The Modern Vikings

“Yes, I think – I think – I do,” stammered Magnie. “I know some English.”

“Ah, then we shall get along charmingly,” the man remarked, with an encouraging smile. “And I think Harry’s venison steak is done by this time; and dinner, as you know, affords the most delightful opportunity for getting acquainted. Gunnar, our guide, who is outside skinning your reindeer buck, will soon present himself and serve the dinner. Here he is, and he is our cook, butler, chambermaid, laundress, beast of burden, and interpreter, all in one.”

The man to whom the professor alluded was at this moment seen crawling on his hands and knees through the low door-way, which his bulky figure completely filled. He was a Norwegian peasant of the ordinary sort, with a square, rudely cut face, dull blue eyes, and a tuft of towy hair hanging down over his forehead. With one hand he was dragging the skin of the buck, and between his teeth he held an ugly-looking knife.

“Ve haf got to bury him,” he said.

“Bury him!” cried Harry. “Why, you blood-thirsty wretch, don’t you see he is sitting there, looking as bright as a sixpence?”

“I mean de buck,” replied Gunnar, imperturbably.

“And why do you wish to bury the buck? I would much rather eat him. This steak here has a most tempting flavor, and I am quite tired of canned abominations by this time.”

“De volves vill be sure to scent de meat, now dat it is flayed, and before an hour ve might haf a whole congregation of dem here.”

“Well, then, we will shoot them down,” insisted the cheerful Harry. “Come, now, Uncle, and let us have a civilized dinner. I don’t pretend to be an expert in the noble art of cookery; but if this tastes as good as it smells, I wouldn’t exchange it for a Delmonico banquet. And if the wolves, as Gunnar says, can smell a dead reindeer miles away, they would be likely to smell a venison steak from the ends of creation. Perhaps, if we don’t hurry, all the wolves of the earth may invite themselves to our dinner.”

Gunnar, upon whom this fanciful raillery was lost, was still standing on all-fours in the door, with his front half in the warm room and his rearward portion in the arctic regions without. He was gazing helplessly from one to another, as if asking for an explanation of all this superfluous talk. “Vill you cawme and help me, Mester Harry?” he asked at last, stolidly.

“Yes, when I have had my dinner I will, Mester Gunnar,” answered Harry, gayly.

“Vel, I haf notting more to say, den,” grumbled the guide; “but it vould vonder me much if, before you are troo, you von’t have some unbidden guests.”

“All right, Gunnar – the more the merrier,” retorted Harry as, with exaggerated imitation of a waiter’s manner, he distributed plates, knives, and napkins to Magnie and his uncle.

They now fell to chatting, and Magnie learned, after having given a brief account of himself, that his entertainers were Professor Winchester, an American geologist, and his nephew, Harry Winchester, who was accompanying his uncle, chiefly for the fun of the thing, and also for the purpose of seeing the world and picking up some crumbs of scientific knowledge. The professor was especially interested in glaciers and their action in ages past upon the surface of the earth, and, as the Norwegian glaciers had never been thoroughly studied, he had determined to devote a couple of months to observations and measurements, with a view to settling some mooted geological questions upon which he had almost staked his reputation.

They had just finished the steak, which would perhaps have been tenderer if it had not been so fresh, and were helping themselves to the contents of a jar of raspberry preserves, when Harry suddenly dropped his spoon and turned, with a serious face, to his uncle.

“Did you hear that?” he said.

“No; what was it?”

Harry waited for a minute; then, as a wild, doleful howl was heard, he laid his hand on the professor’s arm, and remarked: “The old fellow was right. We shall have unbidden guests.”

“But they are hardly dangerous in these regions, so far as I can learn,” said the professor, reassuringly.

“That depends upon their number. We could tackle a dozen; but two dozen we might find troublesome. At any rate, they have spoiled my appetite for raspberry jam, and that is something I sha’n’t soon forgive them.”

Three or four howls sounding nearer, and echoing with terrible distinctness from the glaciers, seemed to depress Harry’s spirits still further, and he put the jar away and began to examine the lock of his rifle.

