WHEN Christianity came to Iceland, Thorgils in Flói was one of the first to adopt the new faith. One night he dreamed that Thor came to him, looking very ill-pleased, and accused him of breaking faith with him. "You have treated me badly," said he, "chosen for me the worst that you had, and cast the silver that was mine into a dirty pool, and I shall pay you back for that." "God will help me," said Thorgils, "and happy am I that our partnership is broken off" When he woke, he found that his best boar was dead, so he had it buried beside some tofts, and would allow no part of it to be used.

Again did Thor appear in a dream to Thorgils, and said that he would think no more of taking off his nose than killing his boar. Thorgils answered that God would rule in that. Thor threatened to destroy his property; Thorgils said he did not care. The next night an old ox belonging to him died, and on the following night Thorgils himself watched his cattle. When he came home in the morning he was all black and blue, and folks are convinced that he and Thor must have met on that occasion. After that his losses ceased.

Thorgils was invited to Greenland by Eirik the Red, whose acquaintance he had made at the court of Earl Hákon in Norway. Thorgils had made all preparations to set out, and was waiting for a fair wind, when he dreamed that a big red-bearded man, very Grím of look, came to him and said, "You have planned a voyage that will be very troublesome for yourself, and ill success will be yours unless you return to your faith in me; in that case I shall still take care of you." Thorgils answered that he would never accept his protection, and bade him depart at once, saying, "My voyage will succeed as God Almighty wills it."

Then he thought that Thor led him out on some cliffs, where the sea broke over the rocks. "Among such billows shall you be,' said Thor, "and never get out of them, unless you turn to me." "Nay," said Thorgils; "depart from me, hateful fiend! He who redeemed all men with His blood will help me." Then he awoke, and told his dream to his wife. "I would stay behind," said she, "if I had dreamed the like of that, and I shall not tell this dream to the others."

Now came a fair wind, and they sailed out of the firth, but after they had lost sight of land the wind fell completely, and they tossed about for a long time, till both food and drink ran short. Thorgils dreamed that the same man came to him, and said, "Have things not gone as I told you they would?" and much more he said, but Thorgils drove him away with hard words. It drew on to Autumn now, and some of the men said that they ought to call on Thor, but Thorgils forbade this, and said they would get themselves into trouble, if any man sacrificed on board his ship. On this account no one ventured to call upon Thor. Again Thorgils dreamed that the same man came to him and said; "Again have you shown how faithless you were to me, when men wished to call upon me; yet I have looked after your men, who are now in extremities unless I help them, and you will now reach harbour in seven nights, if you earnestly return to me." "Though I never reach land," said Thorgils, "I will show no favour to you." Thor answered, "Though you never do me any good, yet give me my own property." Thorgils thought ever what this might be, and remembered that it was an ox, which he had given to Thor when it was a calf. Then he awoke, and purposed to throw it overboard. On learning this, Thorgerd offered to buy it, as she was short of provisions, but Thorgils refused to sell it and had it thrown overboard, saying that it was no wonder though things went ill, when Thor's property was on board.

They reached Greenland not long after this, but the expedition was a failure.

ONE time as King Olaf Tryggvason was sailing along the coast in his ship, the Serpent, he was hailed from the rocky shore by a man of middle stature and red-bearded. King Olaf put in close to land, and took him on board, where he attracted general attention. The crew made jest of him and he of them, and hurled abuse at each other till King Olaf noticed it, and had the man brought before him. To the King's many questions the stranger had always a ready answer, till finally the King asked, "What kind of folk used to live on shore here?" "Giants and big folk lived here for many a day," said the man, "until sickness came among their number, and only two big women were left alive, who did great mischief to men when they began to settle here. Then the men took counsel, and called on this red beard of mine, and that stood them in good stead, for I killed the women with my hammer;" and as he said this he flew forward over the bows and into the sea. Then said King Olaf, "Bold was the Devil when he came so near us, but he went off quickly too."

RÖGNVALD, son of Lodinn in Ærvík, burned the hall of his step-father Thorolf, who had treated him ill, and all that were in it perished. Rögnvald had taken his own son Gunnar out of the place before he set fire to it, but the boy, on seeing the smoke, said, "far rather would I be there with my foster-father than here with you, for you will not deal well with me when you have dealt so ill with him." To prevent the child telling who had committed the deed, Rögnvald tied him in a boat and set him adrift. The boat drove with wind and tide northward along the shore, and finally stranded on an island, over which ruled a man greatly given to sacrificing to the gods; he had there a great temple dedicated to Thor. This man found the child, who would not answer a single word to all his questions, and as nothing could be discovered about him, his finder took him as his own son, calling him Raud (Red) from the colour of his dress. He grew up to be a big and handsome man, and so well beloved by his new foster-father that at his death he left him all his possessions. Raud kept up the old sacrifices, and it is said that by means of these he put so much might into the image of Thor that was in the temple that the fiend spoke to him out of the idol, and moved it so that it seemed to walk about outside with him during the day, and Raud often led Thor about the island.

