w closer to each other, as Leif told of the tragic
love of Helgi and Sigrun, or how Weyland outwitted King Nidad, or how
Thor went as bride to Thrym in Giantland, and the old sad tale of how
Sigurd Fafnirsbane, noblest of men, went down to death for the love of a
queen not less noble. Leif told them well, so that his hearers were held
fast with the spell of wonder and then spurred to memories of their
own. Tongues would be loosened, and there would be wild recollections of
battles among the skerries of the west, of huntings in the hills where
strange sights greeted the benighted huntsman, and of voyaging far south
into the lands of the sun where the poorest thrall wore linen and the
cities were all gold and jewels. Biorn's head would be in such a whirl
after a night of story-telling that he could get no sleep for picturing
his own deeds when he was man enough to bear a sword and launch his
ship. And sometimes in his excitement he would slip outside into the
darkness, and hear far up in the frosty sky the whistle of the swans as
they flew southward, and fancy them the shield-maids of Odin on their
way to some lost battle.

His father, Thorwald Thorwaldson, was king over all the firths and wicks
between Coldness in the south and Flatness and the mountain Rauma in the
north, and inland over the Uplanders as far as the highest springs of
the rivers. He was king by more than blood, for he was the tallest and
strongest man in all the land, and the cunningest in battle. He was for
ordinary somewhat grave and silent, a dark man with hair and beard
the colour of molten iron, whence came his by-name. Yet in a fight no
Bearsark could vie with him for fury, and his sword Tyrfing was famed in
a thousand songs. On high days the tale of his descent would be sung in
the hall--not by Leif, who was low-born and of no account, but by one
or other of the chiefs of the Shield-ring. Biorn was happy on such
occasions, for he himself came into the songs, since it was right to
honour the gentle lady, the Queen. He heard how on the distaff side he
was sprung from proud western earls, Thorwolf the Black, and Halfdan and
Hallward Skullsplitter. But on the spear side he was of still loftier
kin, for Odin was first in his pedigree, and after him the Volsung
chiefs, and Gothfred the Proud, and--that no magnificence might be
wanting--one Karlamagnus, whom Biorn had never heard of before, but who
seemed from his doings to have been a puissant king.

O