“They are evidently summoning a mass-meeting,” remarked the professor, as another chorus of howls re-echoed from the glacier. “I wish we had more guns.”

“And I wish mine were a Remington or a Springfield breech-loader, with a dozen cartridges in it!” Harry exclaimed. “These double-barrelled Norwegian machines, with two shots in them, are really good for nothing in an emergency. They are antediluvian both in shape and construction.”

He had scarcely finished this lament, when Gunnar’s huge form reappeared in the door, quadruped fashion, and made an attempt to enter. But his great bulk nearly filled the narrow room, and made it impossible for the others to move. He examined silently first Harry’s rifle, then his own, cut off a slice of steak with his pocket-knife, and was about to crawl out again, when the professor, who could not quite conceal his anxiety, asked him what he had done with the reindeer.

“Oh!” he answered, triumphantly, “I haf buried him among de stones, vhere he vill be safe from all de volves in de vorld.”

“But, my dear fellow,” ejaculated the professor, hotly, “why didn’t you rather let the wolves have it? Then, at least, they would spare us.”

“You surely vouldn’t gif a goot fresh reindeer, legs and all, to a pack of skountrelly volves, vould you?”

“I would much rather give them that than give them myself.”

“But it is vort tventy dollars, if you can get it down fresh and sell it to de English yachts,” protested Gunnar, stolidly.

“Yes, yes; but you great stupid,” cried the professor in despair, “what do you think my life is worth? and Master Harry’s? and this young fellow’s?” (pointing to Magnie). “Now go as quick as you can and dig the deer out again.”

Gunnar, scarcely able to comprehend such criminal wastefulness, was backing out cautiously with his feet foremost, when suddenly he gave a scream and a jump which nearly raised the roof from the hut. It was evident that he had been bitten. In the same moment a fresh chorus of howls resounded without, mingled with sharp, whining barks, expressive of hunger and ferocity. There was something shudderingly wild and mournful in these long-drawn discords, as they rose toward the sky in this lonely desert; and brave as he was, Magnie could not restrain the terror which he felt stealing upon him. Weakened by his icy bath, moreover, and by the nervous strain of his first adventure, he had no great desire to encounter a pack of ravenous wolves. Still, he manned himself for the occasion and, in as steady a voice as he could command, begged the professor to hand him some weapon. Harry, who had instinctively taken the lead, had just time to reach him a long hunting-knife, and arm his uncle with an ax, when, through the door which Gunnar had left open, two wolves came leaping in and paused in bewilderment at the sight of the fire on the hearth. They seemed dazed by the light, and stood panting and blinking, with their trembling red tongues lolling out of their mouths. Harry, whose gun was useless at such close range, snatched the ax away from the professor, and at one blow split the skull of one of the intruders, while Magnie ran his knife up to the very hilt in the neck of the other. The beast was, however, by no means dead after that, but leaped up on his assailant’s chest, and would have given him an ugly wound in the neck had not the professor torn it away and flung it down upon the fire, where, with a howling whine, it expired. The professor had also found time to bolt the door before more visitors could enter; and two successive shots without seemed to indicate that Gunnar was holding his own against the pack. But the question was, how long would he succeed in keeping them at bay? He had fired both his shots, and he would scarcely have a chance to load again, with the hungry beasts leaping about him. This they read in one another’s faces, but no one was anxious to anticipate the other in uttering his dread.

“Help, help!” cried Gunnar, in dire need.

“Take your hand away, Uncle!” demanded Harry. “I am going out to help him.”

“For your life’s sake, Harry,” implored the professor, “don’t go! Let me go! What would your mother say to me if I should return without you?”

“I’ll come back again, Uncle, don’t you fear,” said the youth, with feigned cheerfulness; “but I won’t let this poor fellow perish before my very eyes, even though he is a fool.”

“It was his foolishness which brought this danger upon us,” remonstrated the professor.

“He knew no better,” cried Harry, tearing the door open, and with ax uplifted rushing out into the twilight. What he saw seemed merely a dark mass, huddled together and swaying sideways, from which now and then a black figure detached itself with a howl, jumped wildly about, and again joined the dark, struggling mass. He could distinguish Gunnar’s head, and his arms fighting desperately, and, from the yelps and howls of the wolves, he concluded that he had thrown away the rifle and was using his knife with good effect.

