knocked against the lad with such force that he fell on his knees.
This made him very angry, and he rose quickly to his feet and wrestled
with the pigs, driving them back with blows of his clenched hands.
But the boar was not easily turned. It stood stubbornly glaring
at him with its small bloodshot eyes, then suddenly charged at him
with a savage roar. Olaf leapt up, but too slowly, for his left
foot was caught by the boar's high back, and he rolled over in the
mire. And now his wrath got the better of him, and he leapt at the
boar with a wild cry, seizing its ears in his two hands. Then they
struggled together for many minutes, now rolling over, now breaking
asunder and again returning to the charge. But at last Olaf gained
the mastery, and his adversary lay panting and exhausted on the
coveted straw. Olaf sat upon the animal's side with his bare foot
upon its snout. His arm was bleeding, and there was a long scratch
upon his cheek. But he did not heed his wounds, for he had conquered.

As he sat thus a shadow moved across the yellow straw. He raised
his eyes, and beheld the faces of two men, who looked down upon
him from over the barrier of the pig sty. One of the men was his
master, Reas. The other he quickly recognized as the tall man who
had spoken with him last night. Sigurd Erikson was seated on a
beautiful white horse, and he was arrayed as for a long journey.

"This is the boy you mean," said Reas, as Olaf rose and went on
with his work--"an ill favoured loon you will think him. But had
I expected you I should have seen that he had been well washed and
decently clothed. If you would have him for hard labour, however,
he is at least strong, and I will warrant you that he is healthy,
and has no bodily faults. It may be that he is a little wild and
wilful, but you can tame him, and a sound flogging will do him no