Tales of a Wayside Inn Part 8

Southward sailed the sea-gulls o'er him, Southward sailed the ship that bore him, Till at Drontheim haven landed Olaf and his crew again.

XII.

KING OLAF'S CHRISTMAS.

At Drontheim, Olaf the King Heard the bells of Yule-tide ring, As he sat in his banquet-hall, Drinking the nut-brown ale, With his bearded Berserks hale And tall.

Three days his Yule-tide feasts He held with Bishops and Priests, And his horn filled up to the brim; But the ale was never too strong, Nor the Saga-man's tale too long, For him.

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 Over theirs.

The gleams of the fire-light dance Upon helmet and hauberk and lance, And laugh in the eyes of the King; And he cries to Halfred the Scald, Gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald, "Sing!"

"Sing me a song divine, With a sword in every line, And this shall be thy reward."

And he loosened the belt at his waist, And in front of the singer placed His sword.

"Quern-biter of Hakon the Good, Wherewith at a stroke he hewed The millstone through and through, And Foot-breadth of Thoralf the Strong, Were neither so broad nor so long, Nor so true."

Then the Scald took his harp and sang, And loud through the music rang The sound of that shining word; And the harp-strings a clangor made, As if they were struck with the blade Of a sword.

And the Berserks round about Broke forth into a shout That made the rafters ring: They smote with their fists on the board, And shouted, "Long live the Sword, And the King!"

But the King said, "O my son, I miss the bright word in one Of thy measures and thy rhymes."

And Halfred the Scald replied, "In another 'twas multiplied Three times."

Then King Olaf raised the hilt Of iron, cross-shaped and gilt, And said, "Do not refuse; Count well the gain and the loss, Thor's hammer or Christ's cross: Choose!"

And Halfred the Scald said, "This In the name of the Lord I kiss, Who on it was crucified!"

And a shout went round the board, "In the name of Christ the Lord, Who died!"

Then over the waste of snows The noonday sun uprose, Through the driving mists revealed, Like the lifting of the Host, By incense-clouds almost Concealed.

On the shining wall a vast And shadowy cross was cast From the hilt of the lifted sword, And in foaming cups of ale The Berserks drank "Was-hael!

To the Lord!"

XIII.

THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT.

Thorberg Skafting, master-builder, In his ship-yard by the sea, Whistled, saying, "'Twould bewilder Any man but Thorberg Skafting, Any man but me!"

Near him lay the Dragon stranded, Built of old by Raud the Strong, And King Olaf had commanded He should build another Dragon, Twice as large and long.

Therefore whistled Thorberg Skafting, As he sat with half-closed eyes, And his head turned sideways, drafting That new vessel for King Olaf Twice the Dragon's size.

Round him busily hewed and hammered Mallet huge and heavy axe; Workmen laughed and sang and clamored; Whirred the wheels, that into rigging Spun the shining flax!

All this tumult heard the master,-- It was music to his ear; Fancy whispered all the faster, "Men shall hear of Thorberg Skafting For a hundred year!"

Workmen sweating at the forges Fashioned iron bolt and bar, Like a warlock's midnight orgies Smoked and bubbled the black caldron With the boiling tar.

Did the warlocks mingle in it, Thorberg Skafting, any curse?

Could you not be gone a minute But some mischief must be doing, Turning bad to worse?

'Twas an ill wind that came wafting, From his homestead words of woe; To his farm went Thorberg Skafting, Oft repeating to his workmen, Build ye thus and so.

After long delays returning Came the master back by night; To his ship-yard longing, yearning, Hurried he, and did not leave it Till the morning's light.

"Come and see my ship, my darling!"

On the morrow said the King; "Finished now from keel to carling; Never yet was seen in Norway Such a wondrous thing!"

In the ship-yard, idly talking, At the ship the workmen stared: Some one, all their labor balking, Down her sides had cut deep gashes, Not a plank was spared!

"Death be to the evil-doer!"

With an oath King Olaf spoke; "But rewards to his pursuer!"

And with wrath his face grew redder Than his scarlet cloak.

Straight the master-builder, smiling, Answered thus the angry King: "Cease blaspheming and reviling, Olaf, it was Thorberg Skafting Who has done this thing!"

Then he chipped and smoothed the planking, Till the King, delighted, swore, With much lauding and much thanking, "Handsomer is now my Dragon Than she was before!"

Seventy ells and four extended On the gra.s.s the vessel's keel; High above it, gilt and splendid, Rose the figure-head ferocious With its crest of steel.

Then they launched her from the tressels, In the ship-yard by the sea; She was the grandest of all vessels, Never ship was built in Norway Half so fine as she!

The Long Serpent was she christened, 'Mid the roar of cheer on cheer!

They who to the Saga listened Heard the name of Thorberg Skafting For a hundred year!

XIV.

THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT.

Safe at anchor in Drontheim bay King Olaf's fleet a.s.sembled lay, And, striped with white and blue, Downward fluttered sail and banner, As alights the screaming lanner; l.u.s.tily cheered, in their wild manner, The Long Serpent's crew.

Her forecastle man was Ulf the Red; Like a wolf's was his s.h.a.ggy head, His teeth as large and white; His beard, of gray and russet blended, Round as a swallow's nest descended; As standard-bearer he defended Olaf's flag in the fight.

Near him Kolbiorn had his place, Like the King in garb and face, So gallant and so hale; Every cabin-boy and varlet Wondered at his cloak of scarlet; Like a river, frozen and star-lit, Gleamed his coat of mail.

By the bulkhead, tall and dark, Stood Thrand Rame of Thelemark, A figure gaunt and grand; On his hairy arm imprinted Was an anchor, azure-tinted; Like Thor's hammer, huge and dinted Was his brawny hand.

Einar Tamberskelver, bare To the winds his golden hair, By the mainmast stood; Graceful was his form, and slender, And his eyes were deep and tender As a woman's, in the splendor Of her maidenhood.

In the fore-hold Biorn and Bork Watched the sailors at their work: Heavens! how they swore!

Thirty men they each commanded, Iron-sinewed, h.o.r.n.y-handed, Shoulders broad, and chests expanded, Tugging at the oar.

These, and many more like these, With King Olaf sailed the seas, Till the waters vast Filled them with a vague devotion, With the freedom and the motion, With the roll and roar of ocean And the sounding blast.