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VIKING BOYS
by
J. M. E. SAXBY
Author of "The Yarl's Yacht" Etc.
[Frontispiece: "Then there came a sudden flare of light, which showed
that Yaspard was trying to illuminate the scene."--_Page_ 216]
London
Nisbet & Co. Ltd.
22 Berners Street. W.1
1892
CONTENTS.
CHAP.
I. "CALLED AFTER THAT WORK WHICH HE HAD TO DO"
II. "AH, MANY A MEMORY OF HOW YE DEALT WITH ME"
III. "WIDE TOLD OF IS THIS"
IV. "HAPPY WAS HE IN HIS WARRING"
V. "THOU ART YOUNG AND OVER-BOLD"
VI. "NOW EACH GOES HIS WAY"
VII. "THE CARL ON THE CLIFF TOP"
VIII. "THEREFORE THEY GO THEIR WAYS"
IX. "NO NEED OF BINDING OR SALVING HERE"
X. "MAY THE GODS GIVE US TWAIN A GOOD DAY"
XI. "FAIR FELLOW DEEM I THE DARK-WINGED RAVEN"
XII. "ENOUGH AND TO SPARE OF BALE IS IN THY SPEECH"
XIII. "HE IS YOUNG AND OF LITTLE KNOWLEDGE"
XIV. "OH, BE THOU WELCOME, HERE"
XV. "AND PEACE SHALL BE SURER"
XVI. "FOR NAUGHT HE WOTTED, NOR MIGHT SEE CLEARLY"
XVII. "NO GOOD IT BETOKENETH"
XVIII. "OH, NEED SORE AND MIGHTY"
XIX. "SO HE SHUT ME IN SHIELD-WALL"
XX. "FROM THE HANDS OF MY KINSFOLK"
XXI. "NOUGHT HAD'ST THOU TO PRAISE"
XXII. "GIVE YE GOOD COUNSEL"
XXIII. "AND BOUND FAST THEIR SWORDS IN WEBS GOODLY WOVEN"
XXIV. "MEET AND RIGHT IT IS, FAIR LORD, THAT I SHOULD GO"
XXV. "AND THERETO THEY PLIGHTED TROTH BOTH OF THEM"
XXVI. "THAT WORK SHALL BE WROUGHT"
XXVII. "OF THE VOLSUNGS' KIN IS HE"
XXVIII. "SEA-RUNES GOOD AT NEED"
XXIX. "GREAT IS THE TROUBLE OF FOOT ILL-TRIPPING"
XXX. "SWEET SIGHT FOR ME THOU TWAIN TO SET EYES ON"
XXXI. "HILD UNDER HELM"
XXXII. "HAIL FROM THE MAIN THEN COMEST THOU HOME"
VIKING-BOYS.
CHAPTER 1
"CALLED AFTER THAT WORK WHICH HE HAD TO DO."
"How I wish I had lived hundreds of years ago, when the Vikings lived;
it must have been prime!"
He was a Shetland boy of fifteen who so spoke, and he was addressing
his young sister of eleven. They were sitting on a low crag by the
shore, dangling their feet over the water, which flowed clear and
bright within a short distance of their toes. They were looking out
upon a grand stretch of ocean studded with islands of fantastic shape,
among which numerous boats were threading their way. It was a fair
summer afternoon, and the fishing boats were returning from the far
haaf[1] laden with spoil. It had not required a great stretch of
imagination to carry Yaspard Adiesen's thoughts from the scene before
him to the olden days, when his native Isles were the haunts of
Vikinger, whose ships were for ever winging their way over those waters
bearing the spoils of many a stormy fight.
"Yes," the boy went on; "what glorious fun it must have been in those
days; such fighting and sailing and discovering new places; such heaps
of adventures of all sorts. Oh, how grand it must have been!"
"I suppose it was," answered Signy; "but then these people long ago did
not have all the nice things we have--books, you know, and--and
everything!"
"Oh, tuts! They had Scalds to sing their history--much nicer than your
musty books."
"Perhaps!" said the girl. She loved books with a mighty love, but she
adored her brother, and what he said she accepted, whether it commended
itself to her judgment or not.
"There is no 'perhaps' about it, Signy," he retorted a little sharply.
"It is fact--so there! It must have been far more jolly in Shetland
then than it is now. Everything so tame and commonplace: mail-day once
a week, sermon every Sunday, custom-house officers about, chimney-pot
hats and tea! Bah!" Yaspard caught up a pebble and flung it to skim
over the water as a relief to his feelings, which received a little
additional comfort from Signy's next words.
"Hats are certainly very ugly, especially when they are tied on with
strings, as Uncle Brüs wears his; and when a sermon lasts an hour it is
tiresome. Yes, and the custom-house people and the revenue cutter are
horrid--though the cutter is very pretty, and the officers look rather
nice in uniform. But it is very nice to get letters, Yaspard; and tea
is nice. Why, what on earth would Mam Kirsty and Aunt Osla do without
tea?" and Signy laughed as she looked up in her brother's face.
He was not unreasonable, and admitted the comfort of the cup which
cheers and a weekly mail-bag. He even allowed that the sloop which
looked after her Majesty's dues was a tidy little craft, and that a
kirk and Sunday service were advantages of no ordinary kind. "But,"
having admitted so much, he said, "why couldn't we have all that, and
still be Vikings? why not live like heroes? why not roam the seas, and
fight and discover and bring home spoil, and wear picturesque garments,
as well as go to church and drink tea?"
