Young Robin did as he was told, and away went the arrow down between the trees, to fall with its feathered wings just showing above the fallen leaves.

“That didn’t hit the cap,” said Little John.  “Never went near.”

Young Robin shook his head.

“Did you look at the cap when you loosed the arrow?”

“No,” said Robin; “I shut my eyes.”

“Try again then, and keep them open.”

Robin tried and tried again till he had sent off all six of his shafts, and then he stood and looked up at Little John, and Little John looked down at him.

“You couldn’t kill a deer for dinner to-day,” said the big fellow.

“No,” said young Robin; “it’s so hard.  Could you have hit it?”

“I think I could if I stood ten times as far away,” said the great fellow quietly.

“Oh, do try, please,” cried Robin.

“Very well; only let’s pick up your arrows first, or we may lose some of them.  Always pick up your arrows while they are fresh—­I mean, while you can remember where they are.”

The shafts were picked up, mostly by Little John, whose eyes were very sharp at seeing where the little arrows lay; and then they walked back, and Robin had to run by his big companion’s side, for he began to stride away, counting as he went, till he had taken two hundred steps from the tree all along one of the alleys of the forest, when he stopped short.

“Now then, my little bowman,” he said; “think I can hit the mark now?”

“No,” said Robin decisively; “we’re too far away.  I can hardly see the cap.”

“Well, let’s try,” said Little John, stringing his bow, and then carefully selecting an arrow from the quiver at his back.  This arrow he drew two or three times through his hand so as to smooth the feathering and make the web lie straight, before fitting the notch to the string.

“So you think it’s too far?” said Little John.

“Yes, ever so much.”

“Ah, well, we’ll try,” said the big fellow coolly.  “Where-about shall I hit the cap—­in the middle?”

[Illustration:  “Ah, well, we’ll try,” said Little John.  “Whereabouts shall I hit the cap?”]

“No,” said Robin; “just at the top of the brim.”

“Very well,” said the big fellow, standing up very straight and rather sidewise, as he held his bow at his left arm’s length, slowly drew the arrow to the head, and then as Robin gazed in the direction of the indistinctly seen hat hanging on the tree-trunk—­

Twang!

The arrow had been loosed, and the bow had given forth a strange deep musical sound.

Robin looked sharply at Little John, and the big outlaw looked down at him.

“Where did that arrow go?” said the boy.

“Let’s see,” said Little John.

“I don’t think we shall ever find it again,” continued Robin.

They walked back, the outlaw very slowly, and Robin quite fast so as to keep up with him.