While in Dampstadir Ivar attained his eighteenth year, and had reached that age when all young men went upon warlike expeditions when the opportunity was offered them, and great warriors and powerful chiefs would have no one younger than this age on board of their ships. Some days after his eighteenth birthday, Hjorvard, who was seated on the mound of his father, sent for Ivar, and after he had arrived he said to him: “From thy grandfather’s mound, upon which we are, and whose deeds of valor are known all over the northern lands, and are recited by the poets, and will continue to be until the end of time, thou seest surrounding us the graves of many of thy kinsmen who have also gone to Valhalla. Each of them died valiantly. Among them I want to teach thee the same precepts of wisdom which my father counselled me to follow when I was about thy age. I have found them useful during my life, and they will also be of good service to thee if thou heedest them.”

After a pause he continued: “Kinsman, listen to me. It has been the custom from immemorial time that sons of chiefs should go to war and acquire wealth and honor, and that personal property should not be inherited, nor son get it after his father, but that it should be placed on the pyre and in the mound with themselves. Though their sons get the land and estates, they cannot hold their rank and dignity, unless they place themselves and their men in danger and go to war, earning thus property and honors one after another, and thus following in the footsteps of their kinsmen.

“Seek fame and renown in good deeds, for these never die, and will be remembered by the sons of men until the end of time. Many a man, since Odin created the world, has spent his life in getting wealth, and, to obtain it, has become miserly. Their hearts only delight in the sight of gold. But not one of these is remembered by mankind; their names and their wealth have passed away, but the names of great scalds, and of the men who have accomplished great deeds, will live forever, though the Nornir have shaped their lives so that they be poor, and die in poverty. So, my son, be lavish with thy wealth and with the tributes that will be paid to thee by those thou hast conquered. Be rich in good deeds. Liberal and valiant men live best, but the unwise fear everything. A more faithful friend will a man never get than sound good sense.

“After a man has been wounded and lies helpless under thy blow on the ground, I need not tell thee, for thy manhood tells it to thee, not to inflict another wound on him, for then it is murder. If thou diest in the fight, it is because Odin has chosen thee to go to him. If thou art victorious, it is because he has given thee victory; both alternatives are good. Gladsheim is the home of the glad; there the gleaming Valhalla, or the ‘Hall of the Slain,’ stands, and Odin chooses, every day, men slain by weapons. That hall is easily recognized by those who come there, for it is roofed with shafts, and thatched with shields; the benches are covered with chain-armor; it has five hundred and forty doors; and eight hundred ‘einherjar,’ for so are called the chosen, pass through it at once. A wolf hangs over the main entrance of Valhalla. Try to be more welcome there than any chief that has reddened the sax and carried far and wide the bloody blade; enter Valhalla bespattered with blood. Odin gives victory to his sons, wealth to some, eloquence and wisdom to a few, songs to poets, luck in love to many, chosen weapons to those he loves, and fair winds to mariners. It is time for thee to go to war, and thus become worthy of thy ancestors and be their equal in fame.

“If thou obtainest renown, be not vain and boastful, for fame is given to thee by the people, and why shouldst thou be proud towards the giver? A quiet demeanor never hurts a man, while people laugh at those who are puffed up in their own pride. Many a man is made a fool by success. The high-born and famous should never be proud.”

After saying this, Hjorvard presented Ivar with the sword Angrvadil. It was a superb damascened weapon, with a hilt ornamented with gold. Its scabbard was almost covered with gold. It was celebrated all over the North on account of its quality, and was called by the poets, “Odin’s flame,” the “gleam of battle,” the “injurer of shields,” the “leader of victory.”

When Ivar had inspected and admired it, his father continued: “Angrvadil has been with our kin for generations, and it is as good to-day as in the days of yore. Thy grandfather and myself have gone into sixty battles with it, and it has gained the victory each time, and it has never been dulled. Never let Angrvadil go out of our family, for misfortune will overtake our kin if it does not remain in the possession of our kinsmen. It will help thee also in duels; courage is in its blade, terror in its point, and luck in its hilt. This sword is infallible,” added Hjorvard, pointing to the mystic letters of gold inlaid on the blade near the hilt. “It is death to the one who is wounded by it. Hrotti, my own sword, thou wilt use after my death.”

