in his home in the distant East.
For it was in the bright glowing land of the sun that his father,
King Allof, reigned.

The Queen Godylt loved her little son too well to spoil him. She
wished him to learn to share his toys, to play his games with
other boys.

Thus, much to the delight of little Prince Horn, two boys, almost
as old as he was, came to live with him in the palace. Athulph
and Fykenyld were their names.

They were merry playmates for the little prince, and, as the
years rolled by, Athulph and Fykenyld thought there was no one to
equal their prince Hynde Horn. They would serve him loyally when
he was king and they were men.

All went well in the palace of this far-off eastern land until
Hynde Horn was fifteen years of age. Then war came, without
warning, into this country of blue sky and blazing sun.

Mury, King of the Turks, landed in the kingdom of King Allof, who
was all unprepared for fight. And King Mury, with his fierce
soldiers, pillaged the land, killed the good King Allof, seized
his crown, and placed it on his own head.

Then poor Queen Godylt fled from the palace, taking with her
Hynde Horn and his two playmates Prince Athulph and Prince
Fykenyld.

I cannot tell you what became of the beautiful queen, but Mury,
the cruel king, captured Hynde Horn and made him and his two
playfellows prisoners.

What should he do with Prince Horn, who was heir to the kingdom
he had seized?

Should he kill the lad, he wondered. Yet cruel as King Mury was,
he could not do so dastardly a deed.

But Hynde Horn was tall and strong, and Hynde Horn was loved by
the people. He must certainly be sent out of the country.

So King Mury planned, and King Mury plotted, and at length he
thought of a way, by which he hoped to be for ever rid of the
gallant prince and his two companions.

He ordered the prisoners to be brought down to the seashore, and
there the lads were thrust into an open boat, and pushed out to
sea. It seemed as though they must perish, for King Mury had
given orders that no provisions were to be placed in the boat.

There was neither helm nor oar for the little craft. The lads
could do nothing to guide her on her dangerous course. Now they
would drift gently on the swell of the quiet sea, now they would
whirl giddily on the crest of a storm-tossed wave. Faint and
weary grew Hynde Horn and his two companions. It seemed to them
that they would perish from hunger or be devoured by the storm.