rotherhood
was lamenting this fact that Wolf-in-the-Temple had a brilliant idea.
He procured his father's permission to invite his eleven companions to
spend a day and a night at the Ronning saeter, or mountain dairy, far up
in the highlands. The only condition Mr. Ronning made was that they were
to be accompanied by his man, Brumle-Knute, who was to be responsible
for their safety. But the boys determined privately to make Brumle-Knute
their prisoner, in case he showed any disposition to spoil their sport.
To spend a day and a night in the woods, to imagine themselves Vikings,
and behave as they imagined Vikings would behave, was a prospect which
no one could contemplate without the most delightful excitement. There,
far away from sheriffs and pastors and maternal supervision, they might
perhaps find the long-desired chance of performing their heroic deed.

It was a beautiful morning early in August that the boys started from
Strandholm, Mr. Ronning's estate, accompanied by Brumle-Knute. The
latter was a middle-aged, round-shouldered peasant, who had the habit of
always talking to himself. To look at him you would have supposed that
he was a rough and stupid fellow who would have quite enough to do in
looking after himself. But the fact was, that Brumle-Knute was the best
shot, the best climber--and altogether the most keen-eyed hunter in the
whole valley. It was a saying that he could scent game so well that he
never needed a dog; and that he could imitate to perfection the call of
every game bird that inhabited the mountain glens. Sweet-tempered he was
not; but so reliable, skilful, and vigilant, and moreover so thorough
a woodsman, that the boys could well afford to put up with his gruff
temper.

The Sons of the Vikings were all mounted on ponies; and
Wolf-in-the-Temple, who had been elected chieftain, led the troop.
At his side rode Skull-Splitter, who was yet a trifle pale after his
blood-letting, but brimming over with ambition to distinguish himself.
They had all tied their trousers to their legs with leather thongs, in
order to be perfectly "Old Norse;" and some of them had turned their
plaids and summer overcoats inside out, displaying the gorgeous colors
of the lining. Loosely attached about their necks and flying in the
wind, these could easily serve for scarlet or purple cloaks wrought on
Syrian looms. Most of the boys carried also wooden swords and shields,
and the chief had a long loor or Alpine horn. On