At length King Olaf Tryggvason came that way in his Christianizing of Norway. That morning Raud went to the temple, as was his custom, but Thor was very gloomy and gave him no answer when he spoke to him. Raud thought this very strange, and tried in many ways to get speech of him, and asked what was the reason of his silence. At last Thor answered with a deep sigh, and said that he was not acting so without cause. "I am greatly distressed at the coming of those men who are making their way to the island." Raud asked who they were, and Thor said it was Olaf Tryggvason and his men. "Blow through the bristles of your beard against them," said Raud, "and let us oppose them doughtily." Thor said it would be of little use, but they went out, and he blew hard through his beard. With that so hard a storm came against the King, that he could not bear up against it, and returned to the harbour he had set out from. This took place several times, but it only made the King more determined to reach the island, and in the end, with God's might, he was more powerful than the fiend that stood against him. Again Raud came to the temple and found Thor frowning and ill-pleased; the King, he said, had landed on the island. "Then we shall stand against them with all our might," said Raud, "and not give in all at once." Thor said that would do no good.

The King then summoned Raud to come to his presence, but he refused; "I will not go to meet him, for I like not his coming, and still less does my mighty god Thor like it" Olaf however came to him, and calling together all that were on the island preached the Christian faith to them. Raud still refused to give up the god who had helped him in all his troubles. The King threatened him unless he obeyed him, whereupon Raud answered that they would make trial of their gods. "I shall make a great fire, and you and Thor shall stand one on each side of it, and take each other by the hands. The one who pulls the other through the fire shall be victor, and I expect that Thor will be stronger than you." "Who ever heard the like?" said the King; "no man ever dared before to set up devils to contend with me where I preached the holy faith. Yet I shall try this, on condition that no one shall help either Thor or myself." A great fire was then made, and Thor went up to it, but very unwillingly. Then they took each other's hands and struggled hard, till Thor lost his footing and fell forward into the fire, where in a little while he was consumed to ashes. At this Raud gave up all his faith in him, and some time afterwards became a Christian.

AT the upper end of the three-mile-long Totak Water, which goes right up under the high Houkli-Fell in Vinje Parish, in Upper Thelemark, is a very remarkable but terrible stone-field which, as seen from the lake, resembles a village, with house-gables and towers. Its name is Ureböstone-field, after the lonely farm of Urebö, which lies opposite. Of its origin, the peasants tell the following tale: "On the level ground, now covered by the stones, there lay by the side of Songa-elv two farms, some say even a church, from which the largest stone, which sticks up in the middle of the stone-field like a church roof, is called to this day 'The Kirk Stone.' On these two farms two weddings were once going on, where, in old Norse fashion, the ale-horn passed quickly round the company. Just then it occurred to the god Thor to drive down and visit his old friends, the peasants of Thelemark. He went first to one of the farms, was invited in, and entertained. The bridegroom took the ale-barrel itself, drank to Thor and handed it to him. The god was pleased both with the drink and with the liberal way of giving it, and so went off very well pleased to the other farm to taste the wedding-ale there too. Here he was entertained with the same, but they showed so much want of consideration as to give him the drink in a common bowl. Thor, perhaps spoiled at the first farm, and perhaps also hot in the head with the deep draughts he had taken from the barrel, was greatly incensed, threw the bowl on the floor, and went his way swinging his hammer. He took the bridal-pair who had given him the barrel to drink from, and their guests, along with himself up to a mound where there still lie some big stones called 'The Bride's Stones,' to let them be witnesses of, and free them from, the destruction which he had determined to bring on those who had insulted him by their meanness. Then he went up on Nuten, and struck the mountain so hard with his 'heavy hammer,' that it rattled down and buried under it the other pair, farm and all. But in his anger Thor did not reckon his strength and balance properly, so that with the blow the `heavy hammer' slipped out of his hands, and flew down with the pieces of rock, among which it got lost. Thor had then to go down and look for it, and in his anger and irritation began to throw the rocks hither and thither, and threw and pulled them about until he found his hammer. With this there was formed a regular road up through the stone field, which to this day is called 'Thor's-way.' Being made in such a hurry, one may well believe that it is not particularly good, and it is a proof of what habit can do, that the little hill-ponies go with heavy loads along this path, which consists of huge steps of rock, and that in spring or autumn the cattle pass along it on their way to and from the hill pastures."

