Viking Boys Part 23

Year by year the Viking's raven Made that mystic spot his rest; Year by year within the eyot Brooded he as on a nest; And no man would ever venture To invade the lone domain Where in solitary scheming The grim bird of doom did reign.

It was Yule-time, and the Isles' folk Sained[5] the children by their fires; Lit the yatlin,[6] filled the daffock,[7]

As of ealdon did their sires.

There was wa.s.sail in each dwelling, And the song and dance went round; And the laugh, the jest, the music, Rose above the tempest's sound.

Ho! the winds are raging wildly, Ho! the thunders are awake-- Tis the night when trows[8] have licence Over saitor,[9] hill, and brake.

Power is theirs on land and water, While the Yule-star leads the night; For where trows may trice their circlet There they claim exclusive right.

Yelling round the Hel-ya Water, Sobbing by its eyot drear, Screaming with the tempest-furies, Over hillock, over mere; On the wings of silent snow-flakes, On the bulwands[10] from the rill, By the haunted Hel-ya Water Flit those heralds of all ill.

There the dismal bird of boding Is exulting with the storm.

Who will dare to-night, and conquer The old raven's sable form?

Who will venture to the vatn,[11]

Where the phantoms of unrest Set their weird and magic signet On each knoll and wavelet's crest?

See, young Yaspard's eye is blazing, With the fires so fleet and free: Come of Magnus, yarl and sea-king, Son of Norland scald is he: Well he knows the gruesome story Of that evil-omened bird, And of trows and vengeful demons He hath dreamed and he hath heard.

But his heart is hot and steadfast, And his hands are strong to try; He will dare with fiends to combat-- He will dare, and he will die.

Forth against the howling tempest, Forth against each evil power, Wild and reckless, went young Yaspard In a dark unguarded hour.

Cold the surf of Hel-ya Water Breaks around the Norseman's grave, And the boy is lifted rudely By each charmed and chafing wars.

Now he struggles boldly onward, Now he nears the haunted isle, Where in grim and boding silence Waits the bird of woe and wile.

Fain is Yaspard to encounter That fierce harbinger of gloom-- Fain to dare the spells of magic, Fain to foil the wrath of doom.

Hark! the solitary raven Croaks a note of death and pain, And a human call defiant Answers from the flood again.

Morning breaks: a snow-drift cover All the drear deserted earth; In young Yaspard's home is weeping, Quenched the fire upon his hearth.

But he broke the spells of evil, And he found a hero's grave.

When you pa.s.s the Hel-ya Water Cast a pebble to its wave." [12]

[1] Haven.

[2] Holy lake.

[3] Lowland mists meet each other.

[4] Wanderer.

[5] Guarded by Christian rites from evil spirits, who are supposed to have great licence at Yule.

[6] Candles used on festive occasions.

[7] Water bucket which was always required to be full of _clean_ water at Yule.

[8] Trolls.

[9] Plains or pasture-land.

[10] Bullrushes which trows are supposed to use as aerial horses.

[11] Fresh-water lake.

[12] When pa.s.sing any haunted water people cast therein a stone to appease the troubled spirits.

CHAPTER XXVI.

"THAT WORK SHALL BE WROUGHT."

"What a capital job you've made of the story," quoth Yaspard when Garth had finished. "I feel as if I ought to thank you in the name of my great-grand-uncle."

"Just so! Bad boy! Uncle! uncle! uncle!" said Thor from a hillock close by. He spoke so very distinctly, and as if he understood every word, that even the elderly ladies of the party gazed in a sort of awe at the uncanny bird.

"Come here, Thor!" Mr. Adiesen called out, extending a tempting bit of chicken towards Sir Raven, who immediately obeyed the invitation, and hopped to his master's knee. "Why, you old rascal," the scientist went on, "I believe you are the great-grand-nephew of that raven of Hel-ya Water fame; indeed, if I had not taken you myself from the nest when you were only half-fledged, and I was a boy, I would believe that you were the identical bird of the legend."

"If Thor lives as long as the former Thor did," said Mr. Neeven, "he will be over a century when he dies. You remember that fellow, Brus?"

Of course Mr. Adieson remembered his grandfather's raven, who had been the spy and plague of the lives of both Gaun and Brus (when they were children), and whom they believed was possessed of an evil spirit.

The conversation drifted into chat about pet birds, until some of the restless young people proposed a rowing match around the island, and out of that project sprang another.

"I should like," said Fred, "to take the little lady of the isle around it in the _Mermaid_ first. She really ought to be the first to circ.u.mnavigate Havnholme. Will you trust her in my boat, Miss Adiesen?"

"I suppose it is quite safe?" Aunt Osla asked by way of reply; and Signy answered, "I shall be as safe in the _Mermaid_ as I was on Arab."

"Perhaps Mr. Adiesen will accompany us, to make safety safer," Fred suggested; and the girl seconded his proposal by a "Yes, please, Uncle Brus."

The old gentleman agreed, and away they went; and Dr. Holtum said aside to the minister that nothing more satisfactory had he ever witnessed than the sailing round Havnholme of those two men together, with so sweet a bond between them as fair little Signy.

When the long, happy day was nearing its close, and the party was preparing to embark, Isobel Garson said, "I didn't like to spoil Fred's beautiful oration and funereal ceremonies with any small idea of my own, but _now_ perhaps I may be allowed to suggest that we each take a beach stone and cast it on those 'turned' sods, and so erect a cairn in memory of this day."

"A capital suggestion, my dear!" said Mr. Adiesen, who had taken quite a fancy to Isobel, whose bright, high-spirited ways attracted him very much, and he was ready to second any suggestion she might offer.

"Good for you, Isobel!" exclaimed her brother; "but I don't see why we need confine ourselves to one stone each. Let us make the cairn a good big one, boys."

In a short time a considerable heap of round, smooth stones from the sh.o.r.e were piled over the sepulchre of the feud, and Yaspard remarked, "There never was a fend strong enough to escape from under that big rougue."

"Shoo! shoo! shoo! Uncle!" screamed Thor, quite impatient over such (to him) meaningless proceedings. Then, despairing of convincing anybody there that they ought to go home, he spread his great wings and deliberately sailed away through the air to Boden.

"Thor is right for once," said Dr. Holtum, "and it is quite time we were all on the wing for our homes; so, shoo! shoo! shoo!" and he put out his hands, as if he were driving away a flock of birds, with the result that every one "made tracks" for the boats.

There was a good deal of whispering between Yaspard and the Manse boys before they parted; and there was a very significant "Good-bye," from the Yarl of Broch. He had kept our Viking-boy very much with him throughout the day, and had quite enchanted him by suggesting a scheme which contained the germ of much exciting adventure, although there was no enemy to meet or circ.u.mvent. And this scheme must have been on Viking lines, if we may judge from old Hoskald Halsen's farewell words to Yaspard.