Chapter Twenty One.

Chapter Twenty One.Glumm gains a Great Private Victory—The Dalesmen assemble to fight for Freedom—The Foe appears, and the Signal of Battle is sounded.Again we return to the mound near Ulfstede, the top of which was now bathed in the rays of the morning sun—for the day had only begun, the events narrated at the end of the last chapter having occurred within a period of less than three hours.Here stood the fair Hilda and the volatile Ada, the former leaning on the arm of the latter, and both gazing intently and in silence on the heart-stirring scene before them. Once again Horlingdal with its fiord was the scene of an assembly of armed men, but this time the concourse was grander, because much greater, than on a previous occasion. Men had learned by recent events that momentous changes were taking place in the land. The news of the King’s acts had been carried far and wide. Everyone felt that a decisive blow was about to be struck somewhere, and although many hundreds had little or no opinion of their own as to what was best for the interests of the kingdom, they knew that a side must be taken, and were quite willing to take that which appeared to be the right, or which seemed most likely to win, while a large proportion of them were intelligently and resolutely opposed to the King’s designs. Thus, when the war-token was sent round, it was answered promptly. Those who dwelt nearest to the place of rendezvous were soon assembled in great numbers, and, from the elevated point on which the girls stood, their glittering masses could be seen on the shore, while they launched their longships and loaded them with stones—the ammunition of those days—or passed briskly to and fro with arms and provisions; while all up the valley, as far as the eye could see, even to the faint blue distance, in the haze of which the glaciers and clouds and mountain tops seemed to commingle, troops of armed men could be seen pouring down from gorge and glen, through wood and furze and fen. On the fiord, too, the same activity and concentration prevailed, though not quite to the same extent. Constantly there swept round the promontories to the north and south, boat after boat, and ship after ship, until the bay close below Ulfstede was crowded with war-craft of every size—their gay sails, and in some cases gilded masts and figureheads, glancing in the sunshine, and their shield-circled gunwales reflected clearly in the sea.“What a grand sight!” exclaimed Ada with enthusiasm, as she listened to the deep-toned hum of the busy multitude below.“Would God I had never seen it!” said her companion.“Out upon thee, Hilda! I scarce deem thee fit to be a free Norse maiden. Such a scene would stir the heart of stone.”“Itdoesstir my heart strangely, sister,” replied Hilda, “I scarcely can explain how. I feel exultation when I see the might of our district, and the bold bearing of our brave and brisk men; but my heart sinks again when I think of what is to come—the blood of men flowing like water, death sweeping them down like grain before the sickle; and for what? Ada, these go not forth to defend us from our enemies, they go to war with brothers and kindred—with Norsemen.”Ada beat her foot impatiently on the sod, and frowned a little as she said—“I know it well enough, but it is a grand sight for all that, and it does no good to peep into the future as thou art doing continually.”“I do not peep,” replied Hilda; “the future stares me full in the face.”“Well, let it stare, sister mine,” said Ada, with a laugh, as she cleared her brow, “and stare pastitsface at what lies before thee at present, which is beautiful enough, thou must allow.”At that moment there seemed to be increasing bustle and energy on the part of the warriors on the shore, and the murmur of their voices grew louder.“What can that mean, I wonder?” said Ada.“Fresh news arrived, perhaps,” replied her friend. “The Christians’ God grant that this war may be averted!”“Amen, if it be His will,” said a deep voice behind the girls, who turned and found the hermit standing at their side. “But, Hilda,” he continued, “God does not always answer our prayers in the way we expect—sometimes because we pray for the wrong thing, and sometimes because we pray that the right thing may come to us in the wrong way. I like best to end my petitions with the words of my dear Saviour Jesus Christ— ‘Thy will be done.’ Just now it would seem as if war were ordained to go on, for a scout has just come in to say that King Harald with his fleet is on the other side of yonder point, and I am sent to fetch thee down to a place of safety without delay.”“Who sent thee?” demanded Ada.“Thy foster-father.”“Methinks we are safe enough here,” she said, with a gesture of impatience.“Aye, if we win the day, but not if we lose it,” said the old man.“Come,” said Hilda, “we must obey our father.”“I have no intention of disobeying him,” retorted the other, tossing her head.Just then Alric ran up with a look of anxiety on his swelled and blood-stained face.“Come, girls, ye are in the way here. Haste—ah! here comes Erling—and Glumm too.”The two young men ran up the hill as he spoke.“Come with us quickly,” cried Erling; “we do not wish the King’s people to see anyone on this mound. Let me lead thee down, Hilda.”He took her by the hand and led her away. Glumm went forward to Ada, whose old spirit was evidently still alive, for she glanced at the hermit, and appeared as if inclined to put herself under his protection, but there was something in Glumm’s expression that arrested her. His gruffness had forsaken him, and he came forward with an unembarrassed and dignified bearing. “Ada,” he said, in a gentle but deliberate voice, while he gazed into her face so earnestly that she was fain to drop her eyes, “thou must decide my fatenow. To-day it is likely I shall fight my last battle in my fatherland. Death will be abroad on the fiord, more than willing to be courted by all who choose to woo him. Say, dear maid, am I to be thy protector or not?”Ada hesitated, and clasped her hands tightly together, while the tell-tale blood rushed to her cheeks. Glumm, ever stupid on these matters, said no other word, but turned on his heel and strode quickly away.“Stay!” she said.She did not say this loudly, but Glumm heard it, turned round, and strode back again. Ada silently placed her hand in his—it trembled as she did so—and Glumm led her down the hill.The girls were escorted by their lovers only as far as Ulfstede. With all the other women of the place, and the old people, they were put under the care of the hermit, who conveyed them safely to Haldorstede, there to await the issue of the day.Meanwhile, Haldor, Erling, Glumm, Hakon of Drontheim, Ulf, Guttorm Stoutheart, and all the other Sea-kings, not only of Horlingdal, but of the surrounding valleys, with a host of smaller bonders, unfreemen, and thralls, went down to the shores of the bay and prepared for battle.It is needless to say that all were armed to the teeth—with coats of mail and shirts of wolf-skin; swords and battle-axes, bows and arrows, halberds and spears, “morning stars” and bills, scythes, javelins, iron-shod poles—and many other weapons.The principal ships of the fleet were of course those belonging to Haldor, Ulf, and the wealthier men of the district. Some of these were very large—having thirty benches of rowers, and being capable of carrying above a hundred and fifty men. All of them were more or less decorated, and a stately brilliant spectacle they presented, with their quaint towering figureheads, their high poops, shield-hung sides, and numerous oars. Many proud thoughts doubtless filled the hearts of these Sea-kings as they looked at their ships and men, and silently wended their way down to the strand. In the case of Haldor and Erling, however, if not of others, such thoughts were tempered with the feeling that momentous issues hung on the fate of the day.Well was it for all concerned that the men who led them that day were so full of forethought and energy, for scarcely had they completed their preparations and embarked their forces when the ships of Harald Fairhair swept round the northern promontory.If the fleet of the small kings of Horlingdal and the south was imposing, that of the King of Norway was still more so. Besides, being stronger in numbers, and many of the warships being larger—his own huge vessel, the Dragon, led the van, appearing like a gorgeous and gigantic sea-monster.The King was very proud of this longship. It had recently been built by him, and was one of the largest that had ever been seen in Norway. The exact dimensions of it are not now known, but we know that it had thirty-two banks for rowers, from which we may infer that it must have been of nearly the same size with the Long Serpent, a war vessel of thirty-four banks, which was built about the end of the tenth century, and some of the dimensions of which are given in the Saga of Olaf Tryggvesson. The length of her keel that rested on the grass, we are told, was about 111 feet, which is not far short of the length of the keel of one of our forty-two gun frigates. As these warships were long in proportion to their breadth, like our modern steamers, this speaks to a size approaching 400 tons burden. As we have said, the Dragon was a gorgeous vessel. It had a high poop and forecastle, a low waist, or middle part, and a splendidly gilt and painted stern, figurehead, and tail. The sides, which were, as usual, hung round with the red and white painted shields of the crew, were pierced for sixty-four oars, that is, thirty-two on each side, being two oars to each bank or bench, and as there were three men to each oar, this gave a total crew of 192 men; but in truth the vessel contained, including steersmen and supernumeraries, above 200 men. Under the feet of the rowers, in the waist, were chests of arms, piles of stones to be used as missiles, provisions, clothing, goods, and stores, all of which were protected by a deck of movable hatches. On this deck the crew slept at nights, sheltered by an awning or sail, when it was not convenient for them to land and sleep on the beach in their tents, with which all the vessels of the Norsemen were usually supplied. There was but one great mast, forty feet high, and one enormous square sail to this ship. The mast was tipped with gilding, and the sail was of alternate strips of red, white, and blue cloth. Each space between the banks served as the berth of six or eight men, and was divided into half berths—starboard and larboard—for the men who worked the corresponding oars. On the richly ornamented poop stood the King himself, surrounded by his bodyguard and chief men of the Court, including Jarl Rongvold and Thiodolph the scald. From the stem to the mid-hold was the forecastle, on which were stationed the King’s berserkers, under Hake of Hadeland. All the men of Hake’s band were splendid fellows; for King Harald, having a choice of men from the best of every district, took into his house troop only such as were remarkable for strength, courage, and dexterity in the use of their weapons.It must not be supposed that the rest of Harald’s fleet was composed of small vessels. On the contrary, some of them were not far short of his own in point of size. Many of his jarls were wealthy men, and had joined him, some with ten or twenty, and others with thirty, or even forty, ships of various sizes. Many of them had from twenty to thirty banks for rowers, with crews of 100 or 150 men. There were also great numbers of cutters with ten or fifteen banks, and from thirty to fifty men in each, besides a swarm of lesser craft, about the size of our ordinary herring boats.There were many men of note in this fleet, such as King Sigurd of Royer and Simun’s sons; Onund and Andreas; Nicolas Skialdvarsson; Eindrid, a son of Mörnef, who was the most gallant and popular man in the Drontheim country, and many others; the whole composing a formidable force of seven or eight thousand warriors.With Haldor the Fierce, on the other hand, there was a goodly force of men and ships; for the whole south country had been aroused, and they came pouring into the fiord continuously. Nevertheless they did not number nearly so large a force as that under King Harald. Besides those who have been already named, there were Eric, king of Hordaland; Sulke, king of Rogaland, and his brother Jarl Sote; Kiotve the Rich, king of Agder, and his son Thor Haklang; also the brothers Roald Ryg, and Hadd the Hard, of Thelemark, besides many others. But their whole number did not exceed four thousand men; and the worst of it all was that among these there were a great many of the smaller men, and a few of the chiefs whose hearts were not very enthusiastic in the cause, and who had no very strong objection to take service under Harald Fairhair. These, however, held their peace, because the greater men among them, and the chief leaders, such as Haldor and Ulf, were very stern and decided in their determination to resist the King.Now, when the report was brought that Harald’s fleet had doubled the distant cape beyond Hafurdsfiord, the people crowded to the top of the cliffs behind Ulfstede to watch it; and when it was clearly seen that it was so much larger than their own, there were a few who began to say that it would be wiser to refrain from resistance; but Haldor called a Thing together on the spot by sound of horn, and a great many short pithy speeches were made on both sides of the question. Those who were for war were by far the most able men, and so full of fire that they infused much of their own spirit into those who heard them. Erling in particular was very energetic in his denunciation of the illegality of Harald’s proceedings; and even Glumm plucked up heart to leap to his feet and declare, with a face blazing with wrath, that he would rather be drowned in the fiord like a dog, or quit his native land for ever, than remain at home to be the slave of any man!Glumm was not, as the reader is aware, famed for eloquence; nevertheless the abruptness of his fiery spirit, the quick rush of his few sputtered words, and the clatter of his arms, as he struck his fist violently against his shield, drew from the multitude a loud burst of applause. He had in him a good deal of that element which we moderns call “go”. Whatever he did was effectively done.The last who spoke was Solve Klofe. That redoubtable warrior ascended the hill just as Glumm had finished his remarks. He immediately stood forward, and raised his hand with an impassioned gesture. “Glumm is right,” he cried. “It is now clear that we have but one course to take; and that is to rise all as one man against King Harald, for although outnumbered, we still have strength enough to fight for our ancient rights. Fate must decide the victory. If we cannot conquer, at all events we can die. As to becoming his servants, that is no condition forus! My father thought it better to fall in battle than to go willingly into King Harald’s service, or refuse to abide the chance of weapons like the Numedal kings.”“That is well spoken,” cried Haldor, after the shout with which this was received had subsided. “The Thing is at an end, and now we shall make ready, for it can be but a short time until we meet. Let the people take their weapons, and every man be at his post, so that all may be ready when the war-horn sounds the signal to cast off from the land. (See note 1.) Then let us throw off at once, and together, so that none go on before the rest of the ships, and none lag behind when we row out of the fiord. When we meet, and the battle begins, let people be on the alert to bring all our ships in close order, and ready to bind them together. Let us spare ourselves in the beginning, and take care of our weapons, that we do not cast them into the sea, or shoot them away in the air to no purpose. But when the fight becomes hot, and the ships are bound together,thenlet each man show what spirit is in him, and how well he can fight for country, law, and freedom!”A loud ringing cheer was the answer to this speech, and then the whole concourse hurried down the hill and embarked; the vessels were quickly arranged in order according to their size; the war-horn sounded; thousands of oars dipped at the same moment, the blue waters of the fiord were torn into milky foam, and slowly, steadily, and in good order the fleet of the Sea-kings left the strand, doubled the cape to the north of Horlingfiord, and advanced in battle array to meet the foe.Note 1. Signals by call of trumpet were well understood in those times. We read, in the ancient Sagas, of the trumpet-call to arm, to advance, to attack, to retreat, to land, and also to attend a Court Thing, a House Thing, a General Thing. These instruments were made of metal, and there were regular trumpeters.

