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Boyhood in Norway-Part13_Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen(1848-1895)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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into the water with no more ceremony than if he had been a

superfluous kitten. The fact was--I cannot disguise it--within



five minutes the whole valiant band of the Sons of the Vikings

were routed by that terrible switch, wielded by the intrepid



Gunbjor. When the last of her foes had bitten the dust, she

calmly remounted her pony, and with the Deacon's Maggie in her



lap rode, at a leisurely pace, across the ford.

"Good-by, lads," she said, nodding her head at them over her



shoulder; "ye needn't be afraid. I won't tell on you."

IV.



To have been routed by a woman was a terrible humiliation to the

valiant Sons of the Vikings. They were silent and moody during



the evening, and sat staring into the big bonfire on the saeter

green with stern and melancholy features. They had suffered



defeat in battle, and it behooved them to avenge it. About nine

o'clock they retired into their bunks in the log cabin, but no



sooner was Brumle-Knute's rhythmic snoring perceived than

Wolf-in-the-Temple put his head out and called to his comrades to



meet him in front of the house for a council of war. Instantly

they scrambled out of their alcoves, pulled on their coats and



trousers; and noiselessly stole out into the night. The sun was

yet visible, but a red veil of fiery mist was drawn across his



face; and a magic air of fairy-tales and strange unreality was

diffused over mountains, plains and lakes. The river wound like



a huge, blood-red serpent through the mountain pastures, and the

snow-hooded peaks blazed with fiery splendor.



The boys were quite stunned at the sight of such magnificence,

and stood for some minutes gazing at the landscape, before giving



heed to the summons of the chief.

"Comrades," said Wolf-in-the-Temple, solemnly, "what is life



without honor?"

There was not a soul present who could answer that conundrum, and



after a fitting pause the chief was forced to answer it himself.

"Life without honor, comrades," he said, severely, "life--without



honor is--nothing."

"Hear, hear!" cried Ironbeard; "good for you, old man!"



"Silence!" thundered Wolf-in-the-Temple, "I must beg the

gentlemen to observe the proprieties."



This tremendousphraserarely failed to restore order, and the

flippant Ironbeard was duly rebuked by the glances of displeasure



which met him on all sides. But in the meanwhile the chief had

lost the thread of his speech and could not recover it.



"Vikings," he resumed, clearing his throat vehemently, "we have

been--that is to say--we have sustained----"



"A thrashing," supplied the innocent Skull-Splitter.

But the awful stare which was fixed upon him convinced him that



he had made a mistake; and he shrunk into an abashed silence.

"We must do something to retrieve our honor," continued the



chief, earnestly; "we must--take steps--to to get upon our legs

again," he finished, blushing with embarrassment.



"I would suggest that we get upon our legs first, and take the

steps afterward," remarked the flippant Ironbeard, with a sly



wink at Thore the Hound.

The chief held it to be beneath his dignity to notice this



interruption, and after having gazed for a while in silence at

the blood-red mountain peaks, he continued, more at his ease:



"I propose, comrades, that we go on a bear hunt. Then, when we

return with a bear-skin or two, our honor will be all right; no



one will dare laugh at us. The brave boy-hunters will be the

admiration and pride of the whole valley."



"But Brummle-Knute," observed the Skull-Splitter; "do you think

he will allow us to go bear-hunting?"



"What do we care whether he allows us or not?" cried

Wolf-in-the-Temple, scornfully; "he sleeps like a log; and I



propose that we tie his hands and feet before we start."

This suggestion met with enthusiasticapproval, and all the boys



laughed heartily at the idea of Brumle-Knute waking up and

finding himself tied with ropes, like a calf that is carried to



market.

"Now, comrades," commanded the chief, with a flourish of his






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