Ivar thanked his father, and said that his gift pleased him better than if it had been gold in abundance, or large estates, and added he did not know what the Nornir had fated him, but that he hoped to die in the midst of victory. He thanked his father, too, for the good counsel he had always given him, and above all for the great love he had shown towards him; and, with great warmth of feeling, added that he would try to emulate him in all his actions, and hoped that none of his kinsmen in Valhalla would ever be ashamed of him.

After leaving his father he went to his mother, and said to her: “I want thee, mother, to show me the cloaks which Heid, the sybil, made for my father a long time ago.”

Sigrlin opened a large chest and answered: “Here they are, and they are almost as good as new.”

Ivar took them up. They were with sleeves, and a hood at the top, with a covering for the face; they were wide and long; it was believed that no iron could cut them, and that weapons could not damage them, for they had been made with cunning, witchcraft, and incantations. Ivar took the two which were the largest. Then he went to Hringstadir to see the halls and estate which his father had given him the day that he had “fastened” the name of Ivar upon him.

Ivar remembered all that his father had said to him, and was anxious to obtain renown and wealth, and so he and his foster-brother went one morning to Hjorvard and said: “Now tell us, father, of the Viking whom thou knowest to be the bravest and strongest.”

Hjorvard replied: “You are young men, yet you seem to think that no man can withstand you. But I will tell you of two Vikings of whom I know. They are called Sigurd and Sigmund; they are skilled in many things, and very great warriors.”

“How many ships have they?” asked Ivar.

“They have thirty ships,” replied Hjorvard, “and one hundred and twenty men on each ship.”

“Where have they land?” inquired Hjalmar.

“In the southern part of Svithjod,” replied Hjorvard. “They are on land in winter, and lie on board their warships in summer.”

“We will go and try to find where they are, and fight them,” cried both foster-brothers at the same time. “And we will see who are the foremost Vikings and champions in the land.”

The day after this conversation the champions of Hjorvard returned with a great deal of booty they had won in the countries subject to Rome, and Hjorvard asked some of them to join his son and Hjalmar. “For,” said he, “they are still inexperienced in the art of war.”

The foster-brothers at once set to work to make their fleet ready, which did not take long, for the vessels had been subjected to a thorough overhauling during the winter. The Elidi had been fitted up very splendidly, and Ivar placed on board his body-guard and berserks; the prow defenders were most carefully selected, for they were to defend his standard. The whole of the crew were berserks, who surpassed others in strength and bravery. Picked men were also stationed at the stern, and the number on board was two hundred and forty. Ivar’s foster-brother Hjalmar had also a picked crew, among them skilful archers and sling men, who had not their equal in the land. The standard of Ivar, which his foster-mother had made for him, floated on board of the Elidi, and Hjalmar’s on board the Trani.

Two days before the sailing of the fleet of the foster-brothers, Ivar came to his father, and said to him: “Tell me, father, some of the omens that thou thinkest might be useful to men who go to wage war.”

Hjorvard answered: “Many warnings are useful if men know them and heed them. The following of the black raven is good for a warrior, for it means victory. No man should fight against the late shining sun, sister of the moon. There is danger for thee if thou stumblest or fallest from thy horse when thou rushest into fight, for faithless family spirits stand on either side of thee. If thou walkest out, and art prepared for a journey, and meet on the path men ready to praise thee, and hear wolves under ash trees, good luck wilt thou get if thou seest the wolves ahead of thee. Those are a few of the omens that should be a warning to thee. I want also to give thee some other advice,” he continued. “Wisdom and weapons are not easy to get for the chief that would be the foremost among men. The sons of men need often eyes of foresight in the fight. Early should he rise who wishes to acquire wealth. Seldom does a sleepy wolf get a thigh bone, or a sleepy man victory. Courage is better than the power of swords where the angry must fight. I have seen bold men win victory with a blunt sword. It is better for the bold than for the coward to be in the battle—the game of the Valkyrias. Silent and thoughtful, and bold in battle, should a Hersir’s son be. The unwise man thinks he will live forever if he shuns fight, but old age gives him no peace, though spears may spare him.” After this they separated.

When the foster-brothers were ready to sail, Hjorvard walked down with them to their ships, and bade them farewell lovingly. They sailed away from Dampstadir with a fair wind, and with their sails set, but after a while it became calm, and the vessels had to be propelled by oars. As they were losing sight of land, a crow flew over the ships with loud caws. Ivar looked at it.

