"What do you say to being my shepherd?" asked the bonder.
"I should very much like the office," answered Thorgaut. "I am as strong as two ordinary men, and a handy fellow to boot."
"I will not engage you without forewarning you of the terrible things you may have to encounter during the winter night."
"Pray, what may they be?"
"Ghosts and hobgoblins," answered the farmer; "a fine dance they lead me, I can promise you."
"I fear them not," answered Thorgaut; "I shall be with you at cattle-slaughtering time."
At the appointed season the man came, and soon established himself as a favourite in the house; he romped with the children, chucked the maidens under the chin, helped his fellow-servants, gratified the housewife by admiring her curd, and was just as much liked as his predecessor had been detested. He was a devil-may-care fellow, too, and made no bones of his contempt for the ghost, expressing hopes of meeting him face to face, which made his master look grave, and his mistress shudderingly cross herself. As the winter came on, strange sights and sounds began to alarm the folk, but these never frightened Thorgaut; he slept too soundly at night to hear the tread of feet about the door, and was too short-sighted to catch glimpses of a grizzly monster striding up and down, in the twilight, before its cairn.
At last Christmas Eve came round, and Thorgaut went out as usual with his sheep.
"Have a care, man," urged the bonder; "go not near to the gill-head, where Glámr lies."
"Tut, tut! fear not for me. I shall be back by vespers."