Again we return to the mound near Ulfstede, the top of which was now bathed in the rays of the morning sun—for the day had only begun, the events narrated at the end of the last chapter having occurred within a period of less than three hours.

Here stood the fair Hilda and the volatile Ada, the former leaning on the arm of the latter, and both gazing intently and in silence on the heart-stirring scene before them. Once again Horlingdal with its fiord was the scene of an assembly of armed men, but this time the concourse was grander, because much greater, than on a previous occasion. Men had learned by recent events that momentous changes were taking place in the land. The news of the King’s acts had been carried far and wide. Everyone felt that a decisive blow was about to be struck somewhere, and although many hundreds had little or no opinion of their own as to what was best for the interests of the kingdom, they knew that a side must be taken, and were quite willing to take that which appeared to be the right, or which seemed most likely to win, while a large proportion of them were intelligently and resolutely opposed to the King’s designs. Thus, when the war-token was sent round, it was answered promptly. Those who dwelt nearest to the place of rendezvous were soon assembled in great numbers, and, from the elevated point on which the girls stood, their glittering masses could be seen on the shore, while they launched their longships and loaded them with stones—the ammunition of those days—or passed briskly to and fro with arms and provisions; while all up the valley, as far as the eye could see, even to the faint blue distance, in the haze of which the glaciers and clouds and mountain tops seemed to commingle, troops of armed men could be seen pouring down from gorge and glen, through wood and furze and fen. On the fiord, too, the same activity and concentration prevailed, though not quite to the same extent. Constantly there swept round the promontories to the north and south, boat after boat, and ship after ship, until the bay close below Ulfstede was crowded with war-craft of every size—their gay sails, and in some cases gilded masts and figureheads, glancing in the sunshine, and their shield-circled gunwales reflected clearly in the sea.

“What a grand sight!” exclaimed Ada with enthusiasm, as she listened to the deep-toned hum of the busy multitude below.

“Would God I had never seen it!” said her companion.

“Out upon thee, Hilda! I scarce deem thee fit to be a free Norse maiden. Such a scene would stir the heart of stone.”

“Itdoesstir my heart strangely, sister,” replied Hilda, “I scarcely can explain how. I feel exultation when I see the might of our district, and the bold bearing of our brave and brisk men; but my heart sinks again when I think of what is to come—the blood of men flowing like water, death sweeping them down like grain before the sickle; and for what? Ada, these go not forth to defend us from our enemies, they go to war with brothers and kindred—with Norsemen.”

Ada beat her foot impatiently on the sod, and frowned a little as she said—

“I know it well enough, but it is a grand sight for all that, and it does no good to peep into the future as thou art doing continually.”

“I do not peep,” replied Hilda; “the future stares me full in the face.”

“Well, let it stare, sister mine,” said Ada, with a laugh, as she cleared her brow, “and stare pastitsface at what lies before thee at present, which is beautiful enough, thou must allow.”

At that moment there seemed to be increasing bustle and energy on the part of the warriors on the shore, and the murmur of their voices grew louder.

“What can that mean, I wonder?” said Ada.

“Fresh news arrived, perhaps,” replied her friend. “The Christians’ God grant that this war may be averted!”

“Amen, if it be His will,” said a deep voice behind the girls, who turned and found the hermit standing at their side. “But, Hilda,” he continued, “God does not always answer our prayers in the way we expect—sometimes because we pray for the wrong thing, and sometimes because we pray that the right thing may come to us in the wrong way. I like best to end my petitions with the words of my dear Saviour Jesus Christ— ‘Thy will be done.’ Just now it would seem as if war were ordained to go on, for a scout has just come in to say that King Harald with his fleet is on the other side of yonder point, and I am sent to fetch thee down to a place of safety without delay.”

“Who sent thee?” demanded Ada.

“Thy foster-father.”

“Methinks we are safe enough here,” she said, with a gesture of impatience.

“Aye, if we win the day, but not if we lose it,” said the old man.

“Come,” said Hilda, “we must obey our father.”

“I have no intention of disobeying him,” retorted the other, tossing her head.

Just then Alric ran up with a look of anxiety on his swelled and blood-stained face.

“Come, girls, ye are in the way here. Haste—ah! here comes Erling—and Glumm too.”

The two young men ran up the hill as he spoke.

“Come with us quickly,” cried Erling; “we do not wish the King’s people to see anyone on this mound. Let me lead thee down, Hilda.”

He took her by the hand and led her away. Glumm went forward to Ada, whose old spirit was evidently still alive, for she glanced at the hermit, and appeared as if inclined to put herself under his protection, but there was something in Glumm’s expression that arrested her. His gruffness had forsaken him, and he came forward with an unembarrassed and dignified bearing. “Ada,” he said, in a gentle but deliberate voice, while he gazed into her face so earnestly that she was fain to drop her eyes, “thou must decide my fatenow. To-day it is likely I shall fight my last battle in my fatherland. Death will be abroad on the fiord, more than willing to be courted by all who choose to woo him. Say, dear maid, am I to be thy protector or not?”

Ada hesitated, and clasped her hands tightly together, while the tell-tale blood rushed to her cheeks. Glumm, ever stupid on these matters, said no other word, but turned on his heel and strode quickly away.

“Stay!” she said.

She did not say this loudly, but Glumm heard it, turned round, and strode back again. Ada silently placed her hand in his—it trembled as she did so—and Glumm led her down the hill.

The girls were escorted by their lovers only as far as Ulfstede. With all the other women of the place, and the old people, they were put under the care of the hermit, who conveyed them safely to Haldorstede, there to await the issue of the day.

Meanwhile, Haldor, Erling, Glumm, Hakon of Drontheim, Ulf, Guttorm Stoutheart, and all the other Sea-kings, not only of Horlingdal, but of the surrounding valleys, with a host of smaller bonders, unfreemen, and thralls, went down to the shores of the bay and prepared for battle.

It is needless to say that all were armed to the teeth—with coats of mail and shirts of wolf-skin; swords and battle-axes, bows and arrows, halberds and spears, “morning stars” and bills, scythes, javelins, iron-shod poles—and many other weapons.

The principal ships of the fleet were of course those belonging to Haldor, Ulf, and the wealthier men of the district. Some of these were very large—having thirty benches of rowers, and being capable of carrying above a hundred and fifty men. All of them were more or less decorated, and a stately brilliant spectacle they presented, with their quaint towering figureheads, their high poops, shield-hung sides, and numerous oars. Many proud thoughts doubtless filled the hearts of these Sea-kings as they looked at their ships and men, and silently wended their way down to the strand. In the case of Haldor and Erling, however, if not of others, such thoughts were tempered with the feeling that momentous issues hung on the fate of the day.

Well was it for all concerned that the men who led them that day were so full of forethought and energy, for scarcely had they completed their preparations and embarked their forces when the ships of Harald Fairhair swept round the northern promontory.

If the fleet of the small kings of Horlingdal and the south was imposing, that of the King of Norway was still more so. Besides, being stronger in numbers, and many of the warships being larger—his own huge vessel, the Dragon, led the van, appearing like a gorgeous and gigantic sea-monster.

The King was very proud of this longship. It had recently been built by him, and was one of the largest that had ever been seen in Norway. The exact dimensions of it are not now known, but we know that it had thirty-two banks for rowers, from which we may infer that it must have been of nearly the same size with the Long Serpent, a war vessel of thirty-four banks, which was built about the end of the tenth century, and some of the dimensions of which are given in the Saga of Olaf Tryggvesson. The length of her keel that rested on the grass, we are told, was about 111 feet, which is not far short of the length of the keel of one of our forty-two gun frigates. As these warships were long in proportion to their breadth, like our modern steamers, this speaks to a size approaching 400 tons burden. As we have said, the Dragon was a gorgeous vessel. It had a high poop and forecastle, a low waist, or middle part, and a splendidly gilt and painted stern, figurehead, and tail. The sides, which were, as usual, hung round with the red and white painted shields of the crew, were pierced for sixty-four oars, that is, thirty-two on each side, being two oars to each bank or bench, and as there were three men to each oar, this gave a total crew of 192 men; but in truth the vessel contained, including steersmen and supernumeraries, above 200 men. Under the feet of the rowers, in the waist, were chests of arms, piles of stones to be used as missiles, provisions, clothing, goods, and stores, all of which were protected by a deck of movable hatches. On this deck the crew slept at nights, sheltered by an awning or sail, when it was not convenient for them to land and sleep on the beach in their tents, with which all the vessels of the Norsemen were usually supplied. There was but one great mast, forty feet high, and one enormous square sail to this ship. The mast was tipped with gilding, and the sail was of alternate strips of red, white, and blue cloth. Each space between the banks served as the berth of six or eight men, and was divided into half berths—starboard and larboard—for the men who worked the corresponding oars. On the richly ornamented poop stood the King himself, surrounded by his bodyguard and chief men of the Court, including Jarl Rongvold and Thiodolph the scald. From the stem to the mid-hold was the forecastle, on which were stationed the King’s berserkers, under Hake of Hadeland. All the men of Hake’s band were splendid fellows; for King Harald, having a choice of men from the best of every district, took into his house troop only such as were remarkable for strength, courage, and dexterity in the use of their weapons.