IF a man has anything stolen from him he may find out the thief, if only he is possessed of "Thor's hammer." The material of this is bell-metal, thrice stolen, and hardened in man's blood on Whitsunday, between the reading of the Epistle and the Gospel. A spike must also be made of the same material as the hammer; and the man must then dab the point of this on the thick end of the hammer, saying at the same time, 'I drive into the eye of Vig-father (Odin), I drive into the eye of Val-father, I drive into the eye of Asa-Thor." The thief then gets a pain in his eyes. If he does not restore the stolen goods, the process is repeated and he loses one of his eyes, and if it has to be employed a third time, he loses the other eye as well.

Another method is for a man to steal bell-metal from a church between the Epistle and the Gospel, and make a hammer out of this. When he wishes to know who has stolen anything, he must take a piece of paper and draw on it either a man's eye at least, or better still, the whole head with both eyes, drawn with his own blood. He must then take a steel prick and put the end of it into one of the eyes, and then strike the other end with Thor's hammer, saying at the same time, "I cause him pain in the eye (or 'knock the eye out of him'), that stole from me." The thief then loses one of his eyes, or both, if he does not disclose himself before it comes to that.

THORWIGGAR (Thor's wedges) is the name given to the smooth wedge-shaped stones which are sometimes found in the earth, and are believed to have been thrown by Thor at some troll or other. In many places, where the meadows come close up to high hills, stories-were often told about the terror of the trolls, when there was thunder, and how they then in various shapes, but especially that of large balls or clews, came rolling down from the hills see-kin protection among the mowers, who, well knowing the danger, always kept them back with their scythes, at which (they say) it often happened that the lightning struck and shivered the scythes, and upon this the trolls with pitiful wailings returned to the hill.

Lifting-stones (Lyfte-stenar) are found in many places, and are a memorial of Thor. Although not always particularly large, they contain such a weight, that scarcely any man now-a-days is strong enough to lift them. Thor is said to have used these as balls to play with. Of the lifting-stone at Linneryd in Kongahärad, Smaaland, there is a story that Thor, as he once wandered past here with his servant, met a giant, whom he asked where he was going. "To Valhall," said the giant, "to fight with Thor because he has burned up my cattle-house with his lightning." "It is no use measuring your strength with him," said Thor. "I hardly believe you are man enough to lift this little stone up on this big one here." The giant grew angry and seized the stone with all his might, but was unable to lift it off the ground, Thor had so transformed it. Then Thor's man tried, and lifted the stone as lightly as his glove. The giant struck at Thor all he could, but the god with his hammer smote him dead at once, and he is said to have been buried in the large cairn near the spot.

IT is said that the same evening that King Olaf Tryggvason came to spend Easter at Ogvaldsness, there came also a very old man, clever of speech, one-eyed and weak-sighted, and wearing his hood down over his face. He got into talk with the King, who found great pleasure in his conversation, for he could tell tidings from all lands, old as well as new. The King asked him many questions, and he was able to answer them all. They sat together far into the evening, and at last the King asked who the Ogvald was that the farm and ness were named after. "Ogvald," said the stranger, "was a king and a great warrior; he mainly worshipped a cow, which he took with him wherever he went by land or sea, thinking it wholesome always to drink its milk; from that comes the proverb that many men use, 'cart and cow shall go together.' He fought with a king named Dixin, and fell in the battle. He was then laid in a mound on the ness not far from the farm, and in another mound near it was laid the cow, and the stones set up that still stand there."

During the night the stranger disappeared, and King Olaf was persuaded that it was the fiend who had come in the likeness of Odin, intending by his talk to keep them awake so long that they might sleep past the time for divine service.

