ts, for they not only
came back to gaze at the children, but ventured at length to carry them
off to play near the banks of the river.

Olaf was so far reconciled to his new friends that he did not object to
witness and take an interest in their games, though he resolutely
refused to join, fearing that if he did so his little charge might be
spirited away while he was not watching.

At last one of the boys, whose head was very small and round, and whose
name appeared to be Powlet, came forward with a little red paint, and
offered to apply it to Olaf's face. All the boys' faces were, we may
observe, more or less painted with black, red, white, and blue colours,
and their heads were decorated more or less with feathers. Indeed,
these feathers constituted, with the exception of a trifling shred of
leather about the loins, and some feathers in their hair, all the
clothing they wore at that season of the year.

Olaf refused to be painted, whereupon Powlet rubbed the red paint on the
point of his own nose, an operation which so tickled the fancy of
Snorro, that he burst into a hearty fit of laughter, to Olaf's ineffable
joy.

"That's right, Snorrie," he cried, setting the child on his knee, "laugh
again; do it heartily; it will cheer us both."

"It am so fun-ny, O'af," said Snorro, repeating the laugh as he looked
at the native boy.

Observing the success of his efforts to please, Powlet put a spot of the
red paint under each eye, and Snorro laughed so much at this that all
the other boys came crowding round to ascertain and enjoy the joke.

Powlet now offered to anoint Snorro in the same way, but Snorro
objected, and, pointing to his protector said, with a look of glee--

"Do O'af."

Nothing else would have induced Olaf to submit, but Snorro's wish was
law to him. He therefore consented at once, and Powlet, dipping his
finger in the red paint which he carried in the hollow of his hand, drew
a thick stroke from Olaf's forehead down to the point of his nose, where
he made it terminate in a large, round spot.

There was a tremendous shout at this, not only from Snorro, but from all
the other boys; and Olaf was so pleased to see Snorro happy, that he
turned to Powlet, pointed to his face, and nodded his head by way of
inviting further decoration.

Powlet was an intelligent boy. He understood him at once, and went on
with his work, a boy coming up at the moment with some white paint in
his hand, and another with