tly to Pomerania, leaving the war and his kingdom to take
care of themselves. Several members of the council followed him
thither, and, after some persuasion, brought him back with them.

"In the midst of these changes and commotions, Engelbrecht was
treacherously assassinated by the son of that bishop whom he had
formerly affronted at Wadstena. With tears and lamentations, the
boors fetched the body of their brave and faithful leader from the
little island where his death had occurred, and which to this day
bears his name. The spot on which the murder was committed is said
to be accursed, and no grass ever grows there. Subsequently the
coffin was brought to the church at Oerebro, and so exalted was the
opinion entertained of Engelbrecht's worth and virtue, that the
country people asserted that miracles were wrought at his tomb, as
at the shrine of a saint."

It was nearly a century later that Gustavus Vasa, flying, with a price
upon his head, from the assassins of his father and friends, took refuge
in Dalecarlia. Disguised in peasant's garb, and with an axe in his hand,
he hired himself as a labourer; but was soon recognised, and his
employer feared to retain him in his service. He then appealed to the
Dalecarlians to espouse his cause; but, although they admired and
sympathised with the gallant youth who thus placed his trust in them,
they hesitated to take up arms in his behalf; and, hopeless of their
assistance, he at last turned his steps towards Norway. But scarcely
had he done so, when the incursion of a band of Danish mercenaries sent
to seek him, and the full confirmation of what he had told them
concerning the massacre at Stockholm, roused the Dalecarlians from their
inaction. The tocsin was sounded throughout the provinces, the Danes
were driven away, and the two swiftest runners in the country bound on
their snow-shoes, and set out with the speed of the wind to bring back
the royal fugitive. They overtook him at the foot of the Norwegian
mountains, and soon afterwards he found himself at the head of five
thousand white-coated Dalecarlians.

The Danes were approaching, and one of their bishops asked--"How many
men the province of Dalarna could furnish?"

"At least twenty thousand," was the reply; "for the old men are just as
strong and as brave as the young ones."

"But what do they all live upon?"

"Upon bread and water. They take little