“Olaf sees farther when he seems asleep than some of us do when we are awake,” answered Steinar hotly.
“Oh yes,” replied Ragnar. “Sleeping or waking, Olaf is perfect in your eyes, for you’ve drunk the same milk, and that ties you tighter than a rope. Wake up, now, brother Olaf, and tell us: Is not the bear dead?”
Then I answered, “Why, of course, a bear is dead; see its skull, also pieces of its hide?”
“There!” exclaimed Ragnar. “Our family prophet has settled the matter. Let us go home.”
“Olaf said that a bear was dead,” answered Steinar, hesitating.
Ragnar, who had already swung himself round in his quick fashion, spoke back over his shoulder:
“Isn’t that enough for you? Do you want to hunt a skull or the raven sitting on it? Or is this, perchance, one of Olaf’s riddles? If so, I am too cold to guess riddles just now.”
“Yet I think there is one for you to guess, brother,” I said gently, “and it is: Where is the live bear hiding? Can’t you see that there were two bears on that ice-head, and that one has killed and eaten the other?”
“How do you know that?” asked Ragnar.
“Because I saw the slot of the second as we passed the birch wood yonder. It has a split claw on the left forefoot and the others are all worn by the ice.”