CHAPTER XXV.
"AND THERETO THEY PLIGHTED TROTH BOTH OF THEM."
Do you wonder how so many people (and the boys in particular) contrivedto 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 anddiscovered on that occasion, but at present we must confine ourselvesto the chief incidents.
First of these was the spreading of a bountiful lunch on a soft flatspot of turf, as green and fragrant as an English lawn, although yearlywashed by the wild salt billows of the rough Atlantic, and nevertouched by spade or ploughshare. Then there was the lighting of a firein the skeoe, and the boiling of potatoes, and the infusing of tea. Andwhen all these preparations where almost complete, Yaspard stood upon aknoll and blew lustily on his "Looder-horn" a signal agreed upon, andwhich brought all the scattered party together near the flag-staff.
When they were all assembled, some casting very longing looks towardsthe banquet so invitingly spread on snowy linen with a border ofemerald grass, others looking with some curiosity at the young host andmaster 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 presentto give to the little queen of our revels, and I can't do so withoutthe 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'tsay much, you may be sure."
He drew a paper from his pocket, and the smile on his bright handsomeface deepened into a wonderful resemblance to the chastened graciouslight 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, andtears sprang to many eyes as that striking likeness was noted.
"His father's son, dear lad!" the Yarl whispered to Mrs. Holtum, whocould only look up with quivering lips in reply.
"My friends," Fred resumed, in graver tones, "you know why we are allhere to-day. We meet to rejoice over little Signy's preservation, andwe meet _here_ to thank God who made this little holme a havn[1] forher. It was well named Havnholme. It has given shelter to many astorm-tossed bark. The tiny bay yonder has ever been the one safeshelter amid the breakers and billows which surround both Lunda andBoden. There is no other haven of refuge between your island, Mr.Adiesen, and mine, and we unite to-day in thanking God that littleSigny was saved on Havnholme. In time past, my friends, thecross-currents were too much for some of the human barks that were outfor life's voyage, and they swamped among the skerries instead offinding the calm shelter of this islet. We--that is, Mr. Adiesen andmyself--are so thankful to-day, that we have agreed that the bestexpression of our gratitude will be a conferring of all our rights inHavnholme upon the little lady who is queen of our party. LittleSigny, you are to be henceforth sole owner of Havnholme! This paper isthe legal document transferring to you this island as the free gift ofyour uncle and myself. But there is another and more interestingmethod of assuming the rights of property; and, my friends, we purposethat Signy Adiesen, Esquiress, of Havnholme, shall 'turn turf' afterthe old Shetland manner. I have loosened one or two sods here, so thatshe 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 sailunder this royal old flag, this fair tricoloured cross, and to make theblack badge of Thor into a pall! Yaspard has agreed to my proposal.
"His little sister possessed a doll which seems to have been anill-omened creature all its days. Its legs and arms were always comingoff, its eyes have been renewed many times, but never kept theirposition without a squint. It was often lost; it frequently fell onpeople's toes, bruising them and wounding the feelings of inoffendingmortals. It was an evilly-disposed doll evidently, and received thename of the 'Feud.' This doll died the day Signy went to ransom theViking. It died by the deed of Pirate, who, finding it in a placewhere it ought not to have been, bore it to his hold, as any otherpirate would, and gnawed the life out of it!
"Well, my friends, our Viking has shrouded the doll Feud in his blackflag, and the turf Signy turns will cover its grave! And now my littlespeech is ended."
Amid the wildest of cheers and the happiest of smiles Yaspard depositedthe doll Feud, rolled up in his Viking flag, in the hole which Fred haddug; and when it was almost levelled up, Signy took the spade anddeftly "turned turf" as directed. A few pats with the flat side of thespade soon put the turf in proper position; and when the grave of MissFeud was finished, Yaspard flung his cap in the air and shouted, "Deathto all feuds! So perish all the queen's enemies!"
"The feud is dead! Long live Queen Signy!" cried Fred, lifting thelittle girl in his arms; and then Bill Mitchell terminated theproceedings by calling out, "I vote we go to dinner now, or Thor willhave 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 feetwhen the doll was produced, thinking that his misdemeanour was about tobe declared and punished, and had no attention to bestow on amarauder), had hopped on to the table-cloth, and was rapidlyinvestigating the "spread" with an eye to future confiscation.Fortunately, Bill was more interested in the food than in the feud, andgave notice of Thor's depredation in time to prevent any seriouscalamity to the dinner.
Everybody hastened to the level ground, and were soon seated and busyover the good things which Mrs. Garson had provided with her usualconsideration of individual tastes and necessities. When the moreserious part of the meal was concluded, and tea and fruit wascirculating, there was a great cry for Garth's ballad of the Boden boywho long years before had come to a tragic end in Lunda. So the youngscald 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]