ohn 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."

"I care not who thou art," answered the bold Tanner, "and unless thou
hast many more of thy kind by thee, thou canst never make Arthur a Bland
cry 'A mercy.'"

"Is it so?" cried Little John in a rage. "Now, by my faith, thou saucy
rogue, thy tongue hath led thee into a pit thou wilt have a sorry time
getting out of; for I will give thee such a drubbing as ne'er hast thou
had in all thy life before. Take thy staff in thy hand, fellow, for I
will not smite an unarmed man.