ty, have mercy,
Smite us no more,
Spare us and save us,
Spare us, Thor! Thor!

With two great shouts the song ended, and a stillness followed so
intense that the crackling of the fire was heard distinctly. The
old priest stood silent for a moment. His shaggy brows swept down
over his eyes like ashes quenching flame. Then he lifted his face
and spoke.

"None of these things will please the god. More costly is the
offering that shall cleanse your sin, more precious the crimson
dew that shall send new life into this holy tree of blood. Thor
claims your dearest and your noblest gift."

Hunrad moved nearer to the handful of children who stood watching
the red mines in the fire and the swarms of spark-serpents darting
upward. They had heeded none of the priest's words, and did not
notice now that he approached them, so eager were they to see
which fiery snake would go highest among the oak branches.
Foremost among them, and most intent on the pretty game, was a boy
like a sunbeam, slender and quick, with blithe brown eyes and
laughing lips. The priest's hand was laid upon his shoulder. The
boy turned and looked up in his face.

"Here," said the old man, with his voice vibrating as when a thick
rope is strained by a ship swinging from her moorings, "here is
the chosen one, the eldest son of the Chief, the darling of the
people. Hearken, Bernhard, wilt thou go to Valhalla, where the
heroes dwell with the gods, to bear a message to Thor?"

The boy answered, swift and clear:

"Yes, priest, I will go if my father bids me. Is it far away?
Shall I run quickly? Must I take my bow and arrows for the
wolves?"

The boy's father, the Chieftain Gundhar, standing among his
bearded warriors, drew his breath deep, and leaned so heavily on
the handle of his spear that the wood cracked. And his wife, Irma,
bending forward from the ranks of women, pushed the golden hair
from her forehead with one hand. The other dragged at the silver
chain about her neck until the rough links pierced her flesh, and
the red drops fell unheeded on the snow of her breast.

A sigh passed through the crowd, like the murmur of the forest
before the storm breaks. Yet no one spoke save Hunrad:

"Yes, my Prince, both bow and spear shalt thou have, for the way
is long, and thou art a brave huntsman. But in darkness thou must
journey for a little space, and with eyes blindfolded. Fearest
thou?"

"Naught fear I," said the boy, "neither darkness, nor the gr