Milton.
Not many months after the foregoing, Sigurd, followed by a score of his wild Vikings, sought the cave of the priest Olaf, and they received of the old priest a very hearty but a very grim welcome.
"Welcome, Jarl! welcome, skalds! all of ye. Ye are the bonniest warriors I have seen for many a day," he croaked. Truly the sunken eyes of the gnarled old Viking sparkled with strange delight, at the sight of so many hardy-looking warriors. He went round to every man of them, and felt severally the stoutness of their limbs, examined their weapons, capering gleefully at the old-style weapons he was so familiar with, and grunting and muttering gibberish all the time of his inspection. Such a display of force, unmistakably of the old stock, seemed almost to make him young again; and he mumbled snatches of old time sagas, and weird folk-talk of bygone generations.
Truly they were a desperate, and a desperate-looking band,—wild, daring, and uncouth; having all the instincts of wild beasts,—recking nothing of life, unless it were accompanied by some wild triumph over their enemies, and caring nothing for death; for it meant to them an entrance into Valhalla, the Viking's heaven.
"Priest," said Sigurd, "have ye any message of forth-telling for us? We are hotly pursued by these foreign dogs; they have hunted us out of our mountain fastnesses, and now they tread on our heels closely. They are encamped for the night in a neighbouring valley, and we cannot shake them off, for they are tracking us with sleuthhounds. Shall we give them battle to-night? Our stomachs are empty, and we shall be sore pressed on the morrow."
"Skalds, tarry ye here a little while and eat, and I will inquire for ye. Skuld is our friend, and he rules all man slaying. He will hear me this night, and if he ride with you to battle, woe will be to these Normans—ye shall sweep them before ye. We will set up the Skaldstong[7] also, presently, and invoke our ancient god Odin, that he may send his 'Maidens of Victory,' the 'Valkyrias,' and if they help, what shall hurt ye? Ye shall hurl your enemies to the ground and slay them every one. Come into my cave, the night falls in."
So saying, the old priest led the way into a spacious cavern, which opened out from the vast cleft where they stood. To the right of the cave a wood fire was burning low, and along the edge of it there were a number of natural seats, formed by ledges of the rock. Olaf bade his visitors be seated, then he lighted several torches at the fire, and suspended them against the rocky sides of the cave. In their flickering and fitful light the cave presented a very weird appearance. Here and there the white and jagged surfaces of the limestone rock seemed like human figures standing in the shadows, whilst the dark recesses threw them out like sentinels on guard.
Evidently it was a great occasion for the priest Olaf,—his ghostly office had fallen greatly into disuse of late years, to his great grief and chagrin. But troublous times had come, and men, unable to cope with their enemies, came now humbly to him for aid in their dire distress; and as he rambled about the cave, his mumbling, muttering and chanting never ceased. First he ransacked the cave for food for these famishing guests, and whilst they were eating he mended his fire. Then, from a stone coffin in one of the recesses, he fetched the whitened bones of some famous chieftain who had led them in the olden time. These he proceeded to fasten around his neck and body. Next he fetched from another recess a long pole with runes carved upon it. This he erected, and made it to stand by inserting its lower end in a hole evidently prepared for it. This was the "Skaldstong" or Imprecation pole: its use being to invoke the curses of Odin upon their enemies, and to invoke the help of the "Valkyrias," whom warriors often saw riding on fiery steeds to their help.
All this time Olaf never ceased the horrid chant, or song. Strange gibberish indeed—sometimes running into metric verse, which he chanted in a rude sing-song voice—at other times it was wild imprecations and interjections, which he flung out with frenzied gestures, and in thrilling tones and loud.