“Help!” he yelled, “help!”

“You shall have it, old fellow,” cried Harry, plunging forward and swinging his ax about him; and the professor, who had followed close at his heels, shouting at the top of his voice, pressed in Harry’s wake right into the centre of the furious pack. But, at that very instant, there came a long “Hallo-o!” from the lake below, and a rifle-bullet flew whistling above their heads and struck a rock scarcely a yard above the professor’s hat. Several wolves lay gasping and yelping on the ground, and the rest slunk aside. Another shot followed, and a large beast made a leap and fell dead among the stones. Gunnar, who was lying bleeding upon the ground, was helped to his feet, and supported by Harry and the professor to the door of the cottage.

“Hallo, there!” shouted Harry, in response to the call from below.

“Hallo!” someone shouted back.

The figures of three men were now seen looming up in the dusk, and Magnie, who instinctively knew who they were, sprang to meet them, and in another moment lay sobbing in his brother’s arms. The poor lad was so completely unnerved by the prolonged suspense and excitement, that he had to be carried back into the hut, and his brother, after having hurriedly introduced himself to the professor, came very near giving way to his feelings, too. Gunnar’s wounds, which were numerous, though not serious, were washed and bandaged by Grim Hering-Luck; and having been wrapped in a horse-blanket, to keep out the cold, he was stowed away in a bunk and was soon asleep. As the hut was too small to admit all the company at once, Grim and Bjarne remained outside, and busied themselves in skinning the seven wolves which had fallen on the field of battle. Harry, who had got a bad bite in his arm, which he refused to regard as serious, consented with reluctance to his uncle’s surgery, and insisted upon sitting up and conversing with Olaf Birk, to whom he had taken a great liking. But after a while the conversation began to lag, and tired heads began to droop; and when, about midnight, Grim crept in to see how his invalid was doing, he found the professor reclining on some loose moss upon the floor, while Harry was snoring peacefully in a bunk, using Olaf’s back for a pillow. And Olaf, in spite of his uncomfortable attitude, seemed also to have found his way to the land of Nod. Grim, knowing the danger of exposure in this cold glacier air, covered them all up with skins and horse-blankets, threw a few dry sticks upon the fire, and resumed his post as sentinel at the door.

The next morning Professor Winchester and his nephew accepted Olaf’s invitation to spend a few days at Hasselrud, and without further adventures the whole caravan descended into the valley, calling on their way at the saeter where Edwin had been left. It appeared, when they came to discuss the strange incidents of the preceding day, that it was Magnie’s silk handkerchief which had enabled them to track him to the edge of the lake, and, by means of a raft, which Bjarne kept hidden among the stones in a little bay, they had been enabled to cross, leaving their horses in charge of a shepherd boy whom they had found tending goats close by.

The reindeer cow which Olaf had killed was safely carried down to the valley, and two wolf-skins were presented to Magnie by Harry Winchester. The other wolf-skins, as well as the skin of the reindeer buck, Bjarne prepared in a special manner, and Harry looked forward with much pleasure to seeing them as rugs upon the floor of his room at college; and he positively swelled with pride when he imagined himself relating to his admiring fellow-students the adventures which had brought him these precious possessions.

THORWALD AND THE STAR-CHILDREN

I

Thorwald’s mother was very ill. The fever burned and throbbed in her veins; she lay, all day long and all night long, with her eyes wide open, and could not sleep. The doctor sat at her bedside and looked at her through his spectacles; but she grew worse instead of better.

“Unless she can sleep a sound, natural sleep,” he said, “there is no hope for her, I fear.”

It was to Thorwald’s father that he said this, but Thorwald heard what he said. The little boy, with his dog Hector, was sitting mournfully upon the great wolfskin outside his mother’s door.

“Is my mamma very ill?” he asked the doctor, but the tears choked his voice, and he hid his face in the hair of Hector’s shaggy neck.