nod, struck
spurs to his horse, and galloped after his comrades.

CHAPTER VIII

LEIF THE CROSS-BEARER

Inquire and impart
Should every man of sense,
Who will be accounted sage.
Let one only know,--
A second may not;
If three, all the world knows.
Ha'vama'l

It was early the next morning, so early that the world was only here and
there awake. The town was silent; the fields were empty; the woods
around the camp slept in darkness and silence. Only the little valley
lay fresh and smiling in the new light, winking back at the sun from a
million dewy eyes.

Under the trees the long white-scoured tables stood ready with bowl and
trencher, and Alwin carried food to and fro with leisurely steps. From
Helga's booth her voice arose in a weird battle-chant; while from the
river bank came the voices and laughter and loud splashing of many
bathers.

Gradually the shouts merged into a persistent roar. The roar swelled
into a thunder of excitement. Alwin paused, in the act of ladling curds
into the line of wooden bowls, and listened smiling.

"Now they are swimming a race back to the bank. I wonder whom they will
drive out of the water today." For that was the established penalty for
being last in the race.

The thunder of cheering reached its height; then suddenly it split into
scattered jeers and hootings. There was a crackling of dead leaves, a
rustling of bushes, and Sigurd appeared, dripping and breathless.
Panting and spent, he threw himself on the ground, his shining white
body making a cameo against the mossy green.

"You! You beaten!" Alwin cried in surprise.

Sigurd gave a breathless laugh. "Even I myself. Certainly it is a time
of wonders!" He looked eagerly at the spread table, and held up his
hand. "And I am starving besides! Toss me something, I beg of you." When
Alwin had thrown him a chunk of crusty bread, he consented to go on and
explain his defeat between mouthfuls. "It was because my shoulder is
still heavy in its movements. I broke it wrestling last winter. I forgot
about it when I entered the race."

"That is a pity," said Alwin. But he spoke absently, for he was thinking
that here might be an opening for something he wished to say. He filled
several bowls in silence, Sigurd watching over his bread with twinkling
eyes. After a while Alwin went on cautiously: "This mishap is a light
one, however. I hope it is not likely that you will have to endure a
heav