Hjalmar said to his foster-brother, “Does it mean anything to thee?”

“It does,” answered Ivar.

Another crow flew over the ship, cawing also. Hjalmar forgot to row, and his oar got loose in his hand.

Ivar said: “Thou art very attentive to the crow; what does it say?”

“I do not know, for I have some difficulty in understanding them.”

Another crow passed over the boat, cawing louder than the two others, and flying nearer the ships. Then Ivar observed: “This signifies much to us. I understand that we will be victorious in our expeditions against the Vikings, for, as my father said to me, the following of the raven is a good omen.”

Finally they sighted the coast of Svithjod, and came to a long and somewhat high promontory and they cast anchor there. Afterwards they put tents upon their ships for the night. The lamps were lighted, and the men, to pass away the time before they went to sleep, played chess; the chess-board used on board of vessels had a hole in each square, and each piece a peg to make it fast, so that the rolling of the ship could not upset the game. When tired, they put themselves into their leather bags and went to sleep.

The following morning Ivar went ashore to see if he could discover aught or hear any news, but he saw no houses or people. After walking a while across the promontory, he observed thirty ships lying at anchor and war tents near the beach. The crew was ashore and engaged in practising athletic games; some were wrestling, others were running and jumping, and many were performing warlike exercises with swords and spears, and shooting at targets with arrows.

Sigmund and Sigurd steered these ships, that is, were their commanders; and these two men were the very Vikings whom Hjorvard had mentioned to Ivar and his foster-brother.

Ivar immediately returned to his ships, and told the great news to Hjalmar and his men.

“What shall we do next?” thereupon asked Hjalmar.

“We will divide our men and our ships,” Ivar answered, “into two equal squadrons. Thou, Hjalmar, shalt with half the ships pass the cape and raise a battle cry against those who are on shore, and hoist the red shield. I will land from this side with two-thirds of my crew, go along the forest, and with them raise another battle cry. Then perhaps they may be startled by our appearance, and conclude to retire into the forest, and nothing further happen.”

Hjalmar rounded the cape with his ships, and Ivar landed with his men, and the plan suggested by Ivar was carried out. Sigmund and Sigurd and their men, however, were not in the least startled when they heard the battle cry of Hjalmar at sea, and another battle cry on land. They stopped their games while the shout lasted, and then continued as before. Hjalmar then went ashore to meet Ivar, and after they met, Ivar said: “I know not for certain whether these men are afraid or not, for they do not seem to mind our war cry.”

“What will you have us do?” inquired Hjalmar.

“That is soon told,” replied Ivar; “we will not steal upon them; we will stay this night at the cape and remain there until morning.”

When morning came, the foster-brothers landed with all their men, and marched towards Sigurd and Sigmund, who had all their men armed and in readiness for a conflict.

When Sigurd and Sigmund saw Hjalmar and Ivar coming towards them, they went to meet them. Sigurd was high-born and a very great Viking; he had travelled far and wide, and seen countries that were unknown to most people; he was short of stature, and had attained the meridian of life; gray hair was beginning to show itself; he was the oldest of the four chiefs.

Sigmund was also high-born, younger than Sigurd, but older than Ivar and Hjalmar. Sigurd asked, when they met, who was their leader. Ivar answered: “There is more than one chief here.”

“What is thy name?” asked Sigmund.

“My name is Ivar, son of Hjorvard of Dampstadir; and my foster-brother is Hjalmar, son of Gudbrand of Engel.”

“What is your errand here?” said Sigurd.

Ivar answered: “I wish to know which of us is the more powerful.”

“How many ships have you?” asked Sigurd.

“We have twenty ships,” said Ivar. “And how many have you?”

“We have thirty ships,” answered Sigurd.

“That is great odds against us,” said Ivar.

“Ten ships’ crews shall not take part in the battle,” replied Sigurd, “and man shall fight against man.”

“This is fair,” answered Ivar, “and it is the law of valiant men.”

Both sides arrayed their men and made themselves ready for the conflict, which was speedily begun, and continued all day. Towards night the peace shield was raised, and Sigurd asked Ivar, “What thinkest thou of this day’s conflict?”

