Chapter 25

"AND THERETO THEY PLIGHTED TROTH BOTH OF THEM."

Do you wonder how so many people (and the boys in particular) contrived to amuse themselves on that little island for a whole long summer day? I could write a volume about it, and still leave something to tell. Perhaps, some day, we shall hear what each person said and did and discovered on that occasion, but at present we must confine ourselves to the chief incidents.

First of these was the spreading of a bountiful lunch on a soft flat spot of turf, as green and fragrant as an English lawn, although yearly washed by the wild salt billows of the rough Atlantic, and never touched by spade or ploughshare. Then there was the lighting of a fire in the skeö, and the boiling of potatoes, and the infusing of tea. And when all these preparations where almost complete, Yaspard stood upon a knoll and blew lustily on his "Looder-horn" a signal agreed upon, and which brought all the scattered party together near the flag-staff.

When they were all assembled, some casting very longing looks towards the banquet so invitingly spread on snowy linen with a border of emerald grass, others looking with some curiosity at the young host and master of ceremonies, Fred said, "I've got a little speech to make, friends, if you will have patience to hear me. I have a little present to give to the little queen of our revels, and I can't do so without the little speech."

"Hear! hear!" from some of the listeners, and one (his sister Isobel, be it known) said loud enough for all to hear--

"There was a little man, And he had a little gift For to give unto a little little maiden, oh."

Fred shook his head at her. "Don't spoil my eloquence, Bell! I won't say much, you may be sure."

He drew a paper from his pocket, and the smile on his bright handsome face deepened into a wonderful resemblance to the chastened gracious light which had given so much attraction to his father's countenance. There was much, too, of his father's dignity and ease in his air, and tears sprang to many eyes as that striking likeness was noted.

"His father's son, dear lad!" the Yarl whispered to Mrs. Holtum, who could only look up with quivering lips in reply.

"My friends," Fred resumed, in graver tones, "you know why we are all here to-day. We meet to rejoice over little Signy's preservation, and we meet _here_ to thank God who made this little holme a havn[1] for her. It was well named Havnholme. It has given shelter to many a storm-tossed bark. The tiny bay yonder has ever been the one safe shelter amid the breakers and billows which surround both Lunda and Boden. There is no other haven of refuge between your island, Mr. Adiesen, and mine, and we unite to-day in thanking God that little Signy was saved on Havnholme. In time past, my friends, the cross-currents were too much for some of the human barks that were out for life's voyage, and they swamped among the skerries instead of finding the calm shelter of this islet. We--that is, Mr. Adiesen and myself--are so thankful to-day, that we have agreed that the best expression of our gratitude will be a conferring of all our rights in Havnholme upon the little lady who is queen of our party. Little Signy, you are to be henceforth sole owner of Havnholme! This paper is the legal document transferring to you this island as the free gift of your uncle and myself. But there is another and more interesting method of assuming the rights of property; and, my friends, we purpose that Signy Adiesen, Esquiress, of Havnholme, shall 'turn turf' after the old Shetland manner. I have loosened one or two sods here, so that she will be able to turn them easily.

"There is just one small thing more to say. A number of you heard me, as captain of a crew of sea-rovers, advise Yaspard Adiesen to sail under this royal old flag, this fair tricoloured cross, and to make the black badge of Thor into a pall! Yaspard has agreed to my proposal.

"His little sister possessed a doll which seems to have been an ill-omened creature all its days. Its legs and arms were always coming off, its eyes have been renewed many times, but never kept their position without a squint. It was often lost; it frequently fell on people's toes, bruising them and wounding the feelings of inoffending mortals. It was an evilly-disposed doll evidently, and received the name of the 'Feud.' This doll died the day Signy went to ransom the Viking. It died by the deed of Pirate, who, finding it in a place where it ought not to have been, bore it to his hold, as any other pirate would, and gnawed the life out of it!

"Well, my friends, our Viking has shrouded the doll Feud in his black flag, and the turf Signy turns will cover its grave! And now my little speech is ended."

Amid the wildest of cheers and the happiest of smiles Yaspard deposited the doll Feud, rolled up in his Viking flag, in the hole which Fred had dug; and when it was almost levelled up, Signy took the spade and deftly "turned turf" as directed. A few pats with the flat side of the spade soon put the turf in proper position; and when the grave of Miss Feud was finished, Yaspard flung his cap in the air and shouted, "Death to all feuds! So perish all the queen's enemies!"