It must not be supposed that the rest of Harald’s fleet was composed of small vessels. On the contrary, some of them were not far short of his own in point of size. Many of his jarls were wealthy men, and had joined him, some with ten or twenty, and others with thirty, or even forty, ships of various sizes. Many of them had from twenty to thirty banks for rowers, with crews of 100 or 150 men. There were also great numbers of cutters with ten or fifteen banks, and from thirty to fifty men in each, besides a swarm of lesser craft, about the size of our ordinary herring boats.

There were many men of note in this fleet, such as King Sigurd of Royer and Simun’s sons; Onund and Andreas; Nicolas Skialdvarsson; Eindrid, a son of Mörnef, who was the most gallant and popular man in the Drontheim country, and many others; the whole composing a formidable force of seven or eight thousand warriors.

With Haldor the Fierce, on the other hand, there was a goodly force of men and ships; for the whole south country had been aroused, and they came pouring into the fiord continuously. Nevertheless they did not number nearly so large a force as that under King Harald. Besides those who have been already named, there were Eric, king of Hordaland; Sulke, king of Rogaland, and his brother Jarl Sote; Kiotve the Rich, king of Agder, and his son Thor Haklang; also the brothers Roald Ryg, and Hadd the Hard, of Thelemark, besides many others. But their whole number did not exceed four thousand men; and the worst of it all was that among these there were a great many of the smaller men, and a few of the chiefs whose hearts were not very enthusiastic in the cause, and who had no very strong objection to take service under Harald Fairhair. These, however, held their peace, because the greater men among them, and the chief leaders, such as Haldor and Ulf, were very stern and decided in their determination to resist the King.

Now, when the report was brought that Harald’s fleet had doubled the distant cape beyond Hafurdsfiord, the people crowded to the top of the cliffs behind Ulfstede to watch it; and when it was clearly seen that it was so much larger than their own, there were a few who began to say that it would be wiser to refrain from resistance; but Haldor called a Thing together on the spot by sound of horn, and a great many short pithy speeches were made on both sides of the question. Those who were for war were by far the most able men, and so full of fire that they infused much of their own spirit into those who heard them. Erling in particular was very energetic in his denunciation of the illegality of Harald’s proceedings; and even Glumm plucked up heart to leap to his feet and declare, with a face blazing with wrath, that he would rather be drowned in the fiord like a dog, or quit his native land for ever, than remain at home to be the slave of any man!

Glumm was not, as the reader is aware, famed for eloquence; nevertheless the abruptness of his fiery spirit, the quick rush of his few sputtered words, and the clatter of his arms, as he struck his fist violently against his shield, drew from the multitude a loud burst of applause. He had in him a good deal of that element which we moderns call “go”. Whatever he did was effectively done.

The last who spoke was Solve Klofe. That redoubtable warrior ascended the hill just as Glumm had finished his remarks. He immediately stood forward, and raised his hand with an impassioned gesture. “Glumm is right,” he cried. “It is now clear that we have but one course to take; and that is to rise all as one man against King Harald, for although outnumbered, we still have strength enough to fight for our ancient rights. Fate must decide the victory. If we cannot conquer, at all events we can die. As to becoming his servants, that is no condition forus! My father thought it better to fall in battle than to go willingly into King Harald’s service, or refuse to abide the chance of weapons like the Numedal kings.”

“That is well spoken,” cried Haldor, after the shout with which this was received had subsided. “The Thing is at an end, and now we shall make ready, for it can be but a short time until we meet. Let the people take their weapons, and every man be at his post, so that all may be ready when the war-horn sounds the signal to cast off from the land. (See note 1.) Then let us throw off at once, and together, so that none go on before the rest of the ships, and none lag behind when we row out of the fiord. When we meet, and the battle begins, let people be on the alert to bring all our ships in close order, and ready to bind them together. Let us spare ourselves in the beginning, and take care of our weapons, that we do not cast them into the sea, or shoot them away in the air to no purpose. But when the fight becomes hot, and the ships are bound together,thenlet each man show what spirit is in him, and how well he can fight for country, law, and freedom!”

A loud ringing cheer was the answer to this speech, and then the whole concourse hurried down the hill and embarked; the vessels were quickly arranged in order according to their size; the war-horn sounded; thousands of oars dipped at the same moment, the blue waters of the fiord were torn into milky foam, and slowly, steadily, and in good order the fleet of the Sea-kings left the strand, doubled the cape to the north of Horlingfiord, and advanced in battle array to meet the foe.

Note 1. Signals by call of trumpet were well understood in those times. We read, in the ancient Sagas, of the trumpet-call to arm, to advance, to attack, to retreat, to land, and also to attend a Court Thing, a House Thing, a General Thing. These instruments were made of metal, and there were regular trumpeters.

