Then again, appeared to him the nine Valkyrias with Skuld, who had followed them all the way; their spears glittered in the moonlight. Skuld’s hair sent rays of light out over the night. For a while she hovered over their boat, and then threw down upon the earth a superb ball of fire, a shooting star; then with the Valkyrias she disappeared in the direction of the Well of Urd. Every day the Nornir take the holy water from the well, and, mixing it with the clay that lies round it, pour it over the ash tree, Yggdrasil, that the branches may not dry up or decay.
When the two boats came close together again, Sigurd saw two shadows reflected in the water, more beautiful to him than those of stars and of all that had been reflected in the water since Odin had made the world. They were the shadows of Thorana and of Thordis. Their beautiful faces, their graceful forms, their long hair, were like an apparition from the deep. It was as if the two beautiful daughters of Ægir and Ran, Dufa “the dove,” and Ud the “loving,” had come to see the men who were in the boats.
Sigurd remained spell-bound before the sight, when, by a motion of the boat, the shadow disappeared, never to reappear on the beautiful waters of Eagle Lake, and in a short time they found themselves once more on the shore.
Sigurd mentioned to no one that he had beheld Valkyrias with Skuld, and the beautiful shadows of Thorana and Thordis, but all these visions had made a deep impression on his mind, and he remained thoughtful all the way home. The following day he made a sacrifice to the goddess Var, who, as we have said, listens to the vows of love men make; but no one ever heard of that vow. But we may safely say that the drive that beautiful night and the row on Eagle Lake was never forgotten by any of those who were there, as long as they lived.
A few days after the events we have just mentioned, Thorana and Thordis made ready to go to their respective homes. The last evening of their stay saw the same party together in the hall where they met first. Nothing save death could have prevented Sigurd from being present. The following morning all met on board of the ship that was to take his two lovely cousins away from the island. A host of friends came to bid them good-by, all apparently happy, for none had yet realized how they would miss each other, and the good time they had all had, and that regrets were soon to follow, and all wondered if all of them would meet again.
They parted with many expressions of love and friendship, and the following day a messenger came and handed to Sigurd a message written in mystic runes. It was from his cousins, who had written it on their way home. These magic words were: “With best love, from your broken-hearted cousins!” and a flush of joy overspread his face when he read this loving message. He immediately sent a messenger to them with another message, telling of his lonely feelings.
Sigurd felt utterly wretched after the departure of his two cousins, though they were to meet again. A feeling of intense loneliness came over him; all that was bright and cheerful in the island had gone; the wind moaned; the waves, as they struck the shores, seemed to sing mournfully in his ears, “Thy three cousins are gone, the rocky cliffs will see them no more.” He even dreaded to pass the skemma where they had stayed. No maiden could cheer him, for in his eyes none were so lovely and accomplished as Thorana, Ragnild, and Thordis.
He whiled away the time by writing on birch bark a saga, in which he recounted all that had happened on the island. Finally he concluded to depart, and after sailing a few days he came to a burg where a foster-brother by the name of Thorkel and he had been brought up together. But Thorkel had been dead for several years. Sigurd wanted to see his grave, and, after landing and telling his errand to the people, he went towards the mound where Thorkel and his wife lay silently side by side. They had been married but a short time ere Skuld snapped asunder the thread that measured the days of their lives. He ascended the mound and murmured to himself, “Here Thorkel and his wife lie. The thinking minds that guided and moved their actions during their lives have left them. Helpless, motionless, and without life they sleep.”
Looking up, he saw a butterfly of brilliant colors, with wings of gold and rainbow tints, full of life, going merrily from one flower to another, drinking of their nectar.