The leader smiled and shook his head, and the band of fine-looking, picked men indulged in a hearty laugh.
“What are you mocking and gibing at?” cried the youngest boy fiercely. “Do you think that because I and my brothers are young we cannot fight?”
“Yes,” cried the eldest brother; “we can shoot an arrow with any of you. Pick out your four best men, Jarl Cerda, and we’ll shoot against them.”
“Yes,” said another. “You know we can shoot well.”
“Do I not?” said the jarl; “for I taught you.”
“Yes, yes; they can all shoot well,” came in concert.
“Oh, yes, they can shoot,” said the leader; “but I have no time to prove it.”
“Of course not,” cried Alfred. “Never mind that. Lead on.”
“I’m afraid we should never catch the Danes if you boys came,” said the jarl solemnly.
“Why?” cried Bald, the eldest.