Part Two

Viggo

Now Big Beate had a brother who was bigger still than she. He was eight years old, and he was a wild, mischievous boy. His name was really only Viggo, but he had read an old story about a terrible, bearded viking by the same name, who sailed from land to land killing and robbing and bringing with him on his ship all the gold and silver which he found and all the pretty girls. So Viggo got a hatchet, just such a one as he had read that the old Viking had, and he told his sister that after this she must call him Viggo the Viking, for a Viking he would be when he grew up. In the yard he ran after the chickens and the ducks; he wanted to try his strength and the ax on their heads. They cackled and screamed and flew away from him and this only made the little viking the braver. But when he came to the geese, with uplifted ax, shouting his wild war cry, the old gander got angry, bent his long neck and pinched Viggo the Viking's leg so that he threw his ax down and ran screaming and howling away. The old gander knew well enough the code of the vikings, that vikings are not allowed to rob and kill in their own country, no not even on the other side of the goose pond.

One day Viggo the Viking came up to his sister. He looked wild, wore a big paper helmet on his head and frowned angrily.

"Now I am going to carry away the pretty girls in this land, that is what I have come for," said he. "You are too big, but Little Beate is surely going to be mine. I'll carry her far, far away, at least to the pine woods and perhaps even to the pasture, and you shall never see her any more, in all your life."

"You are a naughty boy, and give us nothing but trouble, that is what Mother said too, the other day," said Beate. "Little Beate has done you no harm, she hasn't even said a word to you."

"Has not done anything to me?" said the viking. "Didn't she stand on the flower pot yesterday under the big geranium, when I came and put my horse there? Don't you think I saw that she pushed my horse so that he fell down and broke his left hind leg? If I did what she deserves, I should cut her head off," said the viking, and he tried the edge of his little ax with his fingers.

"Oh! you are a terrible boy," said Beate, "but I know well how to hide Little Beate, so that you shall never touch her."

Then she went straight to her little friend and told her sorrowfully what a naughty boy Viggo was, that he intended to kill her, and that she, Big Beate, didn't dare to have her inside the house. "But I know a place where I shall hide you well so that he shall never find you," said she.

Then she took her little friend and went with her behind the barn to a high stone fence. Close up against it stood a briar rose bush laden with blossoms, the pale pink roses hanging down on all sides. It made a little fragrant bower and there Little Beate should stay in its shade and shelter and sit on a grass bench. When night came, and it grew damp and cold, she should not be uncomfortable for she had her warm cape there, and raisin cookies she had on a platter by her side, and all about her the roses bloomed so prettily.

Then Big Beate kissed her good-bye and good-night, and begged her to be patient, and by no means to go out so that Viggo the Viking should see her. Big Beate promised surely to see her the next morning and find out how she had slept, and then she went quietly away.

Beate had hardly time to wash her face the next morning before she ran to her little friend. She was afraid that Little Beate might have been scared in the dark, because she was all alone in the little bower during the night. Beate ran as fast as she could and came out of breath to the briar rose bush. But you can't imagine her sorrow. Little Beate was not there, her cape and hat lay on the ground, but her little friend was gone. Nowhere was she to be found. Beate searched and called her name, but no answer came. It was Viggo the Viking who had carried her away, she knew. As sorrowful as she now was, Big Beate had never been before in all her life. She burst into tears and turned home slowly with a broken heart.

Who should after this be her best friend, who always was willing to do what she wanted? And who should be godmother to her first daughter when she grew up?