Ivar answered, “I am well pleased.”

“Wilt thou play the game again?” asked Sigurd.

“That is my intention,” replied Ivar, “for I never found better and hardier champions. We will begin the battle again at full daylight.”

The men then went to their war booths and dressed their wounds.

The next morning both sides arrayed their men for the battle, and fought all day. When it began to grow dark, the peace shield was again raised. Sigurd asked Ivar how the fighting pleased him on that day.

“Very well,” was the answer.

“Wilt thou, then,” said Sigurd, “try this game the third day?”

Ivar then replied, “Then we will finish the fight.”

Hearing this, Sigurd, who was a man of great common sense, said to Ivar: “May we expect much booty on your ships if we gain the victory?”

“Far from it,” Ivar replied; “we have taken none this summer.”

“I think,” said Sigurd, “I have nowhere met more foolish men than here, for we only fight out of pride and rivalry.”

“What wilt thou do, then?” inquired Ivar.

“Let us become foster-brothers,” replied Sigurd, “for we are of equal valor.”

“Well said,” answered Ivar and Hjalmar; “for we think it right that we should bind our friendship, and swear one another foster-brotherhood. It will be a great boon for us all, as we four will become the greatest warriors and Vikings of the land.”

The following morning, preparations were made to carry out the proposal of the preceding afternoon, that Ivar and Hjalmar should become foster-brothers with Sigmund and Sigurd.

It was a common custom, which had come down from the remotest times, formally and solemnly to form ties of friendship between men by swearing one another foster-brotherhood. This relation was of a most sacred and binding character; those who made the compact pledged themselves to be unselfish and true to each other for life, and to share the same dangers.

These four Vikings first cut three long slices of turf in a semi-circular shape, the ends of which were fastened into the ground, and the loops raised so high that those who were to swear foster-brotherhood could go under them. Under these loops, they placed a spear inlaid with mystic signs, of such a height that a man could reach with his hand the nail fastening the socket of the spear-point to the handle.

The warriors on both sides had assembled to witness the ceremony. It was a beautiful summer day; the sun shone brilliantly, nature was smiling, birds were singing in the groves, butterflies and bees were flitting from wild flower to wild flower; no one could ever dream of the fierce conflict of the preceding days.

In the midst of profound silence, Sigurd advanced towards Ivar and the three other Vikings, and said to them: “You are aware that from immemorial time, it has been the custom of valiant men, who make this agreement of foster-brotherhood between themselves, that the one that lives the longest should avenge the others, if they are slain with weapons or otherwise.”

“Yes,” answered Ivar, Hjalmar, and Sigmund.

Then they prepared themselves for the oath of foster-brotherhood, which was sacredly binding, although not taken on the temple ring as oaths generally were. Sigurd, Hjalmar, Sigmund, and Ivar then passed under the loop, and drew blood from the hollow of their hands, and let it run together into the mould which had been cut under the loop of the turf, and mixed together the earth and the blood; thereupon they all fell on their knees, and took oaths to ratify their agreement, and called upon Odin, Frey, Njord, and the other gods as witnesses; and then they all clasped hands, according to ancient custom, as a seal to their oaths.

The four foster-brothers agreed that they would never rob traders and Bondi or other men, except when they must make a raid on land for their men in case of need, in which case they were to pay full value for what they took. Never were they to rob women, though they should find them temptingly rich, nor should women be brought on board their ships against their will; and should a woman show that this had been done against her will, the man of the crew found guilty of such a crime against this law should lose his life for it, whether he were powerful or not.

It was also agreed that they should possess in common the booty they might get on Viking expeditions, and that whichever lived the longest should have a mound raised over the others after the battle or otherwise, and place therein as much property as seemed to him most befitting their rank.

And be it told now, that to their death they loved each other dearly, and never violated in the slightest manner the duties that were imposed upon them by their compact of foster-brotherhood.

The first thing the four foster-brothers concluded to do in concert, after consultation, was to visit Gudmund, Sigurd’s father, who was a powerful Hersir, and ruled over the large island, called to-day Oland, near the coast of the present Sweden, and to apprise him of their new relationship. They set sail, and after a short and pleasant voyage, their ships cast anchor in a bay where to-day the quiet little town of Borgholm stands. At that time Gudmund’s burg stood there, and near by are still seen many graves and mounds of that period.

