's husband, he entered Nottingham just as the
sheriff was escorting his captives to the gallows. No hangman being
available, the sheriff gladly hired the stranger to perform that
office. While ostensibly fastening nooses around the three lads'
necks, Little John cleverly whispered directions whereby to escape.
This part of his duty done, Little John strung his bow, arguing it
would be a humane act to shorten their agony by a well-directed shaft.
But, as soon as his bow was properly st