its skull looked like
a low tassel.

Jack gave a great start. This was the very being he had been thinking of
in his wild rage. Then he took the large baling can and flung it at the
Draug.

But right through the Draug it went, and rattled against the wall
behind, and back again it came whizzing about Jack's ears, and if it had
struck him he would never have got up again.

The old fellow, however, only blinked his eyes a little savagely.

"Fie!" cried Jack, and spat at the uncanny thing--and back into his face
again he got as good as he gave.

"There you have your wet clout back again!" cried a laughing voice.

But the same instant Jack's eyes were opened and he saw a whole
boat-building establishment on the sea-shore.

And, there, ready and rigged out on the bright water, lay an
_Ottring_,[13] so long and shapely and shining that his eyes could not
feast on it enough.

The old 'un blinked with satisfaction. His eyes became more and more
glowing.

"If I could guide you back to Helgeland," said he, "I could put you in
the way of gaining your bread too. But you must pay me a little tax for
it. In every seventh boat you build 'tis _I_ who must put in the
keel-board."

Jack felt as if he were choking. He felt that the boat was dragging him
into the very jaws of an abomination.

"Or do you fancy you'll worm the trick out of me for nothing?" said the
gaping grinning Draug.

Then there was a whirring sound, as if something heavy was hovering
about the boathouse, and there was a laugh: "If you want the _seaman's_
boat you must take the _dead man's_ boat along with it. If you knock
three times to-night on the keel-piece with the club, you shall have
such help in building boats that the like of them will not be found in
all Nordland."

Twice did Jack raise his club that night, and twice he laid it aside
again.

But the Ottring lay and frisked and sported in the sea before his eyes,
just as he had seen it, all bright and new with fresh tar, and with the
ropes and fishing gear just put in. He kicked and shook the fine slim
boat with his foot just to see how light and high she could rise on the
waves above the water-line.

And once, twice, thrice, the club smote against the keel-piece.

So that was how the first boat was built at Sjoeholm.

Thick as birds together stood a countless number of people on the
headland in the autumn, watching Jack and his brothers putting out in
the new Ottring.

It glided throu