"Missing bear-fights is certainly undesirable," he said. "But it was not long ago—and on this same bank—that I anticipated a worse fate than that."
"Nevertheless, I have never seen so much service exacted from a king's page," Sigurd growled, as he bent to brush the dirt from his knees.
But Rolf shook his head with quiet decision.
"One need never tell me that it is only to keep you from saying fine things to Helga that the chief demands your constant presence. It is because he has come to take comfort in your superior intelligence, and to value your attendance above ours. There, he is calling you now! I foretell that you will not fight bears to-morrow either." He gave the broad back a hearty slap that was at the same time a friendly shove forward.
The chief's voice had even taken on an impatient accent by the time the young squire reached his side.
"I should like much to know what is the cause of your deafness! Are you dead or moonstruck that I must shout twenty times before you answer? If your wits go sleep-walking, then may we as well give up, for I have depended upon them as upon crutches. I want you to keep it in mind for me that it is after the river's second bend to the right, but its fourth bend to the left, that the trees stand which I wish to mark. And the spring—the spring is—"
"And the spring is beyond the third turning to the right," the young man finished readily. "The chief need give himself no uneasiness. It is written on my brain as on parchment."
Leif turned from him with something like an angry sigh.
"It needs to be more than written," he said. "It needs to be carved as with knives."
On the crest of the bluff he paused suddenly to shake his fists in a passion of impotence.