They saw much to stir them that morning. On the slope above
Hernersfiord stood the royal hall of Hakonstad, the seat of the
kings of Sogn; and all about the house, and right down to the
water's edge, there was a great bustle and movement of men. From
the upland valley at the fiord head, warriors trooped down to the
ships that lay by the long stone pier. The morning sun glanced on
their helmets and coats of mail, and in the still air the clash of
preparation rang far up the pine-clad hillside. He could see some
bringing weapons and provisions down to the shore, and others
busily lading the ships. Women mingled in the crowd, and every
here and there a gay cloak and gilded helm marked a leader of
rank.

"Ay, the season has come for Vikings to put to sea again," he
said. "Brave and gay are the warriors of Sogn, and lightly they
leave. When a man is young, all roads are pleasant, and all lead
home again. Many have I seen set sail these last sixty years, and
their sailing led them--where?"

And then again, as the stir increased, and he could see the men
beginning to troop on board the long ships,--

"This voyage shall be as the falling of snowflakes into the sea;
but what man can escape his fate?"

Meanwhile a party of men had just left the woods, and were coming
down the path to the fiord, ten or twelve in all, headed by an
exceedingly broad, black-bearded man, clad in a leather coat
closely covered all over with steel scales, and bearing on his