the island beach, below the town of
Arcona, this man noticed that the high cliffs on which the temple was
built were honeycombed by many deep holes, which could not be seen from
the ramparts above, but were quite visible from the beach below. One day
it occurred to him that by making use of these holes he could roast the
pagan worshippers out of their nests, and he arranged with some of his
fellows to carry out his plan.

Gathering such dry straw and small sticks as they could collect, the
soldiers pretended to be playing at a game of pitch and toss, which if
seen by the sentinels on the ramparts above would not seem suspicious to
them. In this way they caused much of the straw and sticks to lodge in
the holes in the steep cliff. Then, by using spears and stones for a
ladder, one of them climbed for a distance up the steep rock wall and set
fire to some of the inflammable rubbish in the holes.

The effect was stupendous. The flames spread from hole to hole, creeping
up the face of the rock until the wooden spikes and palings at its
summit were in a blaze. This took place unseen by the pagans, who first
took the alarm when they saw flames circling round the great mast from
which floated the banner of their god.

Before they could take any steps to extinguish the flames, and while they
stood in a panic of apprehension, the Danes, headed by Bishop Absolon,
rushed to the assault and succeeded in taking the town.

There was nothing left for them but to accept baptism, on which their
lives depended, and the worthy bishop and his monks were kept busy at
this work for the next two days and nights, the bishop desisting only
when, half blind from want of sleep, he dropped down before the altar
that had been set up beside the fonts, where the converts were received
and signed with the cross.

The work of baptism done, King Valdemar caused the huge wooden idol of
the god to be dragged amid martial music to the open plain beyond the
town, where the army servants chopped it up into firewood. In this work
the new converts could not be induced to take part, for, Christians as
yet only in name, they feared some dread revenge from the great
Svanteveit, such as lightning from heaven to destroy the Danes.

The Christians of that age were quite as superstitious, for they declared
that when the image was being carried out of the temple gates, a horrible
monster, spitting fire and brimstone, burst from the roof and leaped with
howls of