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  CHAPTER II.

  HOW HEREWARD SLEW THE BEAR.

  Of Hereward's doings for the next few months naught is known. He mayvery likely have joined Siward in the Scotch war. He may have looked,wondering, for the first time in his life, upon the bones of the oldworld, where they rise at Dunkeld out of the lowlands of the Tay; andhave trembled lest the black crags of Birnam should topple on his headwith all their pines. He may have marched down from that famous leaguerwith the Gospatricks and Dolfins, and the rest of the kindred of Crinan(abthane or abbot,--let antiquaries decide),--of Dunkeld, and of Duncan,and of Siward, and of the outraged Sibilla. He may have helped himselfto bring Birnam Wood to Dunsinane, "on the day of the Seven Sleepers,"and heard Siward, when his son Asbiorn's corpse was carried into camp,[Footnote: Shakespeare makes young Siward his son. He, too, was slainin the battle: but he was Siward's nephew.] ask only, "Has he all hiswounds in front?" He may have seen old Siward, after Macbeth's defeat(not death, as Shakespeare relates the story), go back to Northumbria"with such booty as no man had obtained before,"--a proof, if the factbe fact, that the Scotch lowlands were not, in the eleventh century, thepoor and barbarous country which some have reported them to have been.

  All this is not only possible, but probable enough, the datesconsidered: the chroniclers, however, are silent. They only say thatHereward was in those days beyond Northumberland with Gisebert of Ghent.

  Gisebert, Gislebert, Gilbert, Guibert, Goisbricht, of Ghent, whoafterwards owned, by chance of war, many a fair manor about Lincolncity, was one of those valiant Flemings who settled along the east andnortheast coast of Scotland in the eleventh century. They fought withthe Celtic princes, and then married with their daughters; got tothemselves lands "by the title-deed of the sword"; and so became--thefamous "Freskin the Fleming" especially--the ancestors of the finestaristocracy, both physically and intellectually, in the world. They hadtheir connections, moreover, with the Norman court of Rouen, throughthe Duchess Matilda, daughter of their old Seigneur, Baldwin, Marquisof Flanders; their connections, too, with the English Court, throughCountess Judith, wife of Earl Tosti Godwinsson, another daughter ofBaldwin's. Their friendship was sought, their enmity feared, farand wide throughout the north. They seem to have been civilizers andcultivators and traders,--with the instinct of true Flemings,--aswell as conquerors; they were in those very days bringing to order andtillage the rich lands of the north-east, from the Frith of Moray tothat of Forth; and forming a rampart for Scotland against the invasionsof Sweyn, Hardraade, and all the wild Vikings of the northern seas.

  Amongst them, in those days, Gilbert of Ghent seems to have been anotable personage, to judge from the great house which he kept, and the_milites tyrones,_ or squires in training for the honor of knighthood,who fed at his table. Where he lived, the chroniclers report not. Tothem the country "ultra Northumbriam," beyond the Forth, was as Russiaor Cathay, where

  "Geographers on pathless downs Put elephants for want of towns."

  As indeed it was to that French map-maker who, as late as the middle ofthe eighteenth century (not having been to Aberdeen or Elgin), leavesall the country north of the Tay a blank, with the inscription: "_Terreinculte et sauvage, habitee par les Higlanders._"

  Wherever Gilbert lived, however, he heard that Hereward was outlawed,and sent for him, says the story. And there he lived, doubtless happilyenough, fighting Highlanders and hunting deer, so that as yet the painsand penalties of exile did not press very hardly upon him. The handsome,petulant, good-humored lad had become in a few weeks the darlingof Gilbert's ladies, and the envy of all his knights and gentlemen.Hereward the singer, harp-player, dancer, Hereward the rider and hunter,was in all mouths; but he himself was discontented at having as yetfallen in with no adventure worthy of a man, and looked curiously andlongingly at the menagerie of wild beasts enclosed in strong woodencages, which Gilbert kept in one corner of the great court-yard, not forany scientific purposes, but to try with them, at Christmas, Easter, andWhitsuntide, the mettle of the young gentlemen who were candidates forthe honor of knighthood. But after looking over the bulls and stags,wolves and bears, Hereward settled it in his mind that there was noneworthy of his steel, save one huge white bear, whom no man had yet daredto face, and whom Hereward, indeed, had never seen, hidden as he wasall day within the old oven-shaped Pict's house of stone, which had beenturned into his den. There was a mystery about the uncanny brute whichcharmed Hereward. He was said to be half-human, perhaps wholly human; tobe the son of the Fairy Bear, near kinsman, if not uncle or cousin, ofSiward Digre. He had, like his fairy father, iron claws; he had humanintellect, and understood human speech, and the arts of war,--at leastso all in the place believed, and not as absurdly as at first sightseems.

