“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 after, that he should go thus peeping and peering about I verily believe that yon scurvy varlet is no better than a thief, and cometh here after our own and the good King’s dun deer.”  For by much roving in the forest, Little John had come to look upon all the deer in Sherwood as belonging to Robin Hood and his band as much as to good King Harry.  “Nay,” quoth he again, after a time, “this matter must e’en be looked into.”  So, quitting the highroad, he also entered the thickets, and began spying around after stout Arthur a Bland.

So for a long time they both of them went hunting about, Little John after the Tanner, and the Tanner after the deer.  At last Little John trod upon a stick, which snapped under his foot, whereupon, hearing the noise, the Tanner turned quickly and caught sight of the yeoman.  Seeing that the Tanner had spied him out, Little John put a bold face upon the matter.

“Hilloa,” quoth he, “what art thou doing here, thou naughty fellow?  Who art thou that comest ranging Sherwood’s paths?  In very sooth thou hast an evil cast of countenance, and I do think, truly, that thou art no better than a thief, and comest after our good King’s deer.”

“Nay,” quoth the Tanner boldly—­for, though taken by surprise, he was not a man to be frightened by big words—­“thou liest in thy teeth.  I am no thief, but an honest craftsman.  As for my countenance, it is what it is; and, for the matter of that, thine own is none too pretty, thou saucy fellow.”

“Ha!” quoth Little John in a great loud voice, “wouldst thou give me backtalk?  Now I have a great part of a mind to crack thy pate for thee.  I would have thee know, fellow, that I am, as it were, one of the King’s foresters.  Leastwise,” muttered he to himself, “I and my friends do take good care of our good sovereign’s deer.”