Then the road plunged again into a dense thicket, traversed it,
and climbing to the left, emerged suddenly upon a glade, round and
level except at the northern side, where a swelling hillock was
crowned with a huge oak-tree. It towered above the heath, a giant
with contorted arms, beckoning to the host of lesser trees.
"Here," cried Winfried, as his eyes flashed and his hand lifted
his heavy staff, "here is the Thunder-oak; and here the cross of
Christ shall break the hammer of the false god Thor."

[Illustration--The sacred hammer of the god Thor]



III

THE SHADOW OF THE THUNDER-OAK


III

Withered leaves still clung to the branches of the oak: torn and
faded banners of the departed summer. The bright crimson of autumn
had long since disappeared, bleached away by the storms and the
cold. But to-night these tattered remnants of glory were red
again: ancient bloodstains against the dark-blue sky. For an
immense fire had been kindled in front of the tree. Tongues of
ruddy flame, fountains of ruby sparks, ascended through the
spreading limbs and flung a fierce illumination upward and around.
ward and around. The pale, pure moonlight that bathed the