Robin Hood and the Golden Arrow (Campfire Story)

The SHERIFF of Nottingham was the greediest, meanest man in all of England. He taxed the poor until they had nothing left, and what he hated most in the world was ROBIN HOOD, who kept taking the money back and giving it to the people.

The SHERIFF had tried everything to catch Robin. He'd sent soldiers into Sherwood Forest, and they'd come back with their boots full of mud and their pants full of arrows. He'd put up WANTED posters, and the Merry Men had drawn mustaches on all of them. So he came up with a new plan.

'I'll hold an archery contest,' he said, rubbing his hands together. 'The prize will be an arrow of solid gold. ROBIN HOOD thinks he's the best archer in England. He won't be able to stay away. And when he shows up, we'll grab him!'

News of the contest reached Sherwood Forest. 'It's a trap, Robin,' said Little John. 'Everybody knows it's a trap.'

'Of course it's a trap,' said Robin, with a twinkle in his eye. 'But a golden arrow, John. A golden arrow!'

So on the day of the contest, Robin put on a ragged red cloak and a patch over one eye, rubbed dirt on his face, and walked into Nottingham as a poor wandering beggar. The Merry Men came too, dressed as farmers and tinkers and millers, and spread out through the crowd.

The SHERIFF sat high on a platform, watching every archer for a man dressed in green. But there wasn't a single green cloak in sight. 'He's too scared to come!' the Sheriff sneered.

The contest began. The target was set far down the field, so far that it looked as small as a dinner plate. One by one, the best archers in England stepped up and shot. Some hit the edge. Some hit the second ring. A big soldier named Gilbert hit the very center. BULLSEYE! The crowd roared.

Then the ragged beggar with the eyepatch shuffled up. People laughed. 'Go home, old man!' But the beggar just lifted his bow, drew back, and let fly. BULLSEYE! Right next to Gilbert's arrow.

So they moved the target back, farther than any archer had ever shot. Gilbert stepped up, took a long, careful breath, and fired. BULLSEYE! Dead center again. The crowd went wild. Surely nobody could beat that.

The beggar stepped up. He drew his bowstring all the way back to his ear. He waited. The whole crowd held its breath. And he let go.

His arrow flew down the field, struck the end of Gilbert's arrow, and split it right down the middle, from the feathers to the point, and stuck in the very center of the target. BULLSEYE!

For a moment, the whole field was silent. Then the crowd went crazy. The SHERIFF himself, with a sour face, handed the golden arrow to the dirty old beggar. 'You're a fine archer, old man. Better even than that scoundrel Robin Hood, who was too much of a coward to show his face.'

The beggar bowed low, and limped away into the crowd, and out of town, and was gone.

That night, the SHERIFF was eating his dinner when an arrow came flying through his window and stuck, thunk, in the table right in front of his plate. Tied to it was a note.

'Thank you for the golden arrow, Sheriff. The beggar sends his regards. Signed, ROBIN HOOD.'

The SHERIFF was so angry he fell right off his chair. And out in Sherwood Forest, the Merry Men laughed so loudly that they say you could hear it all the way to Nottingham.

Storyteller tips: slow way down for the last shot, and let the silence hang before the BULLSEYE. A great story for an archery range night or a troop shooting-sports weekend.

Based on the ballad "Robin Hood and the Golden Arrow" (Child Ballad 152) and the archery match in the Gest of Robyn Hode.