and spoke.

"None of these things will please the god. More costly is the
offering that shall cleanse your sin, more precious the crimson
dew that shall send new life into this holy tree of blood. Thor
claims your dearest and your noblest gift."

Hunrad moved nearer to the handful of children who stood watching
the red mines in the fire and the swarms of spark-serpents darting
upward. They had heeded none of the priest's words, and did not
notice now that he approached them, so eager were they to see
which fiery snake would go highest among the oak branches.
Foremost among them, and most intent on the pretty game, was a boy
like a sunbeam, slender and quick, with blithe brown eyes and
laughing lips. The priest's hand was laid upon his shoulder. The
boy turned and looked up in his face.

"Here," said the old man, with his voice vibrating as when a thick
rope is strained by a ship swinging from her moorings, "here is
the chosen one, the eldest son of the Chief, the darling of the
people. Hearken, Bernhard, wilt thou go to Valhalla, where the
heroes dwell with the gods, to bear a message to Thor?"

The boy answered, swift and clear:

"Yes, priest, I will go if my father bids me. Is it far away?
Shall I run quickly? Must I take my bow and arrows for the
wolves?"

The boy's father, the Chieftain Gundhar, standing among his