Chapter Twenty Two.Describes a Great Sea Fight and its Consequences.Harald Fairhair stood on the poop of the great Dragon, and held the steering oar. When he saw the fleet of the Sea-kings approaching, he called Jarl Rongvold to him and said—“Methinks, jarl, that I now see the end of this war with the small kings. It is easy to perceive that the utmost force they are able to raise is here. Now, I intend to beat them to-day, and break their strength for ever. But when the battle is over, many of them will seek to escape. I would prevent that as much as may be.”The King paused, as if engaged in deep thought.“How do you propose to do it, sire?”“By means of a boom,” said the King. “Go thou, summon hither the trustiest man in the fleet for such a purpose, let him detach as many men and ships as he deems needful, and go into yonder small fiord where there is a pine wood on the hillside. There let him make a long and strong boom of timber, while we are engaged in the fight. I will drive as many of the ships as I can into Horlingfiord, and when that is done let him come out and stretch the boom right across, so that none of them shall escape. And, harkee, see that the man thou choosest for this duty is an able man, and does it well, else shall his head be lopped off.”After issuing this command the King resigned the helm, and ordered his banner to be set up, which was done immediately. At the same time his opponents shook out their banners, and both fleets were put in order of battle.As both were arrayed much in the same way, it will be sufficient to describe the arrangements made by Haldor the Fierce, who had been elected commander-in-chief of the small kings’ fleet.When Haldor saw the King’s banner displayed, he unfurled his own in the centre of the fleet, and arranged his force for attack right against it. Alongside of him on the right was Ulf of Romsdal with thirty ships, and on his left was old Guttorm Stoutheart with twenty-five ships. These composed the centre of the line. Kettle Flatnose commanded the men on the forecastle in Ulf’s longship, and Thorer the Thick was over those in Haldor’s vessel.The right wing was commanded by Solve Klofe, under whom were Eric of Hordaland with fifteen ships; Sulke of Rogaland and his brother Sote with thirty ships, as well as Kiotve of Agder, and some others with many ships—all of large size.The left wing was led by King Hakon of Drontheim, under whom were Roald Ryg and Hadd the Hard, and Thor Haklang, with a good many ships. Solve Klofe laid his ships against King Harald’s left wing, which was under Eindrid, son of Mörnef, and Hakon laid his against King Sigurd of Royer, who led Harald’s right wing. All the chiefs on either side laid their ships according as they were bold or well equipped. When all was ready, they bound the ships together by the stems, and advanced towards each other at the sound of the war-trumpet. But as the fleets were so large, many of the smaller vessels remained loose, and, as it were, went about skirmishing independently. These were laid forward in the fight, according to the courage of their commanders, which was very unequal.Among these roving warriors were our heroes Erling and Glumm, each in one of his own small cutters, with about forty men.As soon as the war-blast sounded the men rode forward to the attack, and soon narrowed the small space that lay between the hostile fleets. Then Haldor and the other commanders went down to the sides of their ships, where the men stood so thick that their shields touched all round, and encouraged them to fight well for the freedom of old Norway—to which they replied with loud huzzas. Immediately after the air was darkened with a cloud of arrows, and the fight began.There were scalds in both fleets at that fight, these afterwards wrote a poem descriptive of it, part of which we now quote:“With falcon eye and courage bright,Haldor the Fierce prepared for fight;‘Hand up the arms to one and all!’He cries. ‘My men, we’ll win or fall!Sooner than fly, heaped on each other,Each man will fall across his brother!’Thus spake, and through his vessels’ throngHis mighty warship moved along.He ran her gaily to the front,To meet the coming battle’s brunt—Then gave the word the ships to bindAnd shake his banner to the wind.Our oars were stowed, our lances highSwung to and fro athwart the sky.Haldor the Fierce went through the ranks,Drawn up beside the rowers’ banks,Where rows of shields seemed to encloseThe ship’s deck from the boarding foes,Encouraging his chosen crew,He tells his brave lads to stand true,And rows against—while arrows sing—The Dragon of the tyrant King.With glowing hearts and loud huzzas,His men lay on in freedom’s cause.The sea-steeds foam; they plunge and rock:The warriors meet in battle shock;The ring-linked coats of strongest mailCould not withstand the iron hail.The fire of battle raged around;Odin’s steel shirts flew all unbound.The pelting shower of stone and steel,Caused many a Norseman stout to reel,The red blood poured like summer rain;The foam was scarlet on the main;But, all unmoved like oak in wood,Silent and grim fierce Haldor stood,Until his axe could reach the foe—Then—swift he thundered blow on blow.And ever, as his axe came down,It cleft or crushed another crown.Elsewhere the chiefs on either sideFought gallantly above the tide.King Hakon pressed King Sigurd sore,And Ulf made Hake the berserk roar,And Kettle Flatnose dared to springOn board the ship of Norway’s King.Old Guttorm Stoutheart’s mighty shoutAbove the din was heard throughout,And Solve Klofe, ’gainst Mörnef’s son,Slew right and left till day was done.While, all around the loose ships rowed—Where’er they went the red stream flowed.Chief among these was Erling boldAnd Glumm the Gruff, of whom ’tis toldThey rushed in thickest of the fray—Whatever part the line gave way—And twice, and thrice, retrieved the day.But heart, and strength, and courage true,Could not avail where one fought two.King Harald, foremost in the fight,With flashing sword, resistless might,Pushed on and slew, and dyed with redThe bright steel cap on many a head.Against the hero’s shield in vain,The arrow-storm sends forth its rain.The javelins and spear-thrusts failTo pierce his coat of ringèd mail.The King stands on the blood-stained deck;Trampling on many a foeman’s neck;And high above the dinning stoundOf helm and axe, and ringing soundOf blade, and shield, and raven’s cryIs heard the shout of—‘Victory!’”In this poem the scald gives only an outline of the great fight. Let us follow more closely the action of those in whom we are peculiarly interested.For more than two hours the battle raged with unabated fury—victory inclining to neither side; but as the day advanced, the energy with which Solve Klofe pushed the right wing began to tell, and the King’s men gave way a little at that part. Harald, however, was on the alert. He sent some of his loose ships to reinforce them, and so regained his position. A short time after that, some of Solve’s ships were boarded, but at that moment Erling and Glumm chanced to pass in their cutters—for they kept always close together—and they gave such a shout, while they turned and pulled to the rescue, that the men, who were wavering, took heart again and drove the foe overboard. Just then the ship on the right of Solve Klofe’s vessel was also boarded by the enemy. Seeing this, Erling called to Glumm that there was need of succour there, and they rowed swiftly to the spot.“Art thou hard pressed, Solve?” asked Erling, as he ranged up to the stern of his friend’s ship.Solve was so furious that he could not answer, but pointed to the ship next his, and sprang on the edge of his own, intending to leap into that of the enemy, and get to the forefront. At the same time Eindrid, son of Mörnef, stood up on the high foredeck of his ship with a large stone in his hand. He was a very powerful man, and hurled the stone with such force against Solve’s shield that it battered him down, and he fell back into his own ship much stunned. Seeing this, Erling bade two of his men follow him, leaped into Solve’s ship, and thence into the one where the fight was sharpest. Glumm followed him closely with his long two-handed sword, and these two fought so dreadfully that Eindrid’s men were driven back into their own ship again. Then Erling ran to the place where the high stern was wedged between two of the enemy’s ships, and sprang on the forecastle of Eindrid’s ship.“Thou art a bold man!” said Eindrid, turning on him.“That may be as thou sayest,” replied Erling, at the same time catching a thrust on his shield, which he returned with such interest with his axe that Eindrid’s head was nearly severed from his body. At the same moment Glumm cut down a famous berserk who ran at him, and in a few minutes they had cleared the deck of the ship, and taken possession of it. But this was scarcely accomplished when a cry arose that the left wing under King Hakon was giving way.At once Erling and Glumm ran back to their cutters, and made towards that part of the line, followed by several of the loose ships. Here they found that King Hakon was very hard pressed by Sigurd of Royer, so they pushed in among the ships, and soon Erling’s well-known war-cry was heard, and his tall form was seen sweeping men down before him with his great axe, like a mower cutting grass. Glumm, however, did not keep close to him this time, but made direct for Hakon’s ship, for he remembered that he was Ada’s father, and thought he might do him some service.As he was coming near he saw Swankie, a famous berserk, fighting furiously on board Hakon’s ship, and roaring, as was the wont of berserkers sometimes, like a wild bull. Hakon’s men had formed a shield-circle round their chief, and were defending him bravely; but the berserk was an uncommonly stout man, very brisk and active, and exceedingly furious, as well as dexterous with his weapons. He slew so many men that the shield-circle was broken, and he made at Hakon just as Glumm leaped into the ship at the stern. King Hakon was a stout man and brave, but he was getting old, and not so active as he used to be. Nevertheless he met Swankie like a man, and dealt him a blow on his helmet which made him stagger. The berserk uttered a fearful roar, and struck at Hakon so fiercely that he split the upper part of his shield and cut open his helmet. Hakon fell, but before he could repeat the blow Glumm was upon him.“What! is it thou, Swankie?” he cried. “Dog, methought I had killed thee long ago!”“That is yet to be done,” cried the berserk, leaping upon Glumm with a sweeping blow of his sword. Glumm stooped quickly, and the blow passed over his head; then he fetched a sudden cut at Swankie, and split him down from the neck to the waist, saying, “It is done now, methinks,” as he drew out his sword. Glumm did not go forward, but let his men drive back the foe, while he turned and kneeled beside Hakon.“Has the dog hurt thee badly?” he asked, raising the old warrior’s head on his knee, and speaking in a voice of almost womanly tenderness.Hakon made an effort to speak, but for some time was unable to do so, and Glumm held his shield over him to keep off the stones and arrows which fell thickly around them. After a few moments Hakon wiped away the blood which flowed from a deep wound in his forehead, and looked up wildly in Glumm’s face. He tried again to speak, and Glumm, misunderstanding the few words he muttered, said: “Thou art already avenged, King Hakon; Swankie the berserk is dead.”The dying man made another effort to speak, and was successful.“That concerns me little, Glumm. Thou lovest Ada, I know. This ring—take it to her, say her father’s last thoughts were of her. Be a good husband, Glumm. The brooch—see.”“Which?” asked Glumm, looking at several silver brooches with which the old warrior’s armour was fastened—“this one on thy breast?”“Aye, take it—it was—her mother’s.”The warrior’s spirit seemed to be relieved when he had said this. He sank down into a state resembling sleep. Once or twice afterwards he opened his eyes and gazed up into the bright sky with a doubtful yet earnest and enquiring gaze. Gradually the breathing became fainter, until it ceased altogether, and Glumm saw that the old man was dead.Fastening the brooch on his own broad chest, and putting the ring on his finger, Glumm rose, seized his sword, and rushed again into the thick of the fight with tenfold more fury than he had yet displayed, and ere long the danger that threatened the left wing was for the time averted.Meanwhile in the centre there was an equally uncertain and obstinate conflict—for the chiefs on either side were mighty men of valour. Wherever Old Guttorm’s voice was heard, there victory inclined. Haldor, on the other hand, did not shout, but he laid about him with such wild ferocity that many men quailed at the very sight of him, and wherever he went he was victorious. It was some time before he managed to get alongside of King Harald Fairhair’s ship, but when he did so the fight became sharp in the extreme.All the men in King Harald’s ship, except the berserks, were clad in coats of ring mail, and wore foreign helmets, and most of them had white shields. Besides, as has been said, each man was celebrated for personal strength and daring, so that none of those who were opposed to them could make head against them. The arrows and spears fell harmless from their shields, casques, and coats of mail, and it was only now and then—as when a shaft happened to enter a man’s eye—that any fell. When Haldor’s forecastle men attacked the berserkers on the high fore deck of the Dragon, the fighting was terrible, for the berserkers all roared aloud and fought with the wild fury of madmen, and so fierce was their onslaught that Haldor’s men were forced at first to give back. But Thorer the Thick guarded himself warily, and being well armed escaped injury for a time. When he saw the berserkers beginning to flag, he leaped forward like a lion, and hewed them down right and left, so that his men drove the enemy back into the Dragon. Some of them slipped on the gun-wales, and so did some of Haldor’s men, all of whom fell into the sea, and a few of them were drowned, while others were killed, but one or two escaped by swimming.Ulf’s ship was also pretty close to the Dragon, and he wished greatly to board it, but was so hard beset by the ship of Nicolas Skialdvarsson that he could not do so for a long time. Here Kettle Flatnose did prodigies of valour. He stood on the high fore-deck with his favourite weapon, the hook, and therewith pulled a great number of men off the enemy’s deck into the sea. At last he got a footing on their gunwale, dropped his hook, drew his sword, and soon cleared his way aft. Ulf leaped after him, drove the men into the waist, and then the most of them were slain, and lay in heaps one upon another. After that it was not difficult to clear the poop. Skialdvarsson defended it well, but he could not stand before Ulf, who finally cut off his head, and so the ship was won.This vessel lay alongside that of King Harald; and although the King was fully engaged with Haldor at the time, he observed the conquest of Skialdvarsson by Ulf, and also perceived that Ulf’s men were crowding the side of the vessel, and throwing grappling-irons into his own ship with a view to board it; for there was a space between the ships a little too wide for men to leap. Springing to the side, the King cut the grappling-irons with a sweep of his sword.“That was well tried,” he said.“It shall be tried again,” cried Ulf, heaving another iron, which nearly struck the King, but Harald’s sword flashed through the air, and again the iron was cut.At that moment Kettle Flatnose stepped back a few paces, and with a mighty rush leaped right over the space in all his war gear, and alighted on the Dragon’s deck within a yard of the King. It was a tremendous leap, and so nearly beyond the compass of Kettle’s powers that he was scarcely able to retain his foothold, but stood for a moment on the edge of the vessel with shield and sword upheaved, as he staggered to regain his balance. Thus exposed, he might have easily been slain; but the King, instead of using his sword, stepped forward, and with his left hand pushed the Irishman overboard. The cheer which greeted his daring leap had scarcely ceased to ring when he fell heavily into the sea.“A goodly man, and a bold attempt,” said the King, with a smile, as he turned to Jarl Rongvold. “’Twould have been a pity to slay him outright. If he can swim he may yet live to fight another battle.”“True, sire,” replied the jarl, who was looking over the side at the place where Kettle fell; “but methinks he has struck his head on an oar, and will never succeed in swimming towards a friendly hand.”This indeed seemed to be true; for Kettle lay with his arm over an oar, and his head hanging down in the water, like a dead man. Yet there was life in him, for his fingers moved. Ulf had witnessed all this, and was on the point of attempting to leap across to Harald’s ship when Kettle fell. He paused, and, seeing that his comrade was apparently being drowned, at once dropped sword and shield, and sprang into the sea after him.At that moment a number of the King’s boldest and best armed men observed that the two ships had drawn a little nearer to each other. In a moment they leaped across the intervening space, took their opponents by surprise, and quickly regained the ship.While this had been going on at the poop, the fight on the forecastle had raged with extreme fury, for Haldor the Fierce had gained a footing on the Dragon’s deck, and was engaged in mortal combat with Hake the berserk, whom he was slowly but surely driving back. His son Erling the Bold, who observed what was going on, had run his cutter along the stern of his father’s ship, and was hastening to his aid, when King Harald became aware that his men were giving way, and rushed to their support. He went forward raging with anger, and as he ran he picked up a huge stone, which he hurled before him. Haldor was at the moment in the act of fetching a deadly cut at Hake, whom he had disarmed. The stone struck him full in the chest, and he fell backward just as Erling reached his side.A great cheer arose at this time on the right; for there the wing of the Southland men was broken, and everywhere King Harald’s men were victorious.“Hold thou them in check, Glumm,” cried Erling to his friend, as he quickly raised his father in his arms and bore him away to his cutter.Glumm, who had followed his friend like his shadow, sprang forward and engaged Hake, who had recovered his sword, and who found this new enemy little, if at all, less formidable than the other.Erling placed his father carefully in the cutter.“Here, Thorer,” he said, “do thou guard my father, and hold thyself and the carles in readiness to push off. The day is lost, I see. I go to slay the King, and will return presently.”He leaped away as he spoke, and regained the foredeck of the Dragon, where Glumm and his men were still engaged with the berserkers, just as the King came to the front. The instant he saw Erling he leaped upon him with a fierce shout, and shook back his shaggy flaxen locks as a lion might shake his mane. Erling was not a whit behind him in anxiety to meet. He sprang upon him with a crashing blow of his great pole-axe, which rang loudly on the King’s shield, but did him no hurt. They were a well-matched pair. Harald was fully as stout, though not quite so tall as his opponent, whose fine silky hair was almost as bushy as that of the King, though neither so long nor so tangled.Men drew back and stood aside when they heard the shock and shout of their onset, and suspended the fight around them, while they gazed on in silent awe. For a time it seemed doubtful which was the better man; for the King’s blade whirled incessantly around his head like flashing light, and rang on Erling’s shield, which was ever upraised to meet it. At the same time the axe of our hero, if not so swift in its gyrations, was more tremendous in its action; more than once the King was seen to stagger beneath its thundering blows, and once he was beaten down on one knee. How long this might have lasted it is impossible to tell; but, seeing that the King was likely to get the worst of it, one of his men crept round by the outside of the ship, and coming suddenly up behind Erling, put out his hand and caught him by the leg, causing him to stagger backwards, so that he fell overboard. In falling our hero caught the man by the throat, and both fell into the sea together.It was seen that Erling dived with his foe and dragged him down as if to force him to perish along with him, and everyone looked for a few moments at the water, expecting to see them rise. Glumm gazed among the rest; and he had leaped down into Haldor’s ship to be ready to lend a hand. But Erling did not rise again. Seeing this, Glumm sprang up with sudden fury and dashed at the enemy, but by this time they had recovered from their surprise, and now poured into the ship in such overwhelming numbers that the men were driven back and slain, or they leaped overboard and trusted to escape by swimming.Meanwhile Erling the Bold having choked off his antagonist, dived under his father’s ship and came up at the stern of his own cutter, into which he speedily clambered by means of a rope which hung over the side. He found that his father was seated on the poop with his head resting on the gunwale, recovering consciousness slowly, and Thorer was engaged in the difficult task of preventing the men from leaving the vessel to succour their comrades.“Keep back, men,” cried Erling in a voice which none dared to disobey. “Stay where ye are and get out the oars.—Come, Thorer, follow me with a stout man, and keep them back while I rescue Glumm.”He jumped into Haldor’s ship, and ran to the fore part of the poop, where Glumm was fighting against overwhelming odds, with the blind desperation of a man who has resolved to sell his life as dearly as he can. Thorer and a tall stout man followed him, and instantly assailed King Harald’s men with such fury that they gave back a little. At the same moment Erling seized Glumm by the neck; almost strangled him; dragged him violently to the stern, and half sprang, half tumbled with him into the cutter, where, despite his frantic struggles to rise, he held him down.“Now, my brisk lads,” shouted Erling, who was gasping by this time, “come back and jump in! Push off an ell or so. Steady!”Thorer and the other man heard the shout, and, turning at once, ran to the stern and leaped into the cutter, which was instantly thrust off, so that one or two of their opponents who ventured to jump after them were left floundering in the sea.By this time King Harald’s victory was complete. Both wings had been beaten for some time, and now the centre had given way—only one or two of the more desperate leaders were still keeping up the fight.As Erling rowed towards the shore he could see that all the loose vessels of the fleet were flying up the fiord, pursued by a few of the loose vessels of the enemy. But the greater part of both fleets being tied together, could take no part in the chase until they were cut asunder.“The day is lost, father,” said Erling, as he stood by the steering oar.“I know it, my son,” replied Haldor, who was now able to sit up and look about him; “Norway is henceforth enthralled.”He said this in a tone of such deep sadness that Erling forbore to continue the subject.“They are cutting asunder the fleet,” observed Glumm, who had recovered self-possession, and stood looking back at the scene of the recent conflict; “surely some of them are trying to escape.”As he spoke, one of the large vessels shot out from among the others, and rowed rapidly away. There was desperate fighting on board of it for a few minutes, and then a number of men were pushed or thrown overboard, and a loud cheer of victory arose.“Well done, Solve Klofe!” cried Erling with enthusiasm. “That is his shout. I should know it among a thousand. He at least is bent on being free!”Several of Harald’s ships, which had been also cut loose, immediately gave chase, but Solve’s men pulled so well that they soon left them behind, and hoisting their sail to a light breeze which was blowing just off the mouth of the fiord, soon doubled the point and bore away to the south.“Is that someone swimming in the water?” asked Erling, pointing as he spoke to an object which moved forward among the débris of oars, portions of clothing, and wreck, which was floating about everywhere.One of the men at the bow oar stood up, and after a short glance, said that he thought it was a man.“Look out on the starboard bow. Mind your oars and be ready, someone, to lean over the waist and catch hold of him.”As he spoke, the cutter ranged up to the object, which appeared to be the dishevelled and blood-bespattered head of a man. He suddenly gave vent to a wild shout—“Come on, thou tyrant! Down with ye, dog—huzza!” At the last shout a pair of arms were swung wildly in the air, and the next moment the man’s voice was stifled in the water as he sank, while another head appeared beside him.“That is the voice of Kettle Flatnose, or his wraith,” exclaimed Erling; “pull gently, lads; hold water.”“Why, Ulf, is it thou?”“Truly,” exclaimed Ulf, grasping the extended hand of Glumm, “I don’t feel quite sure! Haul gently, Glumm. I’ve got Kettle here. Another hand or two. Now then, heave together!”Several stout men leaned over the side, and, acting in accordance with these instructions, hauled Ulf and Kettle out of the sea; the former in a state of great exhaustion, the latter almost dead, for his last dip had well-nigh choked him.“It has been a long swim,” said Ulf, sitting down and leaning languidly against the bulwarks, while Glumm and Haldor proceeded to chafe the Irishman into a state of consciousness. “Once or twice I sank under him, for he was very wild when he came to himself, after I got hold of him, and struggled to be up and fight the King; but I held him fast. Yet methought once or twice,” added Ulf, with a smile, “that I had at last got into Valhalla.”A horn of ale refreshed Ulf, and another of the same was shortly after given to Kettle, by which his wandering faculties were soon restored.By this time they were drawing near the bay at Ulfstede, and Erling urged on the rowers, for they could see that Harald’s ships were now cast loose, and giving chase to those that endeavoured to escape, while several of the largest, including the Dragon, made direct for the land.“Our whole effort now,” said Haldor, “must be to rescue the women.”“That will not be easy,” observed Ulf gloomily.“But it is not impossible,” said Erling with decision. “We shall have time to get into the woods, and so round to the cave. By the way, does anyone know aught of Hakon of Drontheim?”“He is dead,” said Glumm.“Dead!”At that moment Haldor started up with a wild exclamation, and pointed towards the spot on which his own dwelling stood, where, above the trees, there arose a cloud of dense black smoke. The truth was soon all too plain, for, on rounding the point which had hitherto concealed the bay from their view, several of the enemy’s largest ships were seen with their bows on the shore. It was evident that part of the left wing of the enemy, which was first victorious, had, unobserved by them, made for the shore, and landed a large force of men, who had hastened to Ulfstede, and, finding it deserted, had pushed on to Haldorstede, which they had set on fire.“Now indeed would death be welcome!” cried Haldor, stamping fiercely on the deck, while every feature of his face blazed with wrath.We need scarcely say that the hearts of all had sunk within them, but Erling said—“Death would be unwelcome yet, father. The men, no doubt, are killed, but be sure they will not hurt the women while King Harald is on his way to the stede. We may yet die in defending them, if we cannot save them.”“True, my son,” said Haldor, clasping his hands, and looking upwards with a solemnity of expression that was in strong contrast with his recent burst of passion; “we may perchance save them, as thou sayest; but woe is me for poor Alric!”“Alric is safe, I am certain,” said Erling energetically, as he turned a meaning glance on Glumm.“How knowest thou that?” asked Haldor.Erling hesitated to reply, not wishing to raise hopes that after all might prove to be fallacious.Before the question could be repeated the cutter’s keel grated on the sand of a small bay which was close to the large one, and concealed from it by a small rocky islet. Here they all jumped ashore—all except Kettle Flatnose, who, on attempting to rise, found himself so weak that he fell down again, and nearly fainted.“This is bad,” said Erling. “But come, we have no time to waste. Give me the chief command of our men, father; I have a plan in my head.”“Do as thou wilt,” said Haldor, with a strange mixture of despair, resignation, and ferocity in his tone.“Come then, form up, men, and follow me!”So saying, Erling lifted Kettle in his arms, and hurried away with him as if he had been no heavier than a little boy! He led the way to the secret entrance to the cave, where, true as steel to his trust, little Alric was found with a few men guarding the two warships of Erling and Glumm.

