Northland Heroes Part 1

Northland Heroes.

by Florence Holbrook.

PREFACE

For centuries the songs of Homer, the blind poet of Greece, recounting the heroic deeds of great Hector and lion-hearted Achilles, have delighted the children, young and old, of many lands. But part of our own heritage, and nearer to us in race and time, are these stories of Beowulf and Frithiof.

The records of lives n.o.bly lived are an inspiration to n.o.ble living.

With the hope that the courage, truth, endurance, reverence, and patriotism shown by these heroes of the Northland will arouse interest and emulation, this little book is offered to our children.

"The Story of Frithiof" is based upon Holcomb's translation of Bishop Tegner's poem, "The Saga of Frithiof," and the quotations are used by the kind permission of Mrs Holcomb and the publishers.

FLORENCE HOLBROOK.

THE STORY OF FRITHIOF

In Hilding's Garden

So they grew up in joy and glee, And Frithiof was the young oak tree; Unfolding in the vale serenely The rose was Ingeborg the queenly.

In the garden of Hilding, the teacher, were two young children.

Ingeborg was a princess, the daughter of a King of Norway. The boy, Frithiof, was a viking's son. Their fathers, King Bele and Thorsten, were good friends, and the children were brought up together in the home of Hilding, their foster-father and teacher.

Hilding was very fond of them both. He called the boy Frithiof an oak, for he was straight and strong. The little Ingeborg he called his rose, she was so rosy and sweet.

All day roaming over field and grove the strong lad cared for the little maid. If they came to a swift-flowing brook he would carry her over. When the first spring flowers showed their pretty heads Frithiof gathered them for Ingeborg. For her he found the red berries and the golden-cheeked apples.

In the evening they sat at the feet of their kind teacher and together they learned to read. Often they danced on the sward at twilight, when they looked like golden-haired elves in a fairy dance.

When Frithiof had grown into a st.u.r.dy youth he often hunted in the forests. He was so strong that he needed neither spear nor lance.

When he met the wild bear they struggled breast to breast. Both bear and youth fought bravely, but at last Frithiof won. Home he went gaily, carrying the great bear-skin, which he gave to Ingeborg. She praised his bravery and strength, for every woman loves courage.

While Frithiof roamed the forest for game, Ingeborg, at the loom, wove beautiful tapestries. Pictures of sea and grove, blue waters and waving trees, grew under her deft fingers. Then she wove warriors on horseback, with their shining shields and their bright red lances.

Soon the face of the leader was seen; 'twas the face of her brave playmate, Frithiof.

In the long winter evenings around the fire, Ingeborg heard the story of the G.o.ds. The light shining upon her fair face made her lovely as one of the G.o.ddesses. Frithiof thought her hair as golden as Freya's treasure.

When darkness held the quiet earth They gathered round the welcome hearth, And Hilding told them stories old Of G.o.ds and kings and heroes bold.

So Frithiof and the lovely Ingeborg grew to love each other. But when Hilding saw that the viking's son dared to love the daughter of a king, he said: "Frithiof, my dear foster-son, in vain are your hopes.

Ingeborg is a king's daughter. Your reason should tell you that you cannot marry her. Proud is King Bele of his family descended from the great G.o.d Odin. He will have his daughter marry a prince, not a yeoman. Well do I love you; brave and handsome are you and strong as any prince, but you must forget your love for Ingeborg."

Then the brave youth smiled and said: "I am free-born, and never will I yield. I killed the forest chief, and honour is mine for the deed.

All power is n.o.ble--Thor who hurls the thunderbolts is n.o.ble, although Odin is king of the G.o.ds. So free-born men shall never yield though kings are on the throne. In Thor's kingdom, where all strength is, worth is king, not lineage. The sword always speaks with power; never will I forget Ingeborg, but will fight all the world for her."

The free-born man will never yield, He owns the world's unconquered field; Where worth and not descent is leader The sword is e'er a valiant pleader.

King Bele and Thorsten

The words by an old man spoken should not be slighted

In the great palace stood the old King Bele and his friend, Thorsten the faithful. Both had lived brave lives and longed for Valhalla, the home of heroes.

"The evening of life comes over me," said King Bele, "but as death draws nearer, the glory of heaven seems brighter. I have called our sons to the throne room, dear friend, to speak words of warning and help. To-morrow it may be that I shall sleep in death, and it will be too late."

[Ill.u.s.tration: King Bele and his sons]

Into the throne room came the two princes obedient to their father's command. Helge, the elder, was dark and gloomy. Halfdan, the younger, fair and gay, came with untroubled heart, thinking only of games and hunting.

After these came Frithiof, son of Thorsten, taller and stronger than the princes. He stood between the brothers, shining in beauty like the sun.

"Sons of my heart," said the king gently, "my life on earth is ending.

Rule the kingdom together. While you are united no power can destroy you. Let freedom bloom through all the land, and use your power, O Helge, as a shield for your people.

"The power the king possesses comes from the people, and foolish is the ruler who is cruel and hears not their cry. The great and good king is merciful, and kindness can do more than cruelty. Boast not of the greatness of your ancestors. Each man uses but one bowstring, and that is his own. Who cares for the worth that is buried? The good man is true to his own heart, and thus makes himself great.

"A joyous spirit is yours, O Halfdan, and it is good. But idle talk is needless and weakens kings. Hold fast to your friend and choose the best, but do not give your love and faith to all men. Fools win no praise though they be kings, but the wise are loved and honoured by all men, no matter how lowly they may be."

Then Thorsten spake: "Not alone, O Bele, shall you go to Odin. Always have we stood together, and death shall not divide us.

"Hear me, my son, my Frithiof, and slight not the words of the old.

"First, give the G.o.ds high honour, for good or ill, Storms come as well as sunshine, by Heaven's will.

Great strength is Heaven's dower; but, Frithiof, learn That power devoid of wisdom, can little earn.

"Obey your king. One must be king, and others are happiest when obeying wise directions. The shields of brave men are the best protection for a country against the swords of an enemy, and law is the best defence against treason. Young men should listen to advice and should test the strength of friendship by use.

"All men will surely perish, with all they prize, But one thing know I, Frithiof, which never dies,-- And that is reputation! therefore, ever The n.o.ble action strive for, the good endeavour."

It was pleasant to hear Bele and Thorsten talk of their lives together.

Much they told of the wonderful adventures of their youth, when they travelled to strange lands in their swift-moving boats. They had been friends through good fortune and ill, with hands clasped together and hearts united. In battle they had stood back to back, facing their enemies. If one was threatened by an enemy, the other was on guard and defended his friend.

The king spoke much of the bravery of Frithiof, and said that his heroic power was better than all royal birth. Thorsten in return praised the gifts of Helge and Halfdan. Thus did they give an example of friendship between a king and his man. With the memory of their long friendship King Bele urged his sons and Frithiof to be friends too.

"But hold ye fast together, ye children three, The Northland then your conqueror shall never see; For royalty and power, when duly ordered, Are like a bright shield golden, by blue steel bordered."