This is the best of drink,
That every one afterwards
Comes to his senses.”
High Song of Odin the Old.
Many minutes had not expired, during which brief space the fishermen had been luxuriating in their dry clothes, when the boats were seen working their way back across the tail of the Aal Foss rapid, as they returned with the party from the right bank, which, after bobbing about on the ripples and cross currents, shot into their little harbour beneath the encampment.
Birger came up the bank, half-laughing, yet looking as if he had been doing something he was ashamed of.
“Where the deuce have you been, Birger?” said the Captain, as that worthy threw himself on the turf under the birch-tree: “Jacob says you have been sacrificing to Nyssen, whoever he is.”
“So I have,” said Birger; “but don’t speak so loud. I will tell you all about it.”
“Not speak so loud,” said the Captain; “why not?”