Harald Fairhair stood on the poop of the great Dragon, and held the steering oar. When he saw the fleet of the Sea-kings approaching, he called Jarl Rongvold to him and said—

“Methinks, jarl, that I now see the end of this war with the small kings. It is easy to perceive that the utmost force they are able to raise is here. Now, I intend to beat them to-day, and break their strength for ever. But when the battle is over, many of them will seek to escape. I would prevent that as much as may be.”

The King paused, as if engaged in deep thought.

“How do you propose to do it, sire?”

“By means of a boom,” said the King. “Go thou, summon hither the trustiest man in the fleet for such a purpose, let him detach as many men and ships as he deems needful, and go into yonder small fiord where there is a pine wood on the hillside. There let him make a long and strong boom of timber, while we are engaged in the fight. I will drive as many of the ships as I can into Horlingfiord, and when that is done let him come out and stretch the boom right across, so that none of them shall escape. And, harkee, see that the man thou choosest for this duty is an able man, and does it well, else shall his head be lopped off.”

After issuing this command the King resigned the helm, and ordered his banner to be set up, which was done immediately. At the same time his opponents shook out their banners, and both fleets were put in order of battle.

As both were arrayed much in the same way, it will be sufficient to describe the arrangements made by Haldor the Fierce, who had been elected commander-in-chief of the small kings’ fleet.

When Haldor saw the King’s banner displayed, he unfurled his own in the centre of the fleet, and arranged his force for attack right against it. Alongside of him on the right was Ulf of Romsdal with thirty ships, and on his left was old Guttorm Stoutheart with twenty-five ships. These composed the centre of the line. Kettle Flatnose commanded the men on the forecastle in Ulf’s longship, and Thorer the Thick was over those in Haldor’s vessel.

The right wing was commanded by Solve Klofe, under whom were Eric of Hordaland with fifteen ships; Sulke of Rogaland and his brother Sote with thirty ships, as well as Kiotve of Agder, and some others with many ships—all of large size.

The left wing was led by King Hakon of Drontheim, under whom were Roald Ryg and Hadd the Hard, and Thor Haklang, with a good many ships. Solve Klofe laid his ships against King Harald’s left wing, which was under Eindrid, son of Mörnef, and Hakon laid his against King Sigurd of Royer, who led Harald’s right wing. All the chiefs on either side laid their ships according as they were bold or well equipped. When all was ready, they bound the ships together by the stems, and advanced towards each other at the sound of the war-trumpet. But as the fleets were so large, many of the smaller vessels remained loose, and, as it were, went about skirmishing independently. These were laid forward in the fight, according to the courage of their commanders, which was very unequal.

Among these roving warriors were our heroes Erling and Glumm, each in one of his own small cutters, with about forty men.

As soon as the war-blast sounded the men rode forward to the attack, and soon narrowed the small space that lay between the hostile fleets. Then Haldor and the other commanders went down to the sides of their ships, where the men stood so thick that their shields touched all round, and encouraged them to fight well for the freedom of old Norway—to which they replied with loud huzzas. Immediately after the air was darkened with a cloud of arrows, and the fight began.

There were scalds in both fleets at that fight, these afterwards wrote a poem descriptive of it, part of which we now quote:

“With falcon eye and courage bright,Haldor the Fierce prepared for fight;‘Hand up the arms to one and all!’He cries. ‘My men, we’ll win or fall!Sooner than fly, heaped on each other,Each man will fall across his brother!’Thus spake, and through his vessels’ throngHis mighty warship moved along.He ran her gaily to the front,To meet the coming battle’s brunt—Then gave the word the ships to bindAnd shake his banner to the wind.Our oars were stowed, our lances highSwung to and fro athwart the sky.Haldor the Fierce went through the ranks,Drawn up beside the rowers’ banks,Where rows of shields seemed to encloseThe ship’s deck from the boarding foes,Encouraging his chosen crew,He tells his brave lads to stand true,And rows against—while arrows sing—The Dragon of the tyrant King.With glowing hearts and loud huzzas,His men lay on in freedom’s cause.The sea-steeds foam; they plunge and rock:The warriors meet in battle shock;The ring-linked coats of strongest mailCould not withstand the iron hail.The fire of battle raged around;Odin’s steel shirts flew all unbound.The pelting shower of stone and steel,Caused many a Norseman stout to reel,The red blood poured like summer rain;The foam was scarlet on the main;But, all unmoved like oak in wood,Silent and grim fierce Haldor stood,Until his axe could reach the foe—Then—swift he thundered blow on blow.And ever, as his axe came down,It cleft or crushed another crown.Elsewhere the chiefs on either sideFought gallantly above the tide.King Hakon pressed King Sigurd sore,And Ulf made Hake the berserk roar,And Kettle Flatnose dared to springOn board the ship of Norway’s King.Old Guttorm Stoutheart’s mighty shoutAbove the din was heard throughout,And Solve Klofe, ’gainst Mörnef’s son,Slew right and left till day was done.While, all around the loose ships rowed—Where’er they went the red stream flowed.Chief among these was Erling boldAnd Glumm the Gruff, of whom ’tis toldThey rushed in thickest of the fray—Whatever part the line gave way—And twice, and thrice, retrieved the day.But heart, and strength, and courage true,Could not avail where one fought two.King Harald, foremost in the fight,With flashing sword, resistless might,Pushed on and slew, and dyed with redThe bright steel cap on many a head.Against the hero’s shield in vain,The arrow-storm sends forth its rain.The javelins and spear-thrusts failTo pierce his coat of ringèd mail.The King stands on the blood-stained deck;Trampling on many a foeman’s neck;And high above the dinning stoundOf helm and axe, and ringing soundOf blade, and shield, and raven’s cryIs heard the shout of—‘Victory!’”

