“Do you remember that I could drag you under water, when we swam together, as often as I pleased?”
“Yes,” returned Eystein; “but I could swim as far as you, and dive as well; and I could run on snow skates so well that no one could beat me, and you could no more do it than an ox.”
“I think,” said Sigurd, “you could hardly draw my bow, even if you took your foot to help.”
“I am not so strong at the bow, but there is less difference in our shooting near.”
“Beside,” continued the tall Sigurd, “a chief ought to be taller than other men, easily seen and distinguished.”
“Nay,” said Eystein, who was the handsomest man in Norway, “good looks may be an equal distinction. Besides, I am more knowing in the law, and my words flow more easily.”
“Well, you may know more law quirks. I have had something else to do,” said the rough warrior. “No one can deny you a smooth tongue; and some say you do not keep to what you promise—which is not kingly.”
“Yes, I promise satisfaction to one party before I have heard the other, and then am forced to take something back. It would be easy to do like you—promise evil to all. I never hear any complaint of your not keeping this promise to them.”
“Ay, and while I made a princely voyage, you sat at home like my father’s daughter.”
“There you take up the cudgel,” said Eystein, merrily; “but I know how to answer. If I did sit at home, like my father’s daughter, you cannot deny that, like a sister, I furnished you forth.”