orway, it is as natural to persons of all ages and
degrees to guide a boat as to walk. Swiftly but cautiously they shot
through the water, till, at length, Oddo uttered a most hideous croak.

"What do you mean?" asked Erica, hastily glancing round her.

Oddo laughed, and looked upwards as he croaked again. He was answered
by a similar croak, and a large raven was seen flying homewards over the
fiord for the night. Then the echoes all croaked, till the whole region
seemed to be full of ravens.

"Are you sure you know the cove?" asked Erica, who wished to put an end
to this sound, unwelcome to the superstitious. "Do not make that bird
croak so; it will be quiet if you let it alone. Are you sure you can
find the cove again?"

"Quite sure. I wish I was as sure that Hund would not find it again
before me. Pull away."

"How much farther is it?"

"Farther than I like to think of. I doubt your arm holding out. I wish
Rolf was here."

Erica did not wish the same thing. She thought that Rolf was, on the
whole, safer waging war with bears than with pirates; especially if Hund
was among them. She pulled her oar cheerfully, observing that there was
no fatigue at present; and that when they were once afloat in the
heavier boat, and had cleared the cove, there need be no hurry,--unless,
indeed, they should see something of the pirate-schooner on the way: and
of this she had no expectation, as the booty that might be had where the
fishery was beginning was worth more than anything that could be found
higher up the fiords:--to say nothing of the danger of running up into
the country, so far as that getting away again depended upon one
particular wind.

Yet Erica looked behind her after every few strokes of her oar; and
once, when she saw something, her start was felt like a start of the
skiff itself. There was a fire glancing and gleaming and quivering over
the water, some way down the fiord.

"Some people night-fishing," observed Oddo. "What sport they will have!
I wish I was with them. How fast we go! How you can row when you
choose! I can see the man that is holding the torch. Cannot you see
his black figure? And the spearman,--see how he stands at the bow,--now
going to cast his spear! I wish I was there."

"We must get farther away,--into the shadow somewhere,--or wait,"
observed Erica. "I had rather not wait,--it is growing so late. We
might creep along under that promontory, in the shadow, if you