The foster-brothers were received with great kindness, and there was great drinking and feasting. Ivar was seated in the second high seat during their visit. After a stay of a week, they made their ships ready, intending to sail southward and visit Gudbrand to apprise him also of their new relationship. When the time came for them to depart, Gudmund followed them to the ships, and as they were ready to embark, presented Sigurd with three arrows which had a famous name, and were called Gusi’s Followers. The feathers were gilded, and they were ornamented with gold.

“These arrows,” said Gudmund, “Ketil Hoeng, thy great-great-grandfather, took from Gusi, who ruled over the Fins; they hit and bite everything they are aimed at, and were forged in the days of old by Dvergars.”

Sigurd thanked his father, saying: “No gifts have I which I prize more highly,” after which they sailed away. Soon they came to a beautiful bay, on the shore of which were seen very many very ancient cairns, near where to-day the little sleepy town of Cimbrisham is to be seen. These graves were filled with beautiful bronze weapons and many gold objects.

They landed and found the place in great commotion, for a trial by ordeal was to take place. A bond-woman named Hjerka had told Vemund, the Hersir who ruled there, that she had seen Gunvor, his wife, and a man of the herad walk together. Vemund was no longer merry after he heard this, for he loved his wife dearly, but he wished to be sure that what the bond-woman had said was true, before he took steps to avenge himself. But he had not thus far succeeded, and no one was ever seen with his wife. Nevertheless his jealousy preyed upon him, and one day as he was speaking to her, his sadness was so marked in his countenance that she asked the reason why. Then he told her that he thought she loved another.

Upon hearing this, she was struck speechless with indignation. Her eyes flashed fire, her pure heart revolted against such an accusation or insinuation, her face turned pale and flushed alternately; then a sudden look of despair, of intense pain and sorrow, followed her looks of anger. Was it possible that her husband could believe such a tale?

Then she said to him: “I will take oaths before thee and many men, upon the white holy stone, that I have not acted with anyone as thou seemest to believe. Send for Halfdan, the ruler of Zeeland, that he may consecrate the boiling caldron.”

The foster-brothers were just in time to witness the trial. Halfdan was sent for, and in the presence of hundreds of witnesses who had come to see the ordeal, he consecrated with the sign of the hammer of Thor the caldron before the water was boiling, and the holy white stone used for such an ordeal.

Then Gunvor said with a loud voice, heard through the hall by those present, “I cannot call on my brothers to avenge such an accusation with the sword, for they are all dead. Look now, men, I am truthful. See how the water boils. Let Herkja go to the cauldron, she who attributes treachery to me.”

Herkja put her hand into the cauldron to take the sacred stone, and no one could witness a more pitiful sight than those who beheld how the hands of Herkja were scalded. When the people saw this, they said that Herkja was guilty of false accusation and perjury, and they led the maid into a foul mire, where she met her death.

The following day, Knut, an uncle of Sigurd, who had become very old, felt that his last days were approaching; and as there was universal peace, he could not fall on the battle-field, and so go valiantly to Valhalla, as all warriors did who died fighting the foe. He determined, nevertheless, that he would not die in his bed, for he did not wish to go to Hel. It was the belief of the Norsemen, that those who had not fallen by weapons went to Hel. Hel was one of nine worlds that composed the universe, but in that Hel there was no punishment. So he called his family together, and divided among them his gold and silver and other valuable things, and then told them that he was going to throw himself from a high cliff, for all who did this were believed to go to Valhalla. His family followed him cheerfully, and as he was on the brink of the precipice whence not infrequently men threw themselves down, they bade him a happy journey to Valhalla, and he took forthwith the fatal plunge. A large mound was raised over him, and all the people extolled his courageous deed.

After witnessing the ordeal, and the death of Knut, the four foster-brothers continued their voyage, skirting the shores of the peninsula, passing several beautiful burgs and estates. Several days afterwards, they cast anchor at the mouth of a river almost opposite the island of Engel, for they did not stop at Hrafnista, as Gudbrand and Sigrlin had gone on a visit north, to friends who lived on the shores of the present Christiania fjord.

