two champions. There the pitched viking ship
Stood with its masts, its yards and its anchor. High in the stern sheets
Was seated a terrible figure, clad in a mantle all flaming,
Furious demon scouring a blade that with blood spots was covered.
Vain was his labor, naught could remove them. All his rich booty
Round him was scattered, and on his arm was the ring he had stolen.

"Go we," said Bele, "down thither and fight with the hideous goblin,
Two 'gainst a spirit of fire." But Thorstein half angrily answered:
"One against one is the rule of our fathers. I fight well singly."
Long they contended which first of the two the encounter should venture,
Proving the perilous journey. Bele at last took his helmet,
Shaking two lots therein. Watched by the stars Thorstein saw by their shimmer
His was the lot first appearing. A blow from his javelin of iron
Cleft the huge bolts and strong locks. He descended. Did any one question
What was revealed in the cavern, then was he silent and shuddered.
Bele at first heard strange music. It rang like the song of a goblin;
Then was a clattering noise, like the clashing of blades in a combat,
Lastly a hideous shriek,—then silence. Out staggered Thorstein,
Confounded, bewildered, all pale was his face, for with death had he battled;
Yet bore he the arm-ring a trophy. "'Twas dear bought," he often said
frowning;
"Once in my life was I frightened; 'twas when I recovered that arm-ring."
Widely renowned was that ring, and of rings was the chief in the Northland.

Lastly the ship, called Ellide, was one of the family jewels.
Viking, so say they, returning triumphant from venturesome journeys,
Sailed along coasting near Framness. There he espied on a shipwreck,
Carelessly swinging, a sailor, sporting as 'twere with the billows.
Noble of figure, tall in his stature, joyful his visage,
Changeable too, like the waves of the sea when they sport ill the sunshine,—
Blue was his mantle, golden his girdle and studded with corals;
Sea-green his hair, but his beard was as white as the foam of the ocean.
Viking his serpent steered thither to rescue the unfortunate stranger,—
Took him half frozen to Framness, and there as a guest entertained him.
When by his host to repose he was bidden, smiling he answered:
"Fair sits the wind, and my ship which you boarded, is not yet disabled;
Long ere the morning I trust she will hear me a hundred miles seaward.
Thanks for thy bidding, 'twas well meant and kindly. Ah! could I only
Leave thee a gift to remind thee of me! but afar on the ocean
Lieth my kingdom. Perhaps in the morning 'twill waft thee a token."
Viking next day by the sea-shore was standing, when lo! like an eagle
Madly pursuing its prey, a dragon ship sailed into harbor.
Nowhere was visible sailor or captain, or even a steersman;
Winding 'mid rocks and through breakers, the rudder a path sought unaided;
When the firm strand it was nearing, sudden, as ruled by a spirit,
Reefed were the sails unassisted. Untouched by finger of mortal,
The anchor sped through the clear water and fastened its barbs in the bottom.
Viking gazed, speechless with wonder; the sportive winds sang in low cadence:
"AEger the rescued forgetteth no kindness, he gives thee the dragon."
Kingly the gift to behold. The heavy curved planks of oak timber
Matched not together like others, but grew in one broad piece united.
It stretched its huge form in the sea like a dragon, its stem proudly lifted,
A stately head high in the air. Its throat with red gold was all blazing;
Sprinkled its belly with yellow and azure, and back of the rudder,
Covered with scales of pure silver, its tail lashed the waves in a circle.
Bordered with red were its inky black pinions. When all unfolding,
It flew in a race with the whirlwind, and left far behind the swift eagle.
When it was filled with armed warriors, you'd fancy you were beholding
A citadel swimming the billows, or palace o'er ocean ave flying.
Widely renowned was that ship, and of ships was the chief in the Northland.

All this and other vast treasures did Fridthjof receive from his father.
Scarce was there found in the Northland any with richer possessions,
Save were he heir of a kingdom, for of kings is the wealth always greatest.
Though from no king he descended, yet was his mind truly royal,
Courteous, noble and kind. Daily became he more famous.
Twelve gray-haired champions, valorous chieftains, sat at his table,
Thorstein's steel-breasted companions, whose brows were with scars deeply
furrowed.
Next to the warriors was seated a youth of the same age as Fridthjof,—

Like a fresh rose 'mid the dry leaves of autumn; Bjorn was this blossom.
Grown up with Fridthjof, in days of their boyhood their blood they commingled,
Brothers becoming in good northern fashion, sworn to each other
In joy and in grief, the survivor avenging the death of his comrade.

In the midst of the warriors and guests who had come to the funeral banquet,
Fridthjof, a sorrowing host, his eyelids with tears overflowing
Drank in accordance with ancestral usage, a skoal to his father,
Heard the old minstrels sing loudly his praises, a thundering drapa,
Rightfully took of his late father's seat undisputed possession,
And sat between Odin and Frey. So sitteth Thor up in Valhal.

IV.

Fridthjof's Courtship.

Loud sounded the music in Fridthjof's hall,
His ancestors' praises sang poets all.
O'erwhelmed with sadness
Is Fridthjof, he hears not their songs of gladness.

The earth has again donned her mantle of green
And dragon-ships breasting the waves are seen
But Fridthjof, pondering,
Is at the moon gazing or in the woods wandering.

How fortunate was he but lately, and glad,
For Helge and Halfdan as guests he had;
And with the brothers,
Came Ingeborg; Fridthjof scarce saw the others.

He sat by her side and her soft hand he pressed;
He felt in the pressure returned him thrice blest,
Enraptured gazing
On her whom he honored beyond all praising.

In glad conversation recalling their plays,
When life's morning dew presaged bright future days
For memory truthful
Keeps life's rosy gardens in noble minds youthful.

How fondly she greets him from dale and from park,
From loving names growing in White birchen bark,
From hills where flourish
The oaks which the ashes of heroes nourish.

"'Tis never so pleasant at home as here,
For Halfdan is childish and Helge severe;
Tho kings attending
To nothing but prayers and praise unending.

"And no one (nor could she her blushes hide)
To whom my complainings I may confide.
The palace building,
How stifling compared with the groves of Hilding.

"The doves that we petted, and tamed and fed,

By hawks oft affrighted away have fled;
One pair remaineth,
Let Fridthjof take one, one Ing'borg retaineth.

"She'll long like another her friend to see,—
And homeward returning will fly to me:
Your message, bind it
Beneath her flee pinion,—there none will find it."

All day they sat whispering side by side,
Nor ceased the low murmur at eventide;
So breathe in whispers
The zephyrs through lindens at