one and then at another, banging them with a long hooked stick he held, and making them run squealing in all directions. "What are you knocking our tigs about for?" cried the boy sharply, as he stared hard at the strange visitor to the forest, his eyes looking greedily at the little fellow's purple and white jerkin and his cap with a little white feather in it.
"They were coming to bite me," said Robin quickly, while it struck him as funny that the boy should knock the pigs about himself.
"What are you doing here?" said the boy.
Robin told of his misfortune, and finished by saying:
"I'm so hungry, and I want to go home. Where can I get some breakfast?"
"Dunno," said the boy. "Have some of these?"
He took a handful of acorns from a dirty satchel, and held them out, Robin catching at them eagerly, putting one between his white teeth, and biting it, but only to make a face full of disgust.
"It's bitter," he said. "It's not good to eat."
"Makes our tigs fat," said the boy; "look at 'em."
"But I'm not a pig," said Robin. "I want some bread and milk. Where can I get some?"
The boy shook his head.
"Where do you live?" asked Robin.
"Along o' master."
"Where's that?"
The boy shook his head and stared at the cap and feather, one of his hands opening and shutting.
"Will you show me the way home, then?"
The boy shook his head again, and now stared at the velvet jerkin, then at his own garb, which consisted of a piece of sack with slits in it for his head and arms to come through, and a strip of cow-skin for a belt to hold it in.
"I could show you where to get something," he said at last.
"Well, show me," cried Robin.
"You give me that jacket and cap, then," cried the boy, in a husky, low voice.
"Give you my clothes?" said Robin, wonderingly. "I can't do that."
"Then I shall take 'em?" said the boy, in a husky growl.
"I'm so hungry," cried Robin. "Show me where to get something, and I'll give you my cap and feather."
"I wants the jacket too," said the boy.
"I tell you I can't give you that," cried Robin.
"Then I means to take it."
Robin shrank away, and the boy turned upon him fiercely.
"None of that," he cried. "See this here stick? If you was to try to run away I should send it spinning after you, and it would break your legs and knock you down, and I could send the tigs after you, and they'd soon bring you back."
Robin drew a deep breath; he felt hot, and his hands clenched as he longed to strike out at his tyrant. But the young swineherd was big and strong, and the little fellow knew that he could do next to nothing against such an enemy.
Then there was a pause. Robin stood, hot, excited, and panting; the herd-boy threw himself down on his chest, rested his chin upon his hands, as he stared fiercely at Robin, and kicked his feet up and down; while the pigs roamed here and there, nuzzling the fallen acorns out from the bracken, and crunching them up loudly.
Robin wanted to run, and he did not want to run, and all at the same time, for his strongest desire just then was to fight his tyrant; and for some minutes neither spoke.
At last the big boy said, in a low, growling way:
"Now then, are you going to give me them things?"
"No," said Robin, through his set teeth; and again there was silence.
"You give 'em to me, and I'll show you the way to where they live and they'll give you roast deer and roast pig p'raps, for two of ourn's gone. Master says he counted 'em, and they aren't all there, and he wales me with a strap because I let them take the pigs, and next time he counts 'em there's more than there was before, but he's whipped me all the same. You give me them things, and I'll take you where you'll get lots to eat, and milk and eggs and apples. D'yer hear?"
"I won't give them to you. I can't--I mustn't," cried Robin passionately.
The boy said nothing, but looked away at his pigs, two of which were fighting.
"Ah, would you?" he cried; and he made believe to rush at them with his big hook-handled stick.
Robin was thrown off his guard, and before he was aware of it the boy made a side leap and, dropping his stick, seized him, threw him over on his back, and sat astride upon his chest.
"Now won't you give em to me?" cried the herd-boy; and he whipped off the cap and threw it to a little distance, with the result that half a dozen pigs rushed at it; and as he
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