the end of a certain time the farmer gave Sigurdur a wether, a ewe, and a lamb as a present, with which the youth was much pleased.

"Gudmundur became much attached to him, and on Christmas Eve begged him to come home from his sheep before sunset.

"All day long the boy watched the sheep, and when evening approached, he heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the mountains Turning around he saw coming towards him a gigantic and terrible troll.

     "She addressed him, saying, 'Good evening, my Sigurdur. I am come
     to put you into my bag.'

     "Sigurdur answered, 'Are you cracked? Do you not see how thin I am?
     Surely I am not worth your notice. But I have a sheep and fat lamb
     here which I will give you for your pot this evening.'

"So he gave her the sheep and the lamb, which she threw on her shoulder, and carried off up the mountain again. Then Sigurdur went home, and right glad was the farmer to see him safe, and asked him whether he had seen anything.

"'Nothing whatever, out of the common,' replied the boy.

"After New Year's day the farmer visited the flock, and, on looking them over, missed the sheep and lamb which he had given the youth, and asked him what had become of them. The boy answered that a fox had killed the lamb, and that the wether had fallen into a bog; adding, 'I fancy I shall not be very lucky with my sheep.'

"When he heard this, the farmer gave him one ewe and two wethers, and asked him to remain another year in his service. Sigurdur consented to do so.

     "Next Christmas Eve, Gudmundur begged Sigurdur to be cautious, and
     not run any risks, for he loved him as his own son.

     "But the boy answered, 'You need not fear, there are no risks to
     run.'"

The troll appeared again, and Sigurdur gave her two old and two young sheep. When he returned to the farm he declared that he had seen nothing unusual. Next year the troll appeared as usual, and took four sheep, which Sigurdur offered her, and himself besides. When she arrived at her cave, she bade Sigurdur kill them, and then bade him sharpen an axe, for she was going kill him. He did so, but she spared him.

From this point, the story becomes more of a common fairy tale. By following the troll's advice, Sigurdur won Margaret, the dean's daughter.[67]

This is another story about a troll that comes on Christmas Eve and harms people only when they expose themselves after sunset. Particularly noteworthy are the statements: "Gudmundur became attached to him, and on Christmas Eve begged him to come home from his sheep before sunset";—"Next Christmas Eve, Gudmundur begged Sigurdur to be cautious, and not run any risks, for he loved him as his own son";—and, "The farmer … asked him whether he had seen anything. 'Nothing whatever, out of the common,' replied the boy." They bear a striking resemblance to the corresponding statements in the Hrólfssaga: "The king said, 'Now I desire that all the men be still and quiet in the night, and I forbid them all to run any risk on account of the beast; let the cattle fare as fate wills; my men I do not wish to lose'";—and, "The king asked in the morning whether they knew anything of the beast; whether it had showed itself anywhere in the night; they told him the cattle were all safe and sound in the folds."

The purpose of calling attention to the story in Arnason's collection is that it may aid in showing what kind of story the dragon story in the saga really is. That the most terrible kind of troll attacks the cattle[68] of the famous King Hrolf Kraki and is dispatched by the noted hero Bothvar Bjarki does not alter the nature of the story.

A possible objection remains, which should be removed. When the warders in the morning saw the dead propped-up dragon, they said "that the beast was advancing rapidly to attack the town." And "the king bade his men be courageous, [and said] each one should help, according as he had courage for it, and proceed against the monster." But it is plain that, since the beast was apparently coming in the morning, in broad daylight, instead of at night, it seemed to have changed its tactics, and no one could tell what it intended to do. It was the part of wisdom to prepare for the worst. Besides, the men would have better prospects of success, or at least of avoiding injury, in an encounter with it in daylight when its maneuvers could be watched and guarded against. That the warders in a state of excitement said that "the beast was advancing rapidly to attack the town," is of no significance. They merely expressed the thought that came to their minds; and they were palpably wrong when they said that it "was advancing rapidly." But it is an exquisite touch on the part of the saga-man to have the warders utter these words. They got one view of the monster and hastened back. Of course, the beast was advancing and advancing rapidly; it would never occur to them, unless they had paused to take note of it, which they did not do, that the monster was standing still.

It may seem that too much attention is devoted to this feature of the story. But it is important to establish, if possible, the type of story we have before us in this much discussed tale about Bjarki and the troll-dragon. Regardless of where the author got the idea of the dragon, he has made use of the popular story about the troll that comes Christmas Eve and attacks those who venture out into the open after dark. And when the saga-man transformed the story into one of this type, he did it with the conscious purpose of providing a story that would enable him to let Bjarki take Hott out secretly at night, kill the dragon, compel Hott to eat of its heart and drink of its blood, put Hott's newly acquired strength to the test, prop the dead dragon up in a living posture, thus paving the way for further developments, and then return to the hall—all unseen and without arousing a breath of suspicion. The type of story is adapted precisely to the requirements of the author's plan. That the propping-up of an animal that has been slain is good saga-material, or has the sanction of earlier usage, is admitted, and need not be dwelt upon here.