One of the best-known stories of this picturesque figure of early English times is that given by Sir Walter Scott in “Ivanhoe,” concerning the archery contest during the rule or misrule of Prince John, in the absence of Richard from the kingdom.  Robin Hood, under the assumed name of Locksley, boldly presents himself at a royal tournament at Ashby, as competitor for the prize in shooting with the long-bow.  From the eight or ten archers who enter the contest, the number finally narrows down to two,—­ Hubert, a forester in the service of one of the king’s nobles, and Locksley or Robin Hood.  Hubert takes the first shot in the final trial of skill, and lands his arrow within the inner ring of the target, but not exactly in the centre.

“‘You have not allowed for the wind, Hubert,’ said Locksley, ’or that had been a better shot.’

“So saying, and without showing the least anxiety to pause upon his aim, Locksley stepped to the appointed station, and shot his arrow as carelessly in appearance as if he had not even looked at the mark.  He was speaking almost at the instant that the shaft left the bow-string, yet it alighted in the target two inches nearer to the white spot which marked the centre than that of Hubert.

“‘By the light of Heaven!’ said Prince John to Hubert, ’an thou suffer that runagate knave to overcome thee, thou art worthy of the gallows!’

“Hubert had but one set speech for all occasions.  ’An your highness were to hang me,’ he said, ’a man can but do his best.  Nevertheless, my grandsire drew a good bow—­’

“‘The foul fiend on thy grandsire and all his generation!’ interrupted John; ’shoot, knave, and shoot thy best, or it shall be worse for thee!’

“Thus exhorted, Hubert resumed his place, and not neglecting the caution which he had received from his adversary, he made the necessary allowance for a very light air of wind, which had just risen, and shot so successfully that his arrow alighted in the very centre of the target.

“‘A Hubert! a Hubert!’ shouted the populace, more interested in a known person than in a stranger.  ’In the clout!—­in the clout!—­a Hubert forever!’

“‘Thou canst not mend that shot, Locksley,’ said the Prince, with an insulting smile.

“‘I will notch his shaft for him, however,’ replied Locksley.

“And letting fly his arrow with a little more precaution than before, it lighted right upon that of his competitor, which it split to shivers.  The people who stood around were so astonished at his wonderful dexterity, that they could not even give vent to their surprise in their usual clamor.  ’This must be the devil, and no man of flesh and blood,’ whispered the yeomen to each other; ’such archery was never seen since a bow was first bent in Britain.’

“‘And now,’ said Locksley, ’I will crave your Grace’s permission to plant such a mark as is used in the North Country; and welcome every brave yeoman who shall try a shot at it to win a smile from the bonny lass he loves best.’”