song sank down. And Hereward rode on, rejoicing in it all. It was a fine
world in the Bruneswald. What was it then outside? Not to him, as to us, a
world circular, sailed round, circumscribed, mapped, botanized,
zoologized; a tiny planet about which everybody knows, or thinks they know
everything: but a world infinite, magical, supernatural,--because unknown;
a vast flat plain reaching no one knew whence or where, save that the
mountains stood on the four corners thereof to keep it steady, and the
four winds of heaven blew out of them; and in the centre, which was to him
the Bruneswald, such things as he saw; but beyond, things
unspeakable,--dragons, giants, rocs, orcs, witch-whales, griffins,
chimeras, satyrs, enchanters, Paynims, Saracen Emirs and Sultans, Kaisers
of Constantinople, Kaisers of Ind and of Cathay, and beyond them again of
lands as yet unknown. At the very least he could go to Brittany, to the
forest of Brocheliaunde, where (so all men said) fairies might be seen
bathing in the fountains, and possibly be won and wedded by a bold and
dexterous knight after the fashion of Sir Gruelan. [Footnote: Wace, author
of the "Roman de Rou," went to Brittany a generation later, to see those
same fairies: but had no sport; and sang,--
"Fol i alai, fol m'en revins;
Folie quis, por fol me tins"]

What was there not to be seen and conquered? Where would he go? Where
would he not go? For the spirit of Odin the Goer, the spirit which has
sent his children round the world, was strong within him. He would go to
Ireland, to the Ostmen, or Irish Danes men at Dublin, Waterford, or Cork,
and marry some beautiful Irish Princess with gray eyes, and raven locks,
and saffron smock, and great gold bracelets from her native hills. No; he
would go off to the Orkneys, and join Bruce and Ranald, and the Vikings of
the northern seas, and all the hot blood which had found even Norway too
hot to hold it; and sail through witch-whales and icebergs to Iceland and