In vain the boy and his mother called on Nils to desist; the drunkard
took no notice. Arne rushed to a corner of the room and picked up an
axe; at the same moment Nils fell down, and, after a piercing shriek,
lay quite still.

All that night they watched by the dead. A feeling of relief came upon
them both.

"He fell of himself," Arne said simply, for at first his mother was
terrified by the sight of the axe.

"Remember, Arne, it's for your sake I've borne it all," Margit said,
weeping. "You must never leave me."

"Never, never," he answered fervently.


_II.--The Call of the Mountains_


Arne grew up reserved and shy; he went on tending the cattle and making
songs. He was now in his twentieth year. The pastor lent him books to
read, the only thing he cared for.

Many a time he would have liked to read aloud to his mother, but he
could not bring himself to do it. One of the songs he made at this time
began:

The parish is all restless, but there's peace in grove and wood.
No beadle here impounds you, to suit his crabbed mood;