“With falcon eye and courage bright,Haldor the Fierce prepared for fight;‘Hand up the arms to one and all!’He cries. ‘My men, we’ll win or fall!Sooner than fly, heaped on each other,Each man will fall across his brother!’Thus spake, and through his vessels’ throngHis mighty warship moved along.He ran her gaily to the front,To meet the coming battle’s brunt—Then gave the word the ships to bindAnd shake his banner to the wind.Our oars were stowed, our lances highSwung to and fro athwart the sky.Haldor the Fierce went through the ranks,Drawn up beside the rowers’ banks,Where rows of shields seemed to encloseThe ship’s deck from the boarding foes,Encouraging his chosen crew,He tells his brave lads to stand true,And rows against—while arrows sing—The Dragon of the tyrant King.With glowing hearts and loud huzzas,His men lay on in freedom’s cause.The sea-steeds foam; they plunge and rock:The warriors meet in battle shock;The ring-linked coats of strongest mailCould not withstand the iron hail.The fire of battle raged around;Odin’s steel shirts flew all unbound.The pelting shower of stone and steel,Caused many a Norseman stout to reel,The red blood poured like summer rain;The foam was scarlet on the main;But, all unmoved like oak in wood,Silent and grim fierce Haldor stood,Until his axe could reach the foe—Then—swift he thundered blow on blow.And ever, as his axe came down,It cleft or crushed another crown.Elsewhere the chiefs on either sideFought gallantly above the tide.King Hakon pressed King Sigurd sore,And Ulf made Hake the berserk roar,And Kettle Flatnose dared to springOn board the ship of Norway’s King.Old Guttorm Stoutheart’s mighty shoutAbove the din was heard throughout,And Solve Klofe, ’gainst Mörnef’s son,Slew right and left till day was done.While, all around the loose ships rowed—Where’er they went the red stream flowed.Chief among these was Erling boldAnd Glumm the Gruff, of whom ’tis toldThey rushed in thickest of the fray—Whatever part the line gave way—And twice, and thrice, retrieved the day.But heart, and strength, and courage true,Could not avail where one fought two.King Harald, foremost in the fight,With flashing sword, resistless might,Pushed on and slew, and dyed with redThe bright steel cap on many a head.Against the hero’s shield in vain,The arrow-storm sends forth its rain.The javelins and spear-thrusts failTo pierce his coat of ringèd mail.The King stands on the blood-stained deck;Trampling on many a foeman’s neck;And high above the dinning stoundOf helm and axe, and ringing soundOf blade, and shield, and raven’s cryIs heard the shout of—‘Victory!’”

In this poem the scald gives only an outline of the great fight. Let us follow more closely the action of those in whom we are peculiarly interested.

For more than two hours the battle raged with unabated fury—victory inclining to neither side; but as the day advanced, the energy with which Solve Klofe pushed the right wing began to tell, and the King’s men gave way a little at that part. Harald, however, was on the alert. He sent some of his loose ships to reinforce them, and so regained his position. A short time after that, some of Solve’s ships were boarded, but at that moment Erling and Glumm chanced to pass in their cutters—for they kept always close together—and they gave such a shout, while they turned and pulled to the rescue, that the men, who were wavering, took heart again and drove the foe overboard. Just then the ship on the right of Solve Klofe’s vessel was also boarded by the enemy. Seeing this, Erling called to Glumm that there was need of succour there, and they rowed swiftly to the spot.

“Art thou hard pressed, Solve?” asked Erling, as he ranged up to the stern of his friend’s ship.

Solve was so furious that he could not answer, but pointed to the ship next his, and sprang on the edge of his own, intending to leap into that of the enemy, and get to the forefront. At the same time Eindrid, son of Mörnef, stood up on the high foredeck of his ship with a large stone in his hand. He was a very powerful man, and hurled the stone with such force against Solve’s shield that it battered him down, and he fell back into his own ship much stunned. Seeing this, Erling bade two of his men follow him, leaped into Solve’s ship, and thence into the one where the fight was sharpest. Glumm followed him closely with his long two-handed sword, and these two fought so dreadfully that Eindrid’s men were driven back into their own ship again. Then Erling ran to the place where the high stern was wedged between two of the enemy’s ships, and sprang on the forecastle of Eindrid’s ship.

“Thou art a bold man!” said Eindrid, turning on him.

“That may be as thou sayest,” replied Erling, at the same time catching a thrust on his shield, which he returned with such interest with his axe that Eindrid’s head was nearly severed from his body. At the same moment Glumm cut down a famous berserk who ran at him, and in a few minutes they had cleared the deck of the ship, and taken possession of it. But this was scarcely accomplished when a cry arose that the left wing under King Hakon was giving way.

At once Erling and Glumm ran back to their cutters, and made towards that part of the line, followed by several of the loose ships. Here they found that King Hakon was very hard pressed by Sigurd of Royer, so they pushed in among the ships, and soon Erling’s well-known war-cry was heard, and his tall form was seen sweeping men down before him with his great axe, like a mower cutting grass. Glumm, however, did not keep close to him this time, but made direct for Hakon’s ship, for he remembered that he was Ada’s father, and thought he might do him some service.

As he was coming near he saw Swankie, a famous berserk, fighting furiously on board Hakon’s ship, and roaring, as was the wont of berserkers sometimes, like a wild bull. Hakon’s men had formed a shield-circle round their chief, and were defending him bravely; but the berserk was an uncommonly stout man, very brisk and active, and exceedingly furious, as well as dexterous with his weapons. He slew so many men that the shield-circle was broken, and he made at Hakon just as Glumm leaped into the ship at the stern. King Hakon was a stout man and brave, but he was getting old, and not so active as he used to be. Nevertheless he met Swankie like a man, and dealt him a blow on his helmet which made him stagger. The berserk uttered a fearful roar, and struck at Hakon so fiercely that he split the upper part of his shield and cut open his helmet. Hakon fell, but before he could repeat the blow Glumm was upon him.

“What! is it thou, Swankie?” he cried. “Dog, methought I had killed thee long ago!”

“That is yet to be done,” cried the berserk, leaping upon Glumm with a sweeping blow of his sword. Glumm stooped quickly, and the blow passed over his head; then he fetched a sudden cut at Swankie, and split him down from the neck to the waist, saying, “It is done now, methinks,” as he drew out his sword. Glumm did not go forward, but let his men drive back the foe, while he turned and kneeled beside Hakon.

“Has the dog hurt thee badly?” he asked, raising the old warrior’s head on his knee, and speaking in a voice of almost womanly tenderness.

Hakon made an effort to speak, but for some time was unable to do so, and Glumm held his shield over him to keep off the stones and arrows which fell thickly around them. After a few moments Hakon wiped away the blood which flowed from a deep wound in his forehead, and looked up wildly in Glumm’s face. He tried again to speak, and Glumm, misunderstanding the few words he muttered, said: “Thou art already avenged, King Hakon; Swankie the berserk is dead.”

The dying man made another effort to speak, and was successful.

“That concerns me little, Glumm. Thou lovest Ada, I know. This ring—take it to her, say her father’s last thoughts were of her. Be a good husband, Glumm. The brooch—see.”

“Which?” asked Glumm, looking at several silver brooches with which the old warrior’s armour was fastened—“this one on thy breast?”

“Aye, take it—it was—her mother’s.”

The warrior’s spirit seemed to be relieved when he had said this. He sank down into a state resembling sleep. Once or twice afterwards he opened his eyes and gazed up into the bright sky with a doubtful yet earnest and enquiring gaze. Gradually the breathing became fainter, until it ceased altogether, and Glumm saw that the old man was dead.

Fastening the brooch on his own broad chest, and putting the ring on his finger, Glumm rose, seized his sword, and rushed again into the thick of the fight with tenfold more fury than he had yet displayed, and ere long the danger that threatened the left wing was for the time averted.

Meanwhile in the centre there was an equally uncertain and obstinate conflict—for the chiefs on either side were mighty men of valour. Wherever Old Guttorm’s voice was heard, there victory inclined. Haldor, on the other hand, did not shout, but he laid about him with such wild ferocity that many men quailed at the very sight of him, and wherever he went he was victorious. It was some time before he managed to get alongside of King Harald Fairhair’s ship, but when he did so the fight became sharp in the extreme.

All the men in King Harald’s ship, except the berserks, were clad in coats of ring mail, and wore foreign helmets, and most of them had white shields. Besides, as has been said, each man was celebrated for personal strength and daring, so that none of those who were opposed to them could make head against them. The arrows and spears fell harmless from their shields, casques, and coats of mail, and it was only now and then—as when a shaft happened to enter a man’s eye—that any fell. When Haldor’s forecastle men attacked the berserkers on the high fore deck of the Dragon, the fighting was terrible, for the berserkers all roared aloud and fought with the wild fury of madmen, and so fierce was their onslaught that Haldor’s men were forced at first to give back. But Thorer the Thick guarded himself warily, and being well armed escaped injury for a time. When he saw the berserkers beginning to flag, he leaped forward like a lion, and hewed them down right and left, so that his men drove the enemy back into the Dragon. Some of them slipped on the gun-wales, and so did some of Haldor’s men, all of whom fell into the sea, and a few of them were drowned, while others were killed, but one or two escaped by swimming.

Ulf’s ship was also pretty close to the Dragon, and he wished greatly to board it, but was so hard beset by the ship of Nicolas Skialdvarsson that he could not do so for a long time. Here Kettle Flatnose did prodigies of valour. He stood on the high fore-deck with his favourite weapon, the hook, and therewith pulled a great number of men off the enemy’s deck into the sea. At last he got a footing on their gunwale, dropped his hook, drew his sword, and soon cleared his way aft. Ulf leaped after him, drove the men into the waist, and then the most of them were slain, and lay in heaps one upon another. After that it was not difficult to clear the poop. Skialdvarsson defended it well, but he could not stand before Ulf, who finally cut off his head, and so the ship was won.

This vessel lay alongside that of King Harald; and although the King was fully engaged with Haldor at the time, he observed the conquest of Skialdvarsson by Ulf, and also perceived that Ulf’s men were crowding the side of the vessel, and throwing grappling-irons into his own ship with a view to board it; for there was a space between the ships a little too wide for men to leap. Springing to the side, the King cut the grappling-irons with a sweep of his sword.

“That was well tried,” he said.

“It shall be tried again,” cried Ulf, heaving another iron, which nearly struck the King, but Harald’s sword flashed through the air, and again the iron was cut.

At that moment Kettle Flatnose stepped back a few paces, and with a mighty rush leaped right over the space in all his war gear, and alighted on the Dragon’s deck within a yard of the King. It was a tremendous leap, and so nearly beyond the compass of Kettle’s powers that he was scarcely able to retain his foothold, but stood for a moment on the edge of the vessel with shield and sword upheaved, as he staggered to regain his balance. Thus exposed, he might have easily been slain; but the King, instead of using his sword, stepped forward, and with his left hand pushed the Irishman overboard. The cheer which greeted his daring leap had scarcely ceased to ring when he fell heavily into the sea.

“A goodly man, and a bold attempt,” said the King, with a smile, as he turned to Jarl Rongvold. “’Twould have been a pity to slay him outright. If he can swim he may yet live to fight another battle.”

“True, sire,” replied the jarl, who was looking over the side at the place where Kettle fell; “but methinks he has struck his head on an oar, and will never succeed in swimming towards a friendly hand.”