"The feud is dead! Long live Queen Signy!" cried Fred, lifting the little girl in his arms; and then Bill Mitchell terminated the proceedings by calling out, "I vote we go to dinner now, or Thor will have demolished the best part of it."

To be sure, Thor, taking advantage of such an excellent opportunity, when no eye was upon him (for Pirate had slunk to his master's feet when the doll was produced, thinking that his misdemeanour was about to be declared and punished, and had no attention to bestow on a marauder), had hopped on to the table-cloth, and was rapidly investigating the "spread" with an eye to future confiscation. Fortunately, Bill was more interested in the food than in the feud, and gave notice of Thor's depredation in time to prevent any serious calamity to the dinner.

Everybody hastened to the level ground, and were soon seated and busy over the good things which Mrs. Garson had provided with her usual consideration of individual tastes and necessities. When the more serious part of the meal was concluded, and tea and fruit was circulating, there was a great cry for Garth's ballad of the Boden boy who long years before had come to a tragic end in Lunda. So the young scald modestly, but with capital effect, recited his story of

HEL-YA WATER.[2]

"Where the sod is seldom trodden, Where the haunted hillocks lie, Where the lonely Hel-ya Water Looks up darkly to the sky; Where the daala mists forgather,[3] Where the plovers make complaint, Where the stray or timid vaigher[4] Calls upon his patron saint;

Where the waves of Hel-ya Water Fret around a rugged isle, Where the bones of Yarl Magnus Lie below a lichened pile, There the raven found a refuge, There he reared his savage brood; And the young lambs from the scattald Were the nestlings' dainty food.

Year by year the Viking's raven Made that mystic spot his rest; Year by year within the eyot Brooded he as on a nest; And no man would ever venture To invade the lone domain Where in solitary scheming The grim bird of doom did reign.

It was Yule-time, and the Isles' folk Sained[5] the children by their fires; Lit the yatlin,[6] filled the daffock,[7] As of ealdon did their sires. There was wassail in each dwelling, And the song and dance went round; And the laugh, the jest, the music, Rose above the tempest's sound.

Ho! the winds are raging wildly, Ho! the thunders are awake-- Tis the night when trows[8] have licence Over saitor,[9] hill, and brake. Power is theirs on land and water, While the Yule-star leads the night; For where trows may trice their circlet There they claim exclusive right.

Yelling round the Hel-ya Water, Sobbing by its eyot drear, Screaming with the tempest-furies, Over hillock, over mere; On the wings of silent snow-flakes, On the bulwands[10] from the rill, By the haunted Hel-ya Water Flit those heralds of all ill.

There the dismal bird of boding Is exulting with the storm. Who will dare to-night, and conquer The old raven's sable form? Who will venture to the vatn,[11] Where the phantoms of unrest Set their weird and magic signet On each knoll and wavelet's crest?

See, young Yaspard's eye is blazing, With the fires so fleet and free: Come of Magnus, yarl and sea-king, Son of Norland scald is he: Well he knows the gruesome story Of that evil-omened bird, And of trows and vengeful demons He hath dreamed and he hath heard.

But his heart is hot and steadfast, And his hands are strong to try; He will dare with fiends to combat-- He will dare, and he will die. Forth against the howling tempest, Forth against each evil power, Wild and reckless, went young Yaspard In a dark unguarded hour.

Cold the surf of Hel-ya Water Breaks around the Norseman's grave, And the boy is lifted rudely By each charmed and chafing wars. Now he struggles boldly onward, Now he nears the haunted isle, Where in grim and boding silence Waits the bird of woe and wile.

Fain is Yaspard to encounter That fierce harbinger of gloom-- Fain to dare the spells of magic, Fain to foil the wrath of doom. Hark! the solitary raven Croaks a note of death and pain, And a human call defiant Answers from the flood again.

* * * *

Morning breaks: a snow-drift cover All the drear deserted earth; In young Yaspard's home is weeping, Quenched the fire upon his hearth. But he broke the spells of evil, And he found a hero's grave. When you pass the Hel-ya Water Cast a pebble to its wave." [12]

[1] Haven.

[2] Holy lake.

[3] Lowland mists meet each other.

[4] Wanderer.

[5] Guarded by Christian rites from evil spirits, who are supposed to have great licence at Yule.

[6] Candles used on festive occasions.

[7] Water bucket which was always required to be full of _clean_ water at Yule.

[8] Trolls.

[9] Plains or pasture-land.

[10] Bullrushes which trows are supposed to use as aerial horses.

[11] Fresh-water lake.

[12] When passing any haunted water people cast therein a stone to appease the troubled spirits.