s.
They told him that they would not desert the King; he must expect
nothing of them.

Broken-hearted and desperate, Gustav Vasa turned toward the
Norwegian frontier. He would leave the country for which there was
no hope. While the table in the poorest home groaned with Yuletide
cheer, Sweden's coming king hid under an old bridge, outcast and
starving, till it was safe to leave. Then he took up his weary
journey alone. The winter cold had grown harder as the days grew
shorter. Famished wolves dogged his steps, but he outran them on his
snow-shoes. By night he slept in some wayside shelter, such as they
build for travellers in that desolate country, or in the brush. The
snow grew deeper, and the landscape wilder, as he went. For days he
had gone without food, when he saw the sun set behind the lofty
range that was to bar him out of home and hope forever. Even there
was no abiding place for him. What thoughts of his vanished dream,
perchance of the distant lands across the seas where the tyrant's
hand could not reach him, were in his mind, who knows, as he bent
his strength to the last and hardest stage of his journey? He was
almost there, when he heard shouts behind him and turned to sell his
life dear. Two men on skis were calling to him. They were unarmed,
and he waited to let them come up.

Their story was soon told. They had come to call him back. After he
left, an old soldier whom they knew in Mora had come from the south
and told them worse things than even Gustav knew. It was all true
about the Stockholm murder; worse, the King was having gallows set
up in every county to hang all those on who said him nay; a heavy
tax was laid upon the peasants, and whoever did not pay was to have
a hand or foot cut off; they could still follow the plow. And now
they had sent away the one man who could lead against the Danes,
with the forests full of outlawed men who would have enlisted under
him as soon as ever the cry was raised! While the men of Dalecarlia
were debating the news among themselves orders came from the
bailiff at Westeras that the tax was to be paid forthwith. That
night runners were sent on the trail of Gustav to tell him to come
back; they were ready.

When he came, it was as if a mighty storm swept through the
mountains. The people rose in a body. Every day whole parishes threw
off their allegiance to King Christian. Sunday after Sunday Gustav
spoke to the people at their meeting-houses, and they raised