  For the brown bear, and much more the white, was, among the Northernnations, in himself a creature magical and superhuman. "He is God'sdog," whispered the Lapp, and called him "the old man in the fur cloak,"afraid to use his right name, even inside the tent, for fear of hisoverhearing and avenging the insult. "He has twelve men's strength, andeleven men's wit," sang the Norseman, and prided himself accordingly,like a true Norseman, on outwitting and slaying the enchanted monster.

  Terrible was the brown bear: but more terrible "the white sea-deer," asthe Saxons called him; the hound of Hrymir, the whale's bane, the seal'sdread, the rider of the iceberg, the sailor of the floe, who ranged forhis prey under the six months' night, lighted by Surtur's fires, evento the gates of Muspelheim. To slay him was a feat worthy of Beowulf'sself; and the greatest wonder, perhaps, among all the wealth ofCrowland, was the twelve white bear-skins which lay before the altars,the gift of the great Canute. How Gilbert had obtained his white bear,and why he kept him there in durance vile, was a mystery over which menshook their heads. Again and again Hereward asked his host to let himtry his strength against the monster of the North. Again and again theshrieks of the ladies, and Gilbert's own pity for the stripling youth,brought a refusal. But Hereward settled it in his heart, nevertheless,that somehow or other, when Christmas time came round, he would extractfrom Gilbert, drunk or sober, leave to fight that bear; and then eithermake himself a name, or die like a man.

  Meanwhile Hereward made a friend. Among all the ladies of Gilbert'shousehold, however kind they were inclined to be to him, he took a fancybut to one,--and that was to a little girl of eight years old. Alftrudawas her name. He liked to amuse himself with this child, without, as hefancied, any danger of falling in love; for already his dreams of lovewere of the highest and most fantastic; and an Emir's daughter, or aPrincess of Constantinople, were the very lowest game at which he meantto fly. Alftruda was beautiful, too, exceedingly, and precocious, and,it may be, vain enough to repay his attentions in good earnest. Moreovershe was English as he was, and royal likewise; a relation of Elfgiva,daughter of Ethelred, once King of England, who, as all know, marriedUchtred, prince of Northumberland and grandfather of Gospatrick, Earl ofNorthumberland, and ancestor of all the Dunbars. Between the Englishlad then and the English maiden grew up in a few weeks an innocentfriendship, which had almost become more than friendship, through theintervention of the Fairy Bear.

  For as Hereward was coming in one afternoon from hunting, hawk on fist,with Martin Lightfoot trotting behind, crane and heron, duck and hare,slung over his shoulder, on reaching the court-yard gates he was awareof screams and shouts within, tumult and terror among man and beast.Hereward tried to force his horse in at the gate. The beast stoppedand turned, snorting with fear; and no wonder; for in the midst of thecourt-yard stood the Fairy Bear; his white mane bristled up till heseemed twice as big as any of the sober brown bears which Hereward yethad seen: his long snake neck and cruel visage wreathed about in searchof prey. A dead horse, its back broken by a single blow of the paw, andtwo or three writhing dogs, showed that the beast had turned (liketoo many of his human kindred) "Berserker." The court-yard was utterlyempty: but from the ladies' bower came shrieks and shouts, not only ofwomen, but of men; and knocking at the bower
door, adding her screamsto those inside, was a little white figure, which Hereward recognizedas Alftruda's. They had barricaded themselves inside, leaving the childout; and now dared not open the door, as the bear swung and rolledtowards it, looking savagely right and left for a fresh victim.

  Hereward leaped from his horse, and, drawing his sword, rushed forwardwith a shout which made the bear turn round.

  He looked once back at the child; then round again at Hereward: and,making up his mind to take the largest morsel first, made straight athim with a growl which there was no mistaking.

