re soon
visible hasting down the hills towards Mora. The Danish troopers, on
seeing this multitude of armed men, shut themselves in the priest's
house. Here they were attacked by the furious Dalmen, who broke open the
doors and rushed in. The terrified Danes now fled to the church and took
refuge in its steeple, whither they were quickly followed. Only by
dejected appeals and a promise not to injure Gustavus Vasa did they
succeed in escaping from the tower, and the Dalmen, thinking that some of
them might remain concealed in the narrow spire, shot their arrows at it
from every side. For more than a hundred years after some of these arrows
remained sticking in the old wooden spire.

Dalarna being looked upon as a centre of Swedish patriotism, a number of
the persecuted noblemen took refuge there, and those confirmed all that
Gustavus had told the people. And when Lars Olssen, an old warrior well
known to them, arrived and told them of the gallows which Christian had
erected, of the new taxes he had laid on the peasantry, and of the report
that he had threatened to cut a hand and a foot off each peasant, with
other tales true and false, they were deeply stirred. When Lars learned
that Gustavus had been there and what had passed, he reproached them for
their folly in not supporting him.

"Good men," he said, "I know that gentleman well, and tell you that if
yourselves and all the people of the country are not to be oppressed and
even exterminated Gustavus Vasa is the only one who has sense and
knowledge enough to lead us and lay hand to so great a work."

While they were talking another fugitive came from the forest, who
confirmed all that Lars had said and gave them a full account of the
blood-bath at Stockholm and of how the body of Sten Sture, their beloved
leader, had been torn from the grave and dishonored.

These stories filled their hearers with horror, terror, and fury; war and
bloody retribution was their only cry; their hearts were filled with
remorse that they had let Gustavus, their country's chief hope, depart
unaided. Two of them, the fleetest snow-skaters of the region, were
chosen to follow him and bring him back, and off they went through the
forests, following his track, and at length finding him at Saelen, the
last village in that section, and immediately at the foot of the lofty
Norwegian mountains. A few words sufficed to tell him of the great change
of feeling that had taken place, and with heart-f