'I cannot talk of such things just now,' answered the father, who
could not bear the thought of giving his favourite daughter to
this horrible old man, and hoped, by putting it off, that
something might happen. But the sisters, who had always been
rather jealous of Helga, were secretly pleased that their
bridegrooms should outshine hers.

When the feast was over, Habogi led up a beautiful horse from a
field where he had left it to graze, and bade Helga jump up on
its splendid saddle, all embroidered in scarlet and gold. 'You
shall come back again,' said he; 'but now you must see the house
that you are to live in.' And though Helga was very unwilling to
go, something inside her forced her to obey.

The old man settled her comfortably, then sprang up in front of
her as easily as if he had been a boy, and, shaking the reins,
they were soon out of sight.

After some miles they rode through a meadow with grass so green
that Helga's eyes felt quite dazzled; and feeding on the grass
were a quantity of large fat sheep, with the curliest and whitest
wool in the world.

'What lovely sheep! whose are they?' cried Helga.

'Your Habogi's,' answered he, 'all that you see belongs to him;
but the finest sheep in the whole herd, which has little golden
bells hanging between its horns, you shall have for yourself.'