II
“No tree falls at the first stroke”
—Northern saying.
“One touch of a certain three-cornered leaf,” the forester reasoned as he moved along the winding trail, “is able to make a man’s flesh change color and swell over his eyes like a wild hog’s fat. More power lies in the earth than simpletons think of. What would be wonderful about it if such water should breed a vapor befogging to the wits? Not the wits of all men, perhaps—it was seen that the courtman had his about him—but those of all who have not Sigmund’s strength against poison.” Reasoning relapsed into mortification. “It goes hard to be taught that I am one of the weaklings. Troll take the Pool!” For a while his track over the soft leaf-mould showed that his heels ground deeply.
Presently he made an effort to crowd the incident out of his thoughts by taking up the broken thread of his song, and reeling it off with a dogged energy that sent the words far through the silent forest and set its echo-heart athrob. They were brave words, telling the brave old tale of the wooing of Fridtjof the Bold; perhaps they would have charmed away his ill-humor if they had not been cut short.
Parting like gold-embroidered tapestries, two yellow-leaved bushes a little way ahead disclosed another courtman from the hunting train, a young man magnificent in scarlet leather clothes of distinctly un-Norse make. After a critical survey of the figure in deerskin, he lifted the forefinger of one gloved hand,—a gesture that had upon the forester the effect which the scarlet dress would have had upon a bull.
“Fellow,” he said blandly, “I have to tell you that your voice has had the good luck to please a noble maiden’s ears. Follow me that she may gratify her curiosity.”
Akin to the motion of his finger was a perpetual slight smile moulding his thin lips. The forester took note of that also, and felt antagonism become a deep satisfying force within him. Coming slowly to a halt, he picked his answer with drawling deliberation.
“Fellow, if you had not the good luck to be foreign to the forest, I would make you unpleasing to a noble maiden’s eyes. As it is, I have to say that to see me following you would be more apt to provoke curiosity than to gratify it,—and you may take that as best suits you!”