"Well, people _do_," answered Signy. "There is always somebody going
exploring and getting into the most terrible scrapes. And don't you
often say that the British people are true sons of the Norsemen, and
prove it by the way they are always sending out more and more ships,
and bringing home more and more riches. As for the fighting--oh dear!
There was Waterloo not so very very long ago; and the papers say, you
know, that we are going to fight the Russians very soon. There's
always plenty of fighting--if that's what makes a Viking."
"Oh, bother! girls don't understand," Yaspard muttered; and then there
was a long silence, which was broken at last by the lad clapping his
hands together and shouting, "Hurrah! I've got an idea! a splendid
idea! The very thing!" He sprang to his feet and tossed back his
golden-brown curls, and stood like a young Apollo all aglow with life
and ardour.
"You always look so beautiful, Yaspard, when you have an idea!" said
the worshipping little sister, gazing her admiration of the handsome
lad, who was the hero of all her dreams.
He laughed. He was accustomed to her homage--if the truth be told, he
took it as his right.
"Never mind about my beauty at present, but come along, for I must set
my idea to work at once. I wonder I never thought of it before."
"Ah, do wait a very little longer, brodhor," the girl begged. When
coaxing or caressing him, she always used the old form of the word,
which signified the dearest relationship she knew. They were orphans,
and "brother" was Signy's nearest as well as dearest friend alive. He
never could resist the soft tone and word, so answered--
"Why do you want to stay here?"
"I have been watching Loki fish, and it is so funny; I want to see when
he _will_ be satisfied. He has been at it for hours."
Loki was a pet cormorant, and Yaspard had taught him to seek food for
himself in the voe. The affectionate bird, though allowed such
licence, never failed to return to Boden when hunger was satisfied; and
at all times he would come at once to his master's call.
Yaspard stood for a minute looking at the bird as it swam about, every
now and then taking a sudden leap and "header" after some unwary
sillack. There were shoals of small cod-fish in the voe, and Loki had
no difficulty in filling his most capacious maw. His mode of fishing
was certainly comical, but Yaspard was not so interested in the matter
as Signy, therefore his eyes were soon roving again to the islets and
boats.
Presently his attention became riveted on a smart skiff rounding the
headlands in a manner which proved that she was managed by skilful
hands. As the boat drew nearer, rising lightly on the waves, Yaspard
said, "Yes, it's the _Laulie_. What splendid sea-boys those lads of
Lunda are! They are always off somewhere; always having some grand fun
on the water. They are making for Havnholme now, and I expect they
mean to stay there all night. Oh, bother feuds and family fights! I
wish I were with them."
"They must be nice boys," said Signy. "It does seem very sad that you
can't have them for chums. I can't see why our grandfathers' quarrels
and Uncle Brüs's grumpiness should hinder you from being friends with
the only boys of our rank within reach of Boden."
"It is a horrible nuisance. But never mind! I'll make the family feud
work into my idea, sure as can be! There, Signy; there goes Loki with
five dozen sillacks in his maw, so let's go too."
The cormorant had had enough. He began to flap along the surface of
the sea until it was possible for him to rise in steady flight. Then
he floated high overhead and took a straight course for the Ha' of
Boden.
Yaspard caught up Signy in his arms; and as he swung along towards home
he chanted--
"As with his wings aslant
Sails the fierce cormorant
Seeking some rocky haunt,
With his prey laden;
So toward the open main,
Beating to sea again,
Through the wild hurricane
Bore I the maiden."
When he finished the verse he put his sister down. "There," he
exclaimed; "there is a small hint at a part of my new idea."
"What is your idea, Yaspard?"
But Yaspard laughed and shook his head. "I can't tell you yet. It
isn't shaped at all yet, but by-and-by you shall hear all about it, and
help with it too, Mootie;[2] only, mind, it's a secret. You must not
tell a soul."
"I never tell any of your secrets," Signy answered, with gentle
reproach in her tone; and her brother answered promptly, "No, you never
tell on me, that is true--though you sometimes let things out by
mistake. But you are a trump all the same, Signy; you are; and as good
as a boy. I sometimes wish you were a boy. But if you were you'd
plague me. Small boys always do plague their big brothers--but _you_
never plague me. Never!"
She squeezed his hand tight and was perfectly happy while they walked
on, and Yaspard whistled "the Hardy Norseman."
After executing a few bars he said, "I am going across the voe, and you
must not mind if I do not take you with me. I want to have a long talk
with the Harrison boys. But if you come down to the noost[3] when I
return, I'll take you for a little sail."
"I'll be there, brodhor," said Signy. She was always "there" when
Yaspard required or requested.
They walked along the shore until they reached a quay of very modest
pretensions, where a small boat was lying ready for use. Their home
was not many yards from the beach, and was situated on a green sloping
point of land almost surrounded by the waters of Boden voe.
Yaspard jumped into the boat, hauled up the sail, shoved off, and was
soon speeding across the mile of water, which was the broadest bit of
that winding picturesque fiord.
Signy stood a minute to watch him. She would have stood longer, but
out of the house bounced a big dog, barking and evidently greatly
excited over something.
"Well, Pirate, what is the matter with you?" the girl asked, as the dog
rushed up to her. For answer Pirate caught her skirt gently in his
mouth, and indicated as plainly as if he had expressed himself in
choicest English that he desired her presence indoors.
So indoors Signy went without more ado.
[1] "Haaf," deep-sea fishing.
[2] "Mootie," little one.
[3] "Noost," boat-shelter.