Playing at "Robinson Crusoe" and "Hawk eye" had been favourite
games, therefore they were provided with all sorts of belts and pouches
for holding every conceivable kind of weapon; and queer figures they
looked when their war toilet was complete, and they sat down to talk
over their scheme and project a great many more.

Once outside of Boden voe, it did not take long to reach Havnholme.
The _Laulie_ was lying along the crags safely moored there, and her
crew were asleep in the old shed, where they had spent many a night
before. They had had a long day of exciting sport, and were wrapped in
sleep more profound than usual.

But when the _Osprey_ came within hailing distance, Yaspard ran up a
black flag and raised a shout of "A Viking! a Viking!" His companions
took up the cry, and Pirate, setting his fore-paws on the bow, barked
and howled like mad. Such a hullaballoo was enough to waken anybody,
and the Lunda boys--half-awake--rushed out of the shed, and stood
staring in dumb-foundered amazement at the foe!

The Harrisons burst out laughing at the ludicrous spectacle of four
lads rubbing their eyes, scratching their heads, shaking themselves
straight in their clothes, and looking as if there never had been half
an idea in one of their minds. But Yaspard shouted in grandiloquent
style--

"You, lads of Lunda there, listen! We are Vikinger in search of glory
and spoil, and all the rest of it. But we do not take our enemy
unawares. We would not assail slumberers. We are nineteenth century
enough to fight fair. So now, look to yourselves!"

During these few minutes the _Osprey_ had reached the crags, and was
alongside of the _Laulie_. As he finished speaking the young marauder,
leaning over to the other boat, undid her painter, and hitching it to
his own boat, shouted to his companions to row off again. They pulled
out from the shore, and the _Laulie_ was captured before her crew had
waked up enough to comprehend what was going on.

"It's Yaspard Adiesen masquerading like an ass," said Harry Mitchell at
last.

"It will only be a bit of fun," Gloy Winwick ventured to say, for by
that time he had recognised Lowrie and Gibbie. They were his cousins,
and he had often met them, and heard of the curious games which young
Adiesen invented for their amusement and his own. "There will be nae
harm in it. It's just his way. He's queer."

The last half of his remarks was given in an aside to Tom Holtum, but
Tom