h dark pine-trees, so closely ranked together, and so luxuriant
in shade, that one might almost say the smallest bird could not find its
way through the thickets. Below the copsewood there stands a chapel with
the image of St. George, as guardian of the land and as a defence
against dragons, if there be such, and other monsters of paganism,
while, on the other side, on the borders of the dark firwood, are
certain cottages inhabited by wicked sorcerers, who have, moreover, a
cave cut so deep into the mountain that it joins with the bottomless
abyss, whence come all the demons that assist them. The Swedish
Christians who dwelt in the neighbourhood of this mountain thought it
would be necessary, besides the chapel and statue of St. George, to
choose some living protector, and therefore selected an ancient warrior,
highly renowned for his prowess in the battle-field, who had, in his old
age, become a monk. When this man went to take up his abode upon the
mountains, his only son (for he had formerly lived as a married man in
the world) would on no account leave him, but lived there also,
assisting his father in his duties as watcher, and in the exercises of
prayer and penitence, fully equalling the example that was now afforded
him as he had formerly done his example as a soldier.

The life led by those two valiant champions is said to have been most
admirable and pious.

Once on a time it happened that the young hero went out to cut wood in
the forest. He bore a sharp axe on his shoulders, and was besides girded
with a great sword; for as the woods were not only full of wild beasts,
but also haunted by wicked men, the pious hermits took the precaution of
always going armed. While the good youth was forcing his way through the
thickest of the copsewood, and already beheld over it the pointed tops
of the fir-trees (for he was close on the Finland frontier), there
rushed out against him a great white wolf, so that he had only just time
enough to leap to one side, and not being able immediately to draw his
sword, he flung his axe at his assailant. The blow was so well aimed
that it struck one of the wolf's fore-legs, and the animal, being sorely
wounded, limped back, with a yell of anguish, into the wood. The young
hermit warrior, however, thought to himself--

"It is not enough that I am rescued, but I must take such measures that
no one else may in future be injured, or even terrified by this wild
beast."

So he rushed in