LOUD the angry wind was wailing To the mouth of Salten Fiord. Though the flying sea-spray drenches, Of the champions there on board, All without the Fiord was quiet, Raud the Strong was wont to ride. ""Tis the warlock! 'tis the demon To the ship's bow he ascended, On the bow stood Bishop Sigurd, High amid the rain and mist. Then with holy water sprinkled As into the Fiord they darted, Steadily rowed King Olaf's ships; Steadily burned all night the tapers, Till at last they reached Raud's dwelling Not a guard was at the doorway, Not a glimmer of light was seen. But at anchor, carved and gilded, With its crest and scales of green. Up the stairway, softly creeping, Bolt and bar that held the door. Drunken with sleep and ale they found him, Then King Olaf said: "O Sea-King! Be baptized, or thou shalt die!" But in scorn the heathen scoffer Thee and thy Gospel I defy!" Then between his jaws distended, When his frantic struggles ended, Touched by fire, they forced to glide. Sharp his tooth was as an arrow, But without a groan or shudder, Raud the Strong blaspheming died. Up the streams of Salten Fiord. Grasping, steered into the main. Southward sailed the sea-gulls o'er him, XII. KING OLAF'S CHRISTMAS. AT Drontheim, Olaf the King Drinking the nut-brown ale, Three days his Yule-tide feasts And his horn filled up to the brim, O'er his drinking horn, the sign He made of the Cross divine, As he drank, and muttered his prayers; But the Berserks evermore Made the sign of the Hammer of Thor The gleams of the fire-light dance Upon helmet and hauberk and lance, And laugh in the eyes of the King; |