  “Ho for a sledge ride over the frozen lake!” cried Ring one day; and the servitors hastened to loose one of the pawing steeds from the royal stables and harness it before a splendid sledge, over the seat of which was thrown a silky sealskin. “’Tis not safe on the lake,” said the stranger. “The ice is thin and weak in some parts, and should it give way, full cold and deep would be thy bath!” “Nay, not so easily do monarchs drown,” replied the King; “let him who fears it, go around the shore!” The stranger said no more, but frowning darkly, hastened to fasten on his steel skates, while the impatient courser pawed the air and whinnied loudly. “Speed on, my steed,” cried Ring, “and let us see if thou art sprung from Sleipner’s blood!” Away dashed the sledge with the speed of the whirlwind, the stout-hearted old king exulting in the motion and heeding not the entreaties of his wife; but swift as they flew, the stranger still outstripped them, circling about in wide curves or cutting figures on the ice. Meanwhile, false Ran, the spouse of the Sea-god, has marked what is passing above. She cleaves a broad fissure in the sea’s silvery roof, and into the up-foaming waves plunge horse and sledge. But swift as the wind flies the stranger thither. Fixing his steel shoes firmly in the ice, he seizes the horse by the mane and with a mighty jerk, pulls it and sledge together back on to the ice. “In sooth,” said the King, “that deed doth merit praise; e’en Frithiof himself could do no better. And now, my Fleet-of-foot, let us back to the palace again.” |
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