This indeed seemed to be true; for Kettle lay with his arm over an oar, and his head hanging down in the water, like a dead man. Yet there was life in him, for his fingers moved. Ulf had witnessed all this, and was on the point of attempting to leap across to Harald’s ship when Kettle fell. He paused, and, seeing that his comrade was apparently being drowned, at once dropped sword and shield, and sprang into the sea after him.

At that moment a number of the King’s boldest and best armed men observed that the two ships had drawn a little nearer to each other. In a moment they leaped across the intervening space, took their opponents by surprise, and quickly regained the ship.

While this had been going on at the poop, the fight on the forecastle had raged with extreme fury, for Haldor the Fierce had gained a footing on the Dragon’s deck, and was engaged in mortal combat with Hake the berserk, whom he was slowly but surely driving back. His son Erling the Bold, who observed what was going on, had run his cutter along the stern of his father’s ship, and was hastening to his aid, when King Harald became aware that his men were giving way, and rushed to their support. He went forward raging with anger, and as he ran he picked up a huge stone, which he hurled before him. Haldor was at the moment in the act of fetching a deadly cut at Hake, whom he had disarmed. The stone struck him full in the chest, and he fell backward just as Erling reached his side.

A great cheer arose at this time on the right; for there the wing of the Southland men was broken, and everywhere King Harald’s men were victorious.

“Hold thou them in check, Glumm,” cried Erling to his friend, as he quickly raised his father in his arms and bore him away to his cutter.

Glumm, who had followed his friend like his shadow, sprang forward and engaged Hake, who had recovered his sword, and who found this new enemy little, if at all, less formidable than the other.

Erling placed his father carefully in the cutter.

“Here, Thorer,” he said, “do thou guard my father, and hold thyself and the carles in readiness to push off. The day is lost, I see. I go to slay the King, and will return presently.”

He leaped away as he spoke, and regained the foredeck of the Dragon, where Glumm and his men were still engaged with the berserkers, just as the King came to the front. The instant he saw Erling he leaped upon him with a fierce shout, and shook back his shaggy flaxen locks as a lion might shake his mane. Erling was not a whit behind him in anxiety to meet. He sprang upon him with a crashing blow of his great pole-axe, which rang loudly on the King’s shield, but did him no hurt. They were a well-matched pair. Harald was fully as stout, though not quite so tall as his opponent, whose fine silky hair was almost as bushy as that of the King, though neither so long nor so tangled.

Men drew back and stood aside when they heard the shock and shout of their onset, and suspended the fight around them, while they gazed on in silent awe. For a time it seemed doubtful which was the better man; for the King’s blade whirled incessantly around his head like flashing light, and rang on Erling’s shield, which was ever upraised to meet it. At the same time the axe of our hero, if not so swift in its gyrations, was more tremendous in its action; more than once the King was seen to stagger beneath its thundering blows, and once he was beaten down on one knee. How long this might have lasted it is impossible to tell; but, seeing that the King was likely to get the worst of it, one of his men crept round by the outside of the ship, and coming suddenly up behind Erling, put out his hand and caught him by the leg, causing him to stagger backwards, so that he fell overboard. In falling our hero caught the man by the throat, and both fell into the sea together.

It was seen that Erling dived with his foe and dragged him down as if to force him to perish along with him, and everyone looked for a few moments at the water, expecting to see them rise. Glumm gazed among the rest; and he had leaped down into Haldor’s ship to be ready to lend a hand. But Erling did not rise again. Seeing this, Glumm sprang up with sudden fury and dashed at the enemy, but by this time they had recovered from their surprise, and now poured into the ship in such overwhelming numbers that the men were driven back and slain, or they leaped overboard and trusted to escape by swimming.

Meanwhile Erling the Bold having choked off his antagonist, dived under his father’s ship and came up at the stern of his own cutter, into which he speedily clambered by means of a rope which hung over the side. He found that his father was seated on the poop with his head resting on the gunwale, recovering consciousness slowly, and Thorer was engaged in the difficult task of preventing the men from leaving the vessel to succour their comrades.

“Keep back, men,” cried Erling in a voice which none dared to disobey. “Stay where ye are and get out the oars.—Come, Thorer, follow me with a stout man, and keep them back while I rescue Glumm.”

He jumped into Haldor’s ship, and ran to the fore part of the poop, where Glumm was fighting against overwhelming odds, with the blind desperation of a man who has resolved to sell his life as dearly as he can. Thorer and a tall stout man followed him, and instantly assailed King Harald’s men with such fury that they gave back a little. At the same moment Erling seized Glumm by the neck; almost strangled him; dragged him violently to the stern, and half sprang, half tumbled with him into the cutter, where, despite his frantic struggles to rise, he held him down.

“Now, my brisk lads,” shouted Erling, who was gasping by this time, “come back and jump in! Push off an ell or so. Steady!”

Thorer and the other man heard the shout, and, turning at once, ran to the stern and leaped into the cutter, which was instantly thrust off, so that one or two of their opponents who ventured to jump after them were left floundering in the sea.

By this time King Harald’s victory was complete. Both wings had been beaten for some time, and now the centre had given way—only one or two of the more desperate leaders were still keeping up the fight.

As Erling rowed towards the shore he could see that all the loose vessels of the fleet were flying up the fiord, pursued by a few of the loose vessels of the enemy. But the greater part of both fleets being tied together, could take no part in the chase until they were cut asunder.

“The day is lost, father,” said Erling, as he stood by the steering oar.

“I know it, my son,” replied Haldor, who was now able to sit up and look about him; “Norway is henceforth enthralled.”

He said this in a tone of such deep sadness that Erling forbore to continue the subject.

“They are cutting asunder the fleet,” observed Glumm, who had recovered self-possession, and stood looking back at the scene of the recent conflict; “surely some of them are trying to escape.”

As he spoke, one of the large vessels shot out from among the others, and rowed rapidly away. There was desperate fighting on board of it for a few minutes, and then a number of men were pushed or thrown overboard, and a loud cheer of victory arose.

“Well done, Solve Klofe!” cried Erling with enthusiasm. “That is his shout. I should know it among a thousand. He at least is bent on being free!”

Several of Harald’s ships, which had been also cut loose, immediately gave chase, but Solve’s men pulled so well that they soon left them behind, and hoisting their sail to a light breeze which was blowing just off the mouth of the fiord, soon doubled the point and bore away to the south.

“Is that someone swimming in the water?” asked Erling, pointing as he spoke to an object which moved forward among the débris of oars, portions of clothing, and wreck, which was floating about everywhere.

One of the men at the bow oar stood up, and after a short glance, said that he thought it was a man.

“Look out on the starboard bow. Mind your oars and be ready, someone, to lean over the waist and catch hold of him.”

As he spoke, the cutter ranged up to the object, which appeared to be the dishevelled and blood-bespattered head of a man. He suddenly gave vent to a wild shout—“Come on, thou tyrant! Down with ye, dog—huzza!” At the last shout a pair of arms were swung wildly in the air, and the next moment the man’s voice was stifled in the water as he sank, while another head appeared beside him.

“That is the voice of Kettle Flatnose, or his wraith,” exclaimed Erling; “pull gently, lads; hold water.”

“Why, Ulf, is it thou?”

“Truly,” exclaimed Ulf, grasping the extended hand of Glumm, “I don’t feel quite sure! Haul gently, Glumm. I’ve got Kettle here. Another hand or two. Now then, heave together!”

Several stout men leaned over the side, and, acting in accordance with these instructions, hauled Ulf and Kettle out of the sea; the former in a state of great exhaustion, the latter almost dead, for his last dip had well-nigh choked him.

“It has been a long swim,” said Ulf, sitting down and leaning languidly against the bulwarks, while Glumm and Haldor proceeded to chafe the Irishman into a state of consciousness. “Once or twice I sank under him, for he was very wild when he came to himself, after I got hold of him, and struggled to be up and fight the King; but I held him fast. Yet methought once or twice,” added Ulf, with a smile, “that I had at last got into Valhalla.”

A horn of ale refreshed Ulf, and another of the same was shortly after given to Kettle, by which his wandering faculties were soon restored.

By this time they were drawing near the bay at Ulfstede, and Erling urged on the rowers, for they could see that Harald’s ships were now cast loose, and giving chase to those that endeavoured to escape, while several of the largest, including the Dragon, made direct for the land.

“Our whole effort now,” said Haldor, “must be to rescue the women.”

“That will not be easy,” observed Ulf gloomily.

“But it is not impossible,” said Erling with decision. “We shall have time to get into the woods, and so round to the cave. By the way, does anyone know aught of Hakon of Drontheim?”

“He is dead,” said Glumm.

“Dead!”

At that moment Haldor started up with a wild exclamation, and pointed towards the spot on which his own dwelling stood, where, above the trees, there arose a cloud of dense black smoke. The truth was soon all too plain, for, on rounding the point which had hitherto concealed the bay from their view, several of the enemy’s largest ships were seen with their bows on the shore. It was evident that part of the left wing of the enemy, which was first victorious, had, unobserved by them, made for the shore, and landed a large force of men, who had hastened to Ulfstede, and, finding it deserted, had pushed on to Haldorstede, which they had set on fire.

“Now indeed would death be welcome!” cried Haldor, stamping fiercely on the deck, while every feature of his face blazed with wrath.

We need scarcely say that the hearts of all had sunk within them, but Erling said—“Death would be unwelcome yet, father. The men, no doubt, are killed, but be sure they will not hurt the women while King Harald is on his way to the stede. We may yet die in defending them, if we cannot save them.”

“True, my son,” said Haldor, clasping his hands, and looking upwards with a solemnity of expression that was in strong contrast with his recent burst of passion; “we may perchance save them, as thou sayest; but woe is me for poor Alric!”

“Alric is safe, I am certain,” said Erling energetically, as he turned a meaning glance on Glumm.

“How knowest thou that?” asked Haldor.

Erling hesitated to reply, not wishing to raise hopes that after all might prove to be fallacious.

Before the question could be repeated the cutter’s keel grated on the sand of a small bay which was close to the large one, and concealed from it by a small rocky islet. Here they all jumped ashore—all except Kettle Flatnose, who, on attempting to rise, found himself so weak that he fell down again, and nearly fainted.

“This is bad,” said Erling. “But come, we have no time to waste. Give me the chief command of our men, father; I have a plan in my head.”

“Do as thou wilt,” said Haldor, with a strange mixture of despair, resignation, and ferocity in his tone.

“Come then, form up, men, and follow me!”

So saying, Erling lifted Kettle in his arms, and hurried away with him as if he had been no heavier than a little boy! He led the way to the secret entrance to the cave, where, true as steel to his trust, little Alric was found with a few men guarding the two warships of Erling and Glumm.

