. Not long
had she been gone, however, when he vowed to Bjoern, his chief
companion, that he would follow after her and ask for her hand. His
ship was prepared and soon he touched the shore near the temple of the
god Balder.

His request was not granted and Helge dismissed him contemptuously. In
a rage at the insult Frithiof lifted his sword; but remembering that
he stood on consecrated ground near Bele's tomb, he spared the king,
only cutting his heavy shield in two to show the strength of his
blade.

Soon after his departure another suitor, the aged King Ring of Norway
sought the hand of Ingeborg in marriage, and being refused, collected
an army and prepared to make war on Helge and Halfdan.

Then the two brothers were glad to send a messenger after Frithiof,
asking his aid. The hero, still angry, refused; but he hastened at
once to Ingeborg. He found her in tears at the shrine of Balder, and
although it was considered a sin for a man and woman to exchange words
in the sacred temple, he spoke to her, again making known his love.

The kings, her brothers, were away at war, but Frithiof stayed near
Ingeborg, and when they returned, promised to free them from the
oppression of Sigurd Ring if in return they would promise him the hand
of their sister. But the kings had heard of how Frithiof had spoken to
Ingeborg in the temple, and although they feared Sigurd they would not
grant the request. Instead he was condemned in punishment to sail away
to the Orkney Islands to claim tribute from the king Angantyr.

Frithiof departed in his ship Ellida, and Ingeborg stayed behind,
weeping bitterly. And as soon as the vessel was out of sight the
brothers sent for two witches--Heid and Ham--bidding them stir up such
a tempest on the sea that even the god-given ship Ellida could not
withstand its fury.

But no tempest could frighten the brave Frithiof. Singing a cheery
song he stood at the helm, caring nothing for the waves that raged
about the ship. He comforted his crew, and then climbed the mast to
keep a sharp lookout for danger.

From there he spied a huge whale, upon which the two witches were
seated, delighted at the tempest they had stirred up. Speaking to his
good ship, which could both hear and obey, he bade it run down the
whale and the witches.

This Ellida did. Whale and witches sank; the sea grew red with their
blood; the waves were calmed. Again the sun smiled over the hardy
sailors. But many of the crew were