Oh, ho! you boy from Hoel, don't you hear?
If you have pluck, we call you to appear!
They stood awhile, watching. Then they darted forward, turned two or three somersaults, and ran down the hill toward her, repeating their call and shouting. Again they stopped and listened, as if uncertain.
"Ho-i-ho!" Again they challenged:
If you lie hid behind some bush or stone,
Come out and show there's marrow in your bone!
Then the two boys came to the bottom of the hill, where Lisbeth's flock was, and looked around. No, they did not see any one. The new herder from Hoel, who dared to lose track of his flock the first day, must be a reckless young scamp—a fellow it might be fun to get acquainted with. Very likely he had heard of their bathing place in the Sloping Marsh. Probably that was where he had gone now.
Well, they would take his animals with them and go there themselves; but first they would give another call. Perhaps he was not so far away but that he might hear if they gave a good loud one.
"Ho-i-ho!" From far away echo repeated the sounds in "dwarf language," as the Norwegian boys call it.
When all was still again, there sounded close at hand, as thin and clear as the peep of a bird, "Ho-i-ho!"