Chapter Twenty Three.The End of an Old Sea-King.Haldor the Fierce said nothing when he heard Alric’s blithe voice in the cavern, but he caught him up in his arms, and gave him a hug that almost made him cry out.“Why, father, what ails thee?” asked the boy in surprise, when Haldor set him free.“Never mind, lad,” interposed Erling, “but lend a hand to keep Kettle in order. He is a little wild just now, and as I intend to leave him in thy charge we must restrain him a bit. Hand me that rope.”The boy obeyed in silence, but with much wonder depicted on his face while Erling lashed Kettle’s hands together, and, lifting him in a half-unconscious state into his ship, bound him in as comfortable a position as he could to one of the rowers’ banks.“Now, Alric, come aside with me, quick! I have only time for a few words. It is enough to tell thee that the day is lost. I go with our father and the men to save our mother and the other women, or to die. Thou wilt stay here with a few men to guard the ships, and be ready to cast off at a moment’s notice. If we return not before night, do thou creep out and try to ascertain what has become of us, and if ye have reason to think we are killed, cut Kettle’s bonds and let him do what he will, poor fellow. At present his head has got a knock that renders him a dangerous comrade, so he must remain tied. Of course, if the cave is attacked thou wilt set him free at once. There is a little boat at the stern of my Swan. Escape if thou canst. But be watchful. We may return in a few hours. If so, all shall yet be well. Dost understand me, boy?”“I do, but methinks ill luck awaits us.”Erling made no reply, but, kissing Alric’s forehead, he returned to his men, of whom there were about sixty, and led them out of the cave, leaving six with his little brother to guard the ships.While our hero is thus hastening to the rescue, let us turn aside for a little to follow the course of Guttorm Stoutheart. That brave old Sea-king had escaped scathless throughout the whole of the disastrous day until near the end, when he received his death-wound from a javelin which pierced his thigh, and cut some important blood vessel, to stanch which defied the skill of his attendants. He immediately ordered his ship to be cut loose, and his was among the first to escape round the southern point of the fiord, just before the battle ended.At first the men pulled as if their lives depended on it. So great was their haste that they did not take time to throw their dead comrades overboard, but left them lying in a ghastly heap on the lower deck. When, however, they got round the next point, and found that no pursuit was made, they slackened speed and began to heave out the dead, when Guttorm, who reclined near the helm, steering the vessel, ordered them to desist.“My men,” said he, in a voice which had already lost much of its deep richness of tone, “we will land on the next point. My days are run out. I go to Odin’s halls, and I am glad, for it becomes not an old warrior to die in his bed, which I had begun to fear was going to be my fate; besides, now that Norway is to be no longer a free land, it is time that the small kings should be going home. Ye will carry me to the top of yonder headland cliff, and leave me where I can see the setting sun, and the fords and fells of my native land. Would that my bones might have been burned, as those of my fathers were! but this may not be. Ye can lay beside me the comrades who have gone before, and then push off and leave me with the dead.”There was a low murmur among the men as they again dipped their oars, but not a word was spoken in reply. Just as they reached the point a vessel came in sight behind them under sail.“Too late!” muttered Guttorm bitterly, as he looked back; “we are pursued, and must hold on.”“Not so,” answered one of his chief men; “that is Solve Klofe’s ship.”“Is that so?” cried Guttorm, while the colour mounted to his pale cheek, and the fire shone in his old eyes; “then have I better luck than I had looked for. Quick, get to land! The breeze that brings Solve down will reach us soon. Get out your arms, and go hail Solve as he passes. Ye shall sail with him to-night. I will hie me out upon the sea.”He spoke somewhat like his former self for a moment, but soon his voice sank, for the life-blood was draining fast away.Ere many minutes had passed, the breeze freshened into a squall of considerable force. It came off the land, and swept down the fiord, lashing its waters into seething waves. Solve answered the hail of Guttorm’s men, and landed.“What news?” he asked: “there is but short space for converse.”The men told him that old Guttorm was dying in his ship. He walked up the plank that lay from the shore to the gunwale, and found the old warrior lying on the poop beside the helm, wrapped in his mantle, and giving directions to his men, who were piling brushwood on the deck.“This is an ill sight,” said Solve, with much feeling, as he knelt beside the dying chief, who received him with a smile, and held out his hand.“Ha! Solve, I am glad thou art here. My last battle has been fought, and it has been a good one, though we did get the tooth-ache. If it had only been a victory, I had recked little of this wound.”“Can nothing be done for thee?” asked Solve. “Perchance I may be able to stop the bleeding.”Guttorm shook his head, and pointed to the blood which had already flowed from him, and lay in a deep pool in the sides of the ship.“No, no, Solve, my fighting days are over, and, as I have said, the last fight has been a good one! Ye see what I am about, and understand how to carry out my will. Go, relieve me of the trouble, and see that it is done well. I would rest now.”Solve pressed the hand of his friend in silence, and then went forward to assist actively in the preparations already referred to. The men heaped up the funeral pile round the mast, fastened the stern ropes to the shore, plied the dead upon the deck, and, when all was ready, hoisted sail. The squall had increased so that the mast bent, and the ship strained at her stern ropes like an impatient charger. Then the men went on shore, and Solve, turning to Guttorm, bent over him, and spoke a few words in a low, earnest tone, but the old man’s strength was almost gone. He could only utter the single word “Farewell”, and wave his hand as if he wished to be left alone. Solve rose at once, and, applying a light to the pile, leaped ashore. Next moment the cables were cut; the brushwood crackled with a fierce noise as the fire leaped up and the “ocean steed” bounded away over the dark blue sea. Guttorm was still seated by the helm, his face pale as death, but with a placid smile on his mouth, and a strange, almost unearthly, fire in his eyes.The longship rushed over the waves with the foam dashing on her bows, a long white track in her wake, and a dense black cloud curling overhead. Suddenly the cloud was rent by a fork of flame, which was as suddenly quenched, but again it burst upwards, and at last triumphed; shooting up into the sky with a mighty roar, while below there glowed a fierce fiery furnace, against which was strongly depicted the form of the grand old Sea-king, still sitting motionless at the helm. Swiftly the blazing craft dashed over the waves, getting more and more enveloped in smoke and flame. Ere long it could be seen in the far distance, a rushing ball of fire. Gradually it receded, becoming less and less, until at last it vanished, like a setting star, into the unknown waste of the great western sea.

Haldor the Fierce said nothing when he heard Alric’s blithe voice in the cavern, but he caught him up in his arms, and gave him a hug that almost made him cry out.

“Why, father, what ails thee?” asked the boy in surprise, when Haldor set him free.

“Never mind, lad,” interposed Erling, “but lend a hand to keep Kettle in order. He is a little wild just now, and as I intend to leave him in thy charge we must restrain him a bit. Hand me that rope.”

The boy obeyed in silence, but with much wonder depicted on his face while Erling lashed Kettle’s hands together, and, lifting him in a half-unconscious state into his ship, bound him in as comfortable a position as he could to one of the rowers’ banks.

“Now, Alric, come aside with me, quick! I have only time for a few words. It is enough to tell thee that the day is lost. I go with our father and the men to save our mother and the other women, or to die. Thou wilt stay here with a few men to guard the ships, and be ready to cast off at a moment’s notice. If we return not before night, do thou creep out and try to ascertain what has become of us, and if ye have reason to think we are killed, cut Kettle’s bonds and let him do what he will, poor fellow. At present his head has got a knock that renders him a dangerous comrade, so he must remain tied. Of course, if the cave is attacked thou wilt set him free at once. There is a little boat at the stern of my Swan. Escape if thou canst. But be watchful. We may return in a few hours. If so, all shall yet be well. Dost understand me, boy?”

“I do, but methinks ill luck awaits us.”

Erling made no reply, but, kissing Alric’s forehead, he returned to his men, of whom there were about sixty, and led them out of the cave, leaving six with his little brother to guard the ships.

While our hero is thus hastening to the rescue, let us turn aside for a little to follow the course of Guttorm Stoutheart. That brave old Sea-king had escaped scathless throughout the whole of the disastrous day until near the end, when he received his death-wound from a javelin which pierced his thigh, and cut some important blood vessel, to stanch which defied the skill of his attendants. He immediately ordered his ship to be cut loose, and his was among the first to escape round the southern point of the fiord, just before the battle ended.

At first the men pulled as if their lives depended on it. So great was their haste that they did not take time to throw their dead comrades overboard, but left them lying in a ghastly heap on the lower deck. When, however, they got round the next point, and found that no pursuit was made, they slackened speed and began to heave out the dead, when Guttorm, who reclined near the helm, steering the vessel, ordered them to desist.

“My men,” said he, in a voice which had already lost much of its deep richness of tone, “we will land on the next point. My days are run out. I go to Odin’s halls, and I am glad, for it becomes not an old warrior to die in his bed, which I had begun to fear was going to be my fate; besides, now that Norway is to be no longer a free land, it is time that the small kings should be going home. Ye will carry me to the top of yonder headland cliff, and leave me where I can see the setting sun, and the fords and fells of my native land. Would that my bones might have been burned, as those of my fathers were! but this may not be. Ye can lay beside me the comrades who have gone before, and then push off and leave me with the dead.”

There was a low murmur among the men as they again dipped their oars, but not a word was spoken in reply. Just as they reached the point a vessel came in sight behind them under sail.

“Too late!” muttered Guttorm bitterly, as he looked back; “we are pursued, and must hold on.”

“Not so,” answered one of his chief men; “that is Solve Klofe’s ship.”

“Is that so?” cried Guttorm, while the colour mounted to his pale cheek, and the fire shone in his old eyes; “then have I better luck than I had looked for. Quick, get to land! The breeze that brings Solve down will reach us soon. Get out your arms, and go hail Solve as he passes. Ye shall sail with him to-night. I will hie me out upon the sea.”

He spoke somewhat like his former self for a moment, but soon his voice sank, for the life-blood was draining fast away.

Ere many minutes had passed, the breeze freshened into a squall of considerable force. It came off the land, and swept down the fiord, lashing its waters into seething waves. Solve answered the hail of Guttorm’s men, and landed.

“What news?” he asked: “there is but short space for converse.”

The men told him that old Guttorm was dying in his ship. He walked up the plank that lay from the shore to the gunwale, and found the old warrior lying on the poop beside the helm, wrapped in his mantle, and giving directions to his men, who were piling brushwood on the deck.

“This is an ill sight,” said Solve, with much feeling, as he knelt beside the dying chief, who received him with a smile, and held out his hand.

“Ha! Solve, I am glad thou art here. My last battle has been fought, and it has been a good one, though we did get the tooth-ache. If it had only been a victory, I had recked little of this wound.”

“Can nothing be done for thee?” asked Solve. “Perchance I may be able to stop the bleeding.”

Guttorm shook his head, and pointed to the blood which had already flowed from him, and lay in a deep pool in the sides of the ship.

“No, no, Solve, my fighting days are over, and, as I have said, the last fight has been a good one! Ye see what I am about, and understand how to carry out my will. Go, relieve me of the trouble, and see that it is done well. I would rest now.”

Solve pressed the hand of his friend in silence, and then went forward to assist actively in the preparations already referred to. The men heaped up the funeral pile round the mast, fastened the stern ropes to the shore, plied the dead upon the deck, and, when all was ready, hoisted sail. The squall had increased so that the mast bent, and the ship strained at her stern ropes like an impatient charger. Then the men went on shore, and Solve, turning to Guttorm, bent over him, and spoke a few words in a low, earnest tone, but the old man’s strength was almost gone. He could only utter the single word “Farewell”, and wave his hand as if he wished to be left alone. Solve rose at once, and, applying a light to the pile, leaped ashore. Next moment the cables were cut; the brushwood crackled with a fierce noise as the fire leaped up and the “ocean steed” bounded away over the dark blue sea. Guttorm was still seated by the helm, his face pale as death, but with a placid smile on his mouth, and a strange, almost unearthly, fire in his eyes.

The longship rushed over the waves with the foam dashing on her bows, a long white track in her wake, and a dense black cloud curling overhead. Suddenly the cloud was rent by a fork of flame, which was as suddenly quenched, but again it burst upwards, and at last triumphed; shooting up into the sky with a mighty roar, while below there glowed a fierce fiery furnace, against which was strongly depicted the form of the grand old Sea-king, still sitting motionless at the helm. Swiftly the blazing craft dashed over the waves, getting more and more enveloped in smoke and flame. Ere long it could be seen in the far distance, a rushing ball of fire. Gradually it receded, becoming less and less, until at last it vanished, like a setting star, into the unknown waste of the great western sea.

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