  He was within two paces; then he rose on his hind legs, a head andshoulders taller than Hereward, and lifted the iron talons high in air.Hereward knew that there was but one spot at which to strike; and hestruck true and strong, before the iron paw could fall, right on themuzzle of the monster.

  He heard the dull crash of the steel; he felt the sword jammed tight. Heshut his eyes for an instant, fearing lest, as in dreams, his blow hadcome to naught; lest his sword had turned aside, or melted like water inhis hand, and the next moment would find him crushed to earth, blindedand stunned. Something tugged at his sword. He opened his eyes, and sawthe huge carcass bend, reel, roll slowly over to one side dead, tearingout of his hand the sword, which was firmly fixed into the skull.

  Hereward stood awhile staring at the beast like a man astonished atwhat he himself had done. He had had his first adventure, and he hadconquered. He was now a champion in his own right,--a hero of theheroes,--one who might take rank, if he went on, beside Beowulf, Frotho,Ragnar Lodbrog, or Harald Hardraade. He had done this deed. What wasthere after this which he might not do? And he stood there in thefulness of his pride, defiant of earth and heaven, while in his heartarose the thought of that old Viking who cried, in the pride of hisgodlessness: "I never on earth met him whom I feared, and why should Ifear Him in heaven? If I met Odin, I would fight with Odin. If Odin werethe stronger, he would slay me; if I were the stronger, I would slayhim." And there he stood, staring, and dreaming over renown to come,--atrue pattern of the half-savage hero of those rough times, capableof all vices except cowardice, and capable, too, of all virtues savehumility.

  "Do you not see," said Martin Lightfoot's voice, close by, "that thereis a fair lady trying to thank you, while you are so rude or so proudthat you will not vouchsafe her one look?"

  It was true. Little Alftruda had been clinging to him for five minutespast. He took the child up in his arms and kissed her with pure kisses,which for a moment softened his hard heart; then, setting her down, heturned to Martin.

  "I have done it, Martin."

  "Yes, you have done it; I spied you. What will the old folks at home sayto this?"

  "What care I?"

  Martin Lightfoot shook his head, and drew out his knife.

  "What is that for?" said Hereward.

  "When the master kills the game, the knave can but skin it. We may sleepwarm under this fur in many a cold night by sea and moor."

  "Nay," said Hereward, laughing; "when the master kills the game he mustfirst carry it home. Let us take him and set him up against the bowerdoor there, to astonish the brave knights inside." And stooping down, heattempted to lift the huge carcass; but in vain. At last, with Martin'shelp, he got it fairly on his shoulders, and the two dragged theirburden to the bower and dashed it against the door, shouting with alltheir might to those within to open it.

  Windows, it must be remembered, were in those days so few and farbetween that the folks inside had remained quite unaware of what wasgoing on without.

  The door was opened cautiously enough; and out looked, to the shame ofknighthood, be it said, two or three knights who had taken shelter inthe bower with the ladies. Whatever they were going to say theladies forestalled, for, rushing out across the prostrate bear,they overwhelmed Hereward with praises, thanks, and, after thestraightforward custom of those days, with substantial kisses.

  "You must be knighted at once," cried they. "You have knighted yourselfby that single blow."

  "A pity, then," said one of the knights to the others, "that he had notgiven that accolade to himself, instead of to the bear."

  "Unless some means are found," said another, "of taking down this boy'sconceit, life will soon be not worth having here."

  "Either he must take ship," said a third, "and look for adventureselsewhere, or I must."

  Martin Lightfoot heard those words; and knowing that envy and hatred,like all other vices in those rough-hewn times, were apt to take verystartling and unmistakeable shapes, kept his eye accordingly on thosethree knights.

  "He must be knighted,--he shall be knighted, as soon as Sir Gilbertcomes home," said all the ladies in chorus.

  "I should be sorry to think," said Hereward, with the blundering mockhumility of a self-conceited boy, "that I had done anything worthy ofsuch an honor. I hope to win my spurs by greater feats than these."

  A burst of laughter from the knights and gentlemen followed.

  "How loud the young bantam crows after his first little scuffle!"