There ruled a valiant Hersir, named Gautrek the Old, who in his day had been a foremost Viking, but on account of his age had given up warfare. He had nine sons by Alvig the Wise, daughter of Eyvind of Holmgard. They were called Thengil, RÆsir, Gram, Gylfi, Hilmir, Jofur, Tyggi, Skuli, Harri. These nine brothers became so famous in warfare, that in all songs their names are used as names of rank. All fell in battle, having never married.

A great feast was prepared for Ivar, his foster-brothers and his men. Gautrek had a beautiful daughter of the name of Svanhild, and after the guests had been seated, she entered the hall with several maidens, and advanced to the high seat which Ivar occupied, opposite to that of her father; she handed to him a drinking horn of gold, filled up with mead, and said: “Hail to thee, Ivar, son of Hjorvard! Hail to you all, ye warriors that have come with him!” Then she seated herself by her father.

There was great feasting and drinking during the time they remained with Gautrek, and after a stay of three days, which was the accustomed time for a visit of that kind, Ivar left the place with his fleet, and continued to sail northward. A short summer gale sprang up; during the time it lasted, the Elidi was ahead of all the other ships, for she was very swift, and but few vessels were her equal in speed in the whole northern land. The fleet got shelter behind the numerous islands that line the coast, and made ready to enter the stream which is now known as the Hams river, upon which the town of Hamstad is situated, in the province called to-day by the name of Halland. The peace shields were hoisted at the mastheads, and shields were placed all along the gunwales, and the dragons of red gold shone resplendently in the light of the sun.

Arnfid Hersir ruled over the country. When the ships cast anchor, he was seated on the mound of his father, which overlooked the river and the sea. It was his custom to sit there and hunt with his hawks; these brought him from time to time a hare, black cock, or a partridge. He recognized the Elidi by its pennant, and knew that its commander was Ivar, the son of Hjorvard “the wide spreading,” one of his companions in arms and foster-brother. The ships often disappeared from his sight on account of the bends in the river, which were covered with forests, but finally they cast anchor below the burg or residence of Arnfid.

Arnfid sent messengers to invite Ivar and his foster-brothers and their men to come ashore, as the Gotlanders had never ravaged his realm. The invitation was accepted.

Ivar thereupon addressed his friends and followers in this wise: “Let us beware of drinking too much. A man carries on the road no better burden than sound wit and common sense. Wisdom is needed by him who travels widely. No provisions on a journey weigh a man to the ground more than too much ale. The ale of the sons of men is not so good as men say it is, for the more a man drinks the less wit he has. The spirit that hovers over ale-bouts is called the ‘heron of oblivion;’ it steals away men’s senses. The ale is best when every man gets his reason back. Strife and ale have caused grief of mind to many men; death to some, curses to others. Many are the evils of mankind. Thou shalt not quarrel with drunken men. Many an one’s wits wine steals. Nevertheless, a man may not send away the cup, but drink moderately.”

Ivar and his men dressed themselves in their best and went ashore, when they were immediately led to the banqueting hall, where a great feast was prepared in the honor of Ivar and of his foster-brothers and their following. Arnfid was seated in his high seat and welcomed his guests; he bade Ivar to sit in the high seat opposite his.

Arnfid had a daughter celebrated for her beauty and accomplishments; her name was Ingegerd, and before the feast had begun, she came to the hall with several handsome maidens who were visiting her. They were beautifully attired. Ingegerd herself wore a red dress of thick woollen material, lavishly embroidered with gold. The material had been brought to her by her father on his return from a voyage to the Caspian. The train, several feet in length, swept gracefully on the floor. Her hair was braided and fell over her shoulders gracefully, as was the custom with young maidens. A beautiful gold band encircled her forehead. Round her snowy neck hung a necklace of delicate gold beads. Her tall and slender form was made to appear still more graceful by a belt of gold of exquisite workmanship that encircled her waist. Her arms were adorned by two delicate spiral gold bracelets, and on one of the fingers of her right hand was a spiral ring ending in snakes’ heads, that had belonged to her mother.

Before the meal was served, Arnfid announced that seats were about to be allotted; that men and women might drink together as many as could, and that men without companions should drink by themselves. So they placed lots in a cloth, each with the name of a guest written upon it. Arnfid was to pick them out. The lot fell that Ivar should drink with Ingegerd and sit next to her that evening.

