rcy."

With a tremendous yell the boys rushed forward, brandishing their swords
above their heads, and pulled Gunbjor from the saddle. But she held on
to her charge with a vigorous clutch, and as soon as her feet touched
the ground she began with her disengaged hand to lay about her, with
her whip, in a way that proved extremely unpleasant. Wolf-in-the-Temple,
against whom her assault was especially directed, received some bad cuts
across his face, and Ironbeard was driven backward into the ford, where
he fell, full length, and rose dripping wet and mortified. Thore the
Hound got a thump in his head from Gunbjor's stalwart elbows, and
Skull-Splitter, who had more courage than discretion, was pitched
into the water with no more ceremony than if he had been a superfluous
kitten. The fact was--I cannot disguise it--within five minutes the
whole valiant band of the Sons of the Vikings were routed by that
terrible switch, wielded by the intrepid Gunbjor. When the last of her
foes had bitten the dust, she calmly remounted her pony, and with the
Deacon's Maggie in her lap rode, at a leisurely pace, across the ford.

"Good-by, lads," she said, nodding her head at them over her shoulder;
"ye needn't be afraid. I won't tell on you."

IV.

To have been routed by a woman was a terrible humiliation to the valiant
Sons of the Vikings. They were silent and moody during the evening,
and sat staring into the big bonfire on the saeter green with stern and
melancholy features. They had suffered defeat in battle, and it behooved
them to avenge it. About nine o'clock they retired into their bunks
in the log cabin, but no sooner was Brumle-Knute's rhythmic snoring
perceived than Wolf-in-the-Temple put his head out and called to
his comrades to meet him in front of the house for a council of war.
Instantly they scrambled out of their alcoves, pulled on their coats
and trousers; and noiselessly stole out into the night. The sun was yet
visible, but a red veil of fiery mist was drawn across his face; and
a magic air of fairy-tales and strange unreality was diffused over
mountains, plains and lakes. The river wound like a huge, blood-red
serpent through the mountain pastures, and the snow-hooded peaks blazed
with fiery splendor.

The boys were quite stunned at the sight of such magnificence, and stood
for some minutes gazing at the landscape, before giving heed to the
summons of the chief.

"Comrades," said Wolf-in-the-Temple, solem