THE winter after King Olaf returned from Háloga-land he had a ship built under Lad-hamren, far larger than any other ship that had ever been built in Norway. Many men were employed at it, some to fell trees for it, some to dress them, some to make nails, some to bring timber and other things required. Everything intended for it was carefully selected, but they could not get a tree suitable for the keel, considering the length of the ship, and for this they searched far and wide. One morning the two builders, Thorgeir and Thorberg, were early on foot before all the others, and had gone down to the place where the ship was to be built, still thinking over where they might get a tree for the keel. There they saw coming toward them a man of great stature, swarthy complexion, frowning look, one-eyed and unprepossessing, who addressed them and asked if the ship-building was going on much. They said "No." He asked the reason of this. They answered that they could not get a tree large enough and good enough to form the keel. "I have heard so," said the stranger; "and yet the King has had search made far and wide. Now you may come and look at a little tree-stump that I have brought hither, and see whether it will do for the keel or not." They asked his name, and he said it was Forni, a peasant out of the Thrænda-lög, and an old acquaintance and friend of the King's. They went down to the sea with him, and saw there a little boat in the water, along with a huge tree that the man had apparently towed behind him. They rolled the tree up on the beach, a work in which they found the stranger a very handy man; then they looked at it closely, and were well pleased with it. They asked what he would take for it, but he said he would name no price to the King; they might have it if they wished, and he would get a suitable return for it. With that he got into his boat and rowed out into the fjord, while they went home again to the town. When the King came down later on, they told him they had got a keel-tree, and how it had come to them. The King said he had no recollection of this Forni, and bade them show him the tree, which they did. He looked at it, and stepped on to it at one spot, saying, "Hew it asunder here." This was done, and out of it there darted a venomous serpent. "Now I think I know who this Forni was," said the King; "it was the evil Odin, and we may see that he meant this serpent to bore out through the ship when we were out at sea, and so sink us all to the bottom." Then he had the bishop brought, and made him consecrate the tree, after which they laid it down for the keel and built the ship. Said the King, "The ship shall take its name from this serpent, and shall be called The Serpent, and on account of its size and length I think it may well be named 'The Long Serpent.'"

IT happened after Yule in the Year of Peace (1208), that one evening a man came riding up to the house of a smith who lived at Nesjar, and asked him to lodge him there that night and shoe his horse for him. The smith was willing, and long before daybreak they rose and set to work. "Where were you last night?" asked the smith. "In Medaldal," said the stranger; now that is in the north of Thelemark. "And where were you the night before?" "In Jardal," said the stranger, which is in the extreme north of Rygjar-fylki. "You must be a tremendous liar," said the smith, "for that cannot possibly be." Then he set to work on the shoes, but could not make them to please himself. "Never did it go this way with my work before," said he. "Just you work as the thing goes of itself," said the stranger, and in the end he turned out bigger horse-shoes than he had ever seen, but when they applied them, they were found to fit the horse, which they then shod. "You are an unlearned and witless man," said the stranger; "why do you ask no questions?" "Who are you?" said the smith; "or where have you come from, or where are you going?" He answered, "I have come from the north of the country, and have long been dwelling here in Norway, and now I mean to go east into Sweden. I have long been on shipboard, and must now accustom myself to horseback for a time." "Where are you going this evening?" said the smith. "East to Sparmörk," said he. "That cannot be true," said the smith, "for that can hardly be ridden in seven days." As the stranger mounted his horse, the smith again asked, "Who are you?" He answered, "Have you ever heard of Odin?" "I have heard his name," said the man. "Then you may see him here now," said the stranger, "and if you do not believe what I have told you, look how I leap my horse over the fence." With that he drove the spurs into his horse, and ran it at the fence of the courtyard, which it sprang right over and never touched, although it was seven ells high. The smith never saw him again, but four nights later the battle at Kungslena between the Kings Sörkvir and Eirik took place. The smith himself told this story to Earl Philip that same winter in Tunsberg, and one who then heard it told it to us. The smith's name was Thörd Vettir, and his homestead is called "í Píslum."

IN old days there lived in Hjörring a king, who ruled over Vendsyssel, and was widely known for his wild delight in the chase and his contempt for Christianity. One Sunday, while the people were at church, and King Jon was hunting in its neighbourhood, his dogs started and followed a hare, which, to conceal itself, ran into the church, and up before the altar. Both the dogs followed at its heels, and of course greatly disturbed divine service, as the priest was just in the middle of his sermon, but the confusion was made still worse, when King Jón came riding into the church to get hold of his prey, which the hounds had already secured. The priest grew angry at this, and said that he thought it highly unbecoming thus to disturb the service, but the King did not trouble himself for that. "If I may only keep my hunting both here and after my death," said he, "other folk may well keep both divine service and heaven for me." Having by this time got hold of the hare, he turned his horse in front of the altar and trotted out of the church. He died some time after this, but can find rest nowhere, and on clear summer evenings he rides in the air followed by his hounds. The sound of this can often be heard, and it is bad to meet him when one is alone.