  "Hark to him! What will he do next? Eat a dragon? Fly to the moon? Marrythe Sophy of Egypt's daughter?"

  This last touched Hereward to the quick, for it was just what he thoughtof doing; and his blood, heated enough already, beat quicker, as someone cried, with the evident intent of picking a quarrel:

  "That was meant for us. If the man who killed the bear has not earnedknighthood, what must we be, who have not killed him? You understand hismeaning, gentlemen,--don't forget it!"

  Hereward looked down, and setting his foot on the bear's head, wrenchedout of it the sword which he had left till now, with pardonable pride,fast set in the skull.

  Martin Lightfoot, for his part, drew stealthily from his bosom thelittle magic axe, keeping his eye on the brain-pan of the last speaker.

  The lady of the house cried "Shame!" and ordered the knights away withhaughty words and gestures, which, because they were so well deserved,only made the quarrel more deadly.

  Then she commanded Hereward to sheathe his sword.

  He did so; and turning to the knights, said with all courtesy: "Youmistake me, sirs. You were where brave knights should be, within thebeleaguered fortress, defending the ladies. Had you remained outside,and been eaten by the bear, what must have befallen them, had he burstopen the door? As for this little lass, whom you left outside, she istoo young to requite knight's prowess by lady's love; and thereforebeneath your attention, and only fit for the care of a boy like me." Andtaking up Alftruda in his arms, he carried her in and disappeared.

  Who now but Hereward was in all men's mouths? The minstrels made balladson him; the lasses sang his praises (says the chronicler) as they dancedupon the green. Gilbert's lady would need give him the seat, and allthe honors, of a belted knight, though knight he was none. And dailyand weekly the valiant lad grew and hardened into a valiant man, and acourteous one withal, giving no offence himself, and not over-ready totake offence at other men.

  The knights were civil enough to him, the ladies more than civil; hehunted, he wrestled, he tilted; he was promised a chance of fighting forglory, as soon as a Highland chief should declare war against Gilbert,or drive off his cattle,--an event which (and small blame to theHighland chiefs) happened every six months.

  No one was so well content with himself as Hereward; and therefore hefancied that the world must be equally content with him, and he was muchdisconcerted when Martin drew him aside one day, and whispered: "If Iwere my lord, I should wear a mail shirt under my coat to-morrow outhunting."

  "What?"

  "The arrow that can go through a deer's bladebone can go through aman's."

  "Who should harm me?"

  "Any man of the dozen who eat at the same table."

  "What have I done to them? If I had my laugh at them, they had theirlaugh at me; and we are quits."

  "There is another score, my lord, which you have forgotten, and that isall on your side."

  "Eh?"

  "Y
ou killed the bear. Do you expect them to forgive you that, till theyhave repaid you with interest?"

  "Pish!"

  "You do not want for wit, my lord. Use it, and think. What right has alittle boy like you to come here, killing bears which grown men cannotkill? What can you expect but just punishment for your insolence,--say,a lance between your shoulders while you stoop to drink, as Sigfried hadfor daring to tame Brunhild? And more, what right have you to come here,and so win the hearts of the ladies, that the lady of all the ladiesshould say, 'If aught happen to my poor boy,--and he cannot livelong,--I would adopt Hereward for my own son, and show his mother whata fool some folks think her?' So, my lord, put on your mail shirtto-morrow, and take care of narrow ways, and sharp corners. Forto-morrow it will be tried, that I know, before my Lord Gilbert comesback from the Highlands; but by whom I know not, and care little, seeingthat there are half a dozen in the house who would be glad enough of thechance."

  Hereward took his advice, and rode out with three or four knights thenext morning into the fir-forest; not afraid, but angry and sad. Hewas not yet old enough to estimate the virulence of envy, to takeingratitude and treachery for granted. He was to learn the lesson then,as a wholesome chastener to the pride of success. He was to learn itagain in later years, as an additional bitterness in the humiliation ofdefeat; and find out, as does many a man, that if he once fall, or seemto fall, a hundred curs spring up to bark at him, who dared not opentheir mouths while he was on his legs.

  So they rode into the forest, and parted, each with his footman and hisdogs, in search of boar and deer; and each had his sport without meetingagain for some two hours or more.

