away.

About the same time the blast of a horn sounding over the heath gave
notice that the Viking had landed with all his men; they were
returning home with rich booty from the Gallic coast, where the
people, as in Britain, sang in their terror,--

"Save us from the savage Normands!"

What life and bustle were now apparent in the Viking's castle near
"the wild morass!" Casks of mead were brought into the hall, the pile
of wood was lighted, and horses were slaughtered for the grand feast
which was to be prepared. The sacrificial priests sprinkled with the
horses' warm blood the slaves who were to assist in the offering. The
fires crackled, the smoke rolled up under the roof, the soot dropped
from the beams; but people were accustomed to that. Guests were
invited, and they brought handsome gifts; rancour and falseness were
forgotten--they all became drunk together, and they thrust their
doubled fists into each other's faces--which was a sign of
good-humour. The skald--he was a sort of poet and musician, but at the
same time a warrior--who had been with them, and had witnessed what he
sang about, gave them a song, wherein they heard recounted all their
achievements in battle, and wonderful adventures. At the end of every
verse came the same refrain,--

"Fortune dies, friends die, one dies one's self; but a
glorious name never dies."

And then they all struck on their shields, and thundered with their
knives or their knuckle-bones on the table, so that they made a
tremendous noise.

The Viking's wife sat on the cross bench in the open banquet hall. She
wore a silk dress, gold bracelets, and large amber beads. She was in
her grandest attire, and the skald named her also in his song, and
spoke of the golden treasure she had brought her husband; and HE
rejoiced in the lovely child he had only seen by daylight, in all its
wondrous beauty. The fierce temper which accompanied her exterior
charms pleased him. "She might become," he said, "a stalwart female
warrior, and able to kill a giant adversary." She never even blinked
her eyes when a practised hand, in sport, cut off her eyebrows with a
sharp sword.

The mead casks were emptied, others were brought up, and these, too,
were drained; for there were folks present who could stand a good
deal. To them might have been applied the old proverb, "The cattle
know when to leave the pasture; but an unwise man never knows the
depth of his stomach."

Yes, they a