was led out through the gates.

Very soon the little town in which he had lived in bondage for
seven long years, and the sea that he loved so well, were left far
behind. Sigurd and his followers rode southward over the hills,
and then through long dreary dales, that were strewn with large
boulder stones that made travelling very difficult. There was only
a narrow horse track to guide them, and soon even this was lost in
the rank herbage, and the land became a wild desolate waste without
sign of human dwelling, but only the bare rugged hills, with here
and there a thread of water streaming down them into the lower
land. Olaf began to feel very weary, and the jolting of the pony
over the rough ground became painful to his untrained limbs. But
at last the hot sun sank in a blaze of gold, and the first day's
journey came to an end.

A halt was made within the shelter of a vast forest of pine trees,
at the side of a wide, deep stream. Here the horses and mules were
unburdened and allowed to wander, with dogs to watch them lest they
strayed too far. Some of the men then set to raising tents, others
gathered cones and dry twigs to build a fire, while two mounted
guard over their master's moneybags. When all was ready, food and
drink were served round to all alike.

At nightfall, Olaf and Thorgils, still chained, were put to sleep
on a bed of dry ferns. Near them was another slave, a young man
who seemed to be of a foreign land. They watched him silently until
he was asleep, then as they lay there with the stars shining down
upon them through the dark tree branches, they questioned one the
other concerning what had happened to them that day. Olaf asked