  Hereward and Martin came at last to a narrow gully, a murderous placeenough. Huge fir-trees roofed it in, and made a night of noon. Highbanks of earth and great boulders walled it in right and left for twentyfeet above. The track, what with pack-horses' feet, and what with thewear and tear of five hundred years' rain-fall, was a rut three feetdeep and two feet broad, in which no horse could turn. Any other dayHereward would have cantered down it with merely a tightened rein. Todayhe turned to Martin and said,--

  "A very fit and proper place for this same treason, unless you have beendrinking beer and thinking beer."

  But Martin was nowhere to be seen.

  A pebble thrown from the right bank struck him, and he looked up.Martin's face was peering through the heather overhead, his finger onhis lips. Then he pointed cautiously, first up the pass, then down.

  Hereward felt that his sword was loose in the sheath, and then grippedhis lance, with a heart beating, but not with fear.

  The next moment he heard the rattle of a horse's hoofs behind him;looked back; and saw a knight charging desperately down the gully, hisbow in hand, and arrow drawn to the head.

  To turn was impossible. To stop, even to walk on, was to be ridden overand hurled to the ground helplessly. To gain the mouth of the gully, andthen turn on his pursuer, was his only chance. For the first and almostthe last time in his life, he struck spurs into his horse, and ranaway. As he went, an arrow struck him sharply in the back, piercingthe corslet, but hardly entering the flesh. As he neared the mouth, twoother knights crashed their horses through the brushwood from rightand left, and stood awaiting him, their spears ready to strike. He wascaught in a trap. A shield might have saved him; but he had none.

  He did not flinch. Dropping his reins, and driving in the spurs oncemore, he met them in full shock. With his left hand he hurled aside theleft-hand lance, with his right he hurled his own with all his forceat the right-hand foe, and saw it pass clean through the felon's chest,while his lance-point dropped, and passed harmlessly behind his knee.

  So much for lances in front. But the knight behind? Would not his swordthe next moment be through his brain?

  There was a clatter, a crash, and looking back Hereward saw horse andman rolling in the rut, and rolling with them Martin Lightfoot. He hadalready pinned the felon knight's head against the steep bank, and, withuplifted axe, was meditating a pick at his face which would have stoppedalike his love-making and his fighting.

  "Hold thy hand," shouted Hereward. "Let us see who he is; and rememberthat he is at least a knight."

  "But one that will ride no more to-day. I finished his horse's going asI rolled down the bank."

  It was true. He had broken the poor beast's leg with a blow of the axe,and they had to kill the horse out of pity ere they left.

  Martin dragged his prisoner forward.

  "You?" cried Hereward. "And I saved your life three days ago!"

  The knight answered nothing.

  "You will have to walk home. Let that be punishment enough for you," andhe turned.

  "He will have to ride in a woodman's cart, if he have the luck to findone."

  The third knight had fled, and after him the dead man's horse. Herewardand his man rode home in peace, and the third knight, after tryingvainly to walk a mile or two, fell and lay, and was fain to fulfilMartin's prophecy, and be brought home in a cart, to carry for yearsafter, like Sir Lancelot, the nickname of the Chevalier de la Charette.

  And so was Hereward avenged of his enemies. Judicial, even private,inquiry into the matter there was none. That gentlemen should meet inthe forest and commit, or try to commit, murder on each other's bodies,was far too common a mishap in the ages of faith to stir up more than anextra gossiping and cackling among the women, and an extra cursing andthreatening among the men; and as the former were all but unanimously onHereward's side, his plain and honest story was taken as it stood.

  "And now, fair lady," said Hereward to his hostess, "I must thank youfor all your hospitality, and bid you farewell forever and a day."

  She wept, and entreated him only to stay till her lord came back; butHereward was firm.

  "You, lady, and your good lord will I ever love; and at your servicemy sword shall ever be: but not here. Ill blood I will not make. Amongtraitors I will not dwell. I have killed two of them, and shall haveto kill two of their kinsmen next, and then two more, till you have noknights left; and pity that would be. No; the world is wide, and thereare plenty of good fellows in it who will welcome me without forcing meto wear mail under my coat out hunting."

  And he armed himself _cap-a-pie_, and rode away. Great was the weepingin the bower, and great the chuckling in the hall: but never saw theyHereward again upon the Scottish shore.