vikings,--and he cried out to his companion:

"Enough, Ole, enough!"

Then the boy caught his knives and thrust them one by one into his
belt, and, turning shoreward, strode quickly down the plank and
made his way through the cheering crowd, followed by Thorgils. Many
of the vikings called him back with offers of reward, and Sigurd
Erikson tried to arrest him as he passed. But the young slave only
gave a careless laugh and ran swiftly away.

Now it seemed that Sigurd had a mind to go after him. But as he
was leaving the crowd he met a certain rich merchant of the town,
and he said:

"Tell me, Biorn, who is this yellow haired lad that has just proved
himself so skilful at the knife feat? And whence came he into
Esthonia?"

The merchant shook his head and said:

"He is a wild and wilful loon, hersir, and of no account to any man.
As to his feat with the knives, had I my will I'd have it instant
death to any thrall who should so much as touch a sharpened weapon."

"By his looks I would judge him to be Norway born," said Sigurd.

"That may well be," returned the merchant, "for it is true that he
came with the west wind. It was I who bought him from the vikings,
with another of his kind--one Thorgils, who is to this day my bond