When ready to sit down, Ingegerd sang haughtily to Ivar: “What wilt thou do, lad, in my seat? For seldom, if ever, hast thou given a wolf warm flesh, nor hast thou seen the raven croak over the battle-field; neither hast thou been where swords meet and where Valkyrias soar over the fallen.”

These words meant that Ivar had never been in battle, so that neither wolf nor raven nor Valkyrias had followed him; and if this was so, he was not worthy to sit by her side.

Ivar looked at her beautiful and proud face, and sang: “I have handled the bloody blade, the ravens have followed my track; I have made warfare and been the champion in many games of strength and skill. Be not so proud, maiden; like thyself, I am of Odin’s kin. The son of Hjorvard follows in the footsteps of his father.”

When Ingegerd heard these words she smiled, looking at him, and seated herself by his side, and they drank together and were merry. Many a maiden was seated by the side of brave and mighty champions that day—men who had seen many lands. There was nothing in the world which these Norse women appreciated more than personal bravery, and none but the very bravest could aspire to the hand of those of high lineage. Wine, ale, beer, and mead were served in drinking cups of glass from Greece, or in silver cups of great beauty, with repoussÉ work of gold, representing panther chasing deer, and horses running away. These also had come from the Black Sea, where the Greeks had colonies.

The food was served in silver dishes containing roast pork, veal, birds, and fish. Two sorts of bread were on the table—one kind soft and made of rye; the other flat, almost as thin as wafers, the same kind as is served in Norway to-day.

When the men had begun to be somewhat too merry for the presence of women, Ingegerd and the maidens who had come with her to the feast rose and left the hall, bidding all good-night. But that night Ingegerd herself could not sleep. Her thoughts were always reverting to Ivar, and, without knowing it, she loved him; or, perhaps, her feeling was infatuation rather than love.

Therefore, the next day she prepared the drink of oblivion for Ivar, to cause him to forget the girl he loved—in case he did love another—and sent her maid-servant to invite him to her bower. She had prepared the draught with many incantations and according to a mystic formula. It was of ice-cold sea water, sacrificed blood, a long ling fish, an unripened wheat ear, sacrificed intestine of beast, herbs of every forest, burned acorns, the soot of the hearth, a boiled swine liver, to which were added all kinds of mystic runic letters painted red. After Ivar had come she bade him drink, which he did, but whether it was an efficacious potion or not could not be proven, as he had no sweetheart to forget.

On the third day the foster-brothers made ready to leave. Arnfid wanted them to stay longer, but Ivar said to him: “One should take leave in good time. The guest should not remain too long; the loved one often becomes loathed by staying over many days.”

So they parted in great friendship. Arnfid gave Ivar a handsome sword, with hilt and scabbard ornamented with gold; also an axe inlaid with gold, of very fine workmanship, and costly presents to his foster-brothers and men. Ivar gave also costly presents to Arnfid and his men.

Ingegerd, from her bower, with a heavy heart, watched the ships sailing away, and wondered if she would ever see Ivar again. But, as is often the case among the sons and daughters of men, Ivar and Ingegerd were never to meet again. The Nornir had parted them that day for life, and were to prevent them from continuing the courtship that was written in runic letters of gold upon the heart of Ingegerd. The memory of the hours passed between Ivar and her was all that was to be left. It was but a dream, but how lovely and short was that dream! Love had germed and grown up in three days, but it was doomed to perish, though that episode of their lives was never to be forgotten. Yet Ingegerd married, and many a time during her life her thoughts wandered back to the days we have just spoken of. She thought it was wrong to think of them, but we have no command over our thoughts; they will come unawares in spite of our will, and the memory of the past will cling to us until death. How wise it is that no one can read our thoughts! For if it were otherwise, how many happy homes might be made unhappy indeed!

The foster-brothers, after leaving Arnfid, stopped at Engelholm, Gudbrand and Sigrid having returned. There was great joy in Hrafnista on their arrival. Hjalmar was to remain at home that winter.

Ivar sailed to Dampstadir with Sigurd and Sigmund, for he wanted his father to know his two new foster-brothers. They were to spend the winter with him, and all were to meet again the following spring.

Hjorvard and Sigrid were on the shore to meet their son. They had heard of his two new foster-brothers, for Ivar had written them about the fight they had had, and what had followed, and gave them a hearty welcome to Dampstadir.