XXVIII. "SEA-RUNES GOOD AT NEED"
XXIX. "GREAT IS THE TROUBLE OF FOOT ILL-TRIPPING"
XXX. "SWEET SIGHT FOR ME THOU TWAIN TO SET EYES ON"
XXXI. "HILD UNDER HELM"
XXXII. "HAIL FROM THE MAIN THEN COMEST THOU HOME"

VIKING-BOYS.

CHAPTER 1

"CALLED AFTER THAT WORK WHICH HE HAD TO DO."

"How I wish I had lived hundreds of years ago, when the Vikings lived;
it must have been prime!"

He was a Shetland boy of fifteen who so spoke, and he was addressing
his young sister of eleven. They were sitting on a low crag by the
shore, dangling their feet over the water, which flowed clear and
bright within a short distance of their toes. They were looking out
upon a grand stretch of ocean studded with islands of fantastic shape,
among which numerous boats were threading their way. It was a fair
summer afternoon, and the fishing boats were returning from the far
haaf[1] laden with spoil. It had not required a great stretch of
imagination to carry Yaspard Adiesen's thoughts from the scene before
him to the olden days, when his native Isles were the haunts of
Vikinger, whose ships were for ever winging their way over those waters
bearing the spoils of many a stormy fight.

"Yes," the boy went on; "what glorious fun it must have been in those
days; such fighting and sailing and discovering new places; such heaps
of adventures of all sorts. Oh, how grand it must have been!"

"I suppose it was," answered Signy; "but then these people long ago did
not have all the nice things we have--books, you know, and--and
everything!"

"Oh, tuts! They had Scalds to sing their history--much nicer than your
musty books."

"Perhaps!" said the girl. She loved books with a mighty love, but she
adored her brother, and what he said she accepted, whether it commended
itself to her judgment or not.

"There is no 'perhaps' about it, Signy," he retorted a little sharply.
"It is fact--so there! It must have been far more jolly in Shetland
then than it is now. Everything so tame and commonplace: mail-day once
a week, sermon every Sunday, custom-house officers about, chimney-pot
hats and tea! Bah!" Yaspard caught up a pebble and flung it to skim
over the water as a relief to his feelings, which received a little
additional comfort from Signy's next words.

"Hats are certainly very ugly, especially when they are tied on with
strings, as Uncle Brues wears his; and when a sermon lasts an hour it is
tiresome. Yes, and the