When three doors with locks stand open in a line with each other, Jón the hunter and his dogs have power to enter, if they are in the neighbourhood. In this way he entered a large farm on Hjorte-næs, and asked what they had to spare for Jón the hunter that day. The farmer went out and brought a big ferocious bull, every bit of which they ate up on the floor of the room, for they were thoroughly hungry. When this was done, the hunter told the farmer that in future he should have great luck with his cattle, and so it turned out: his cows often had two calves thereafter.

A woman in Svendstrup was up one morning before daybreak to brew the Christmas ale, and had let the two doors of the brew-house stand open. These were right opposite each other, and by and bye three hounds came running in and began to lap the ale out of a vessel. She guessed they were Un's hounds, and was afraid, but thought it best to make friends with them, so she went up and patted them, saying, "Poor things." They then ran away again, but it was not for nothing that she had been so friendly with them, for when she went outside after daybreak she found a gold horse-shoe lying outside one of the doors.

WOJENS the Hunter is said to have been a king at one time. I am not sure whether it was a berg-woman or an elf-woman that he once came across, and received from her a letter that he several times tried to bury, but could discover no means to get rid of it. Then he wished that from that time forth he might pursue the under-ground folk so long as the world should last, and so he has done ever since.

A man beside Lyng-aa had gone out early one morning to shift his horses; when he had done this and was about to return home, to his alarm he heard a loud rushing sound in the air. This drew nearer and nearer, and all at once a man on horseback stopped in front of him. "Hold my hounds," he shouted, and the man obeyed. There were three of them, fastened together with a silken leash, and the peasant examined them closely until the hunter returned after a few minutes' absence, having two elf-women, tied together by their long hair, hanging over his horse's back. "Give me my hounds," said he, "and hold out your hand here, till I give you some drink-money." The man did so, and the hunter stuck the points of his three fingers into the peasant's hand, where they left large burned spots behind them. Then he rode off with the same rushing noise, accompanied by the screams of the elf-women and the barking of the dogs.

A man was once walking from Ersted to Aarestrup, when he saw two elf-women come running towards him as fast as they could. They sat down there on the south side of the village, saying to each other, "He won't catch us yet, for he's not clean." The man continued on his way, until he was met by one on horseback, who was no other than Jóns the hunter. "Did no one meet you?" he asked of the man. "Yes," said he, "there came two little things running as hard as they could." "What did they say to each other?" asked the horseman. "They said, ‘he won't catch us yet, for he's not clean.'" He took water in his hand and washed himself, and then said to the man, "If you will lie down now and put your fingers in your ears, I shall pay you well for it when I come back again in a little while." The man did so, but began to think the time long, and wanted to take his fingers out of his ears. First he took one finger out, and heard some one fire a shot, though at a considerable distance; he thought it might be as far as Hobro. At this he lay down again for a little, but once more he grew tired of lying like this, and so raised himself from the ground and took the other finger from his ear. Again he heard a shot, but this time as far away as the neighbourhood of Horsens. At this he made haste to put his fingers into his ears again, and lay down in his old place. Soon after that the horseman rode up with the two women, tied together by the hair and hung over the horse's back, one on each side, and said to the man, "You shall have good payment, but it should have been better You have taken your fingers out of your ears, and that did me so much damage that I had to ride from Hobro to Horsens to catch the last of them. My horse has lost a shoe on the road there, which you can go and pick up, and that will be payment enough for you." When the man reached the spot and found it, it proved to be of gold.

IN Gothland, and especially in Smaaland, there still live in the mouths of the people many tales and traditions of the Old Odin. At Sätuna in West Gothland (which is supposed to have been a town, as traces of paved streets and a market-place are found there), Odin's horses are said to have pastured on the beautiful meadows now called Ons-ängar (Odin's meadows). In Bleking a sheaf used to be left on the field for Odin's horses. Of the noise which is sometimes heard in the air by night, and resembles that of horsemen riding past, the people say, "Odin rides there." At the farm of Kraaktorp in Asa parish in Smaaland are the remains of a wall, where Odin's stable and manger are said to have stood. In this parish, more than a hundred years ago, there was excavated a grave mound, where Odin was said to be buried, and which, on that account, after the introduction of Christianity, was called Hell's-mound. There was then found a vault, on opening which a strange fire, like a flash of lightning, burst out, and a stone coffin and lamp were dug up there. Of a priest named Per Dagson, who lived at Trojenborg or Höns-hytte Skans, the story goes that he ploughed up a part of the rampart, by which a number of human bones were brought to light. When the rye sown there shot up, Odin came riding from the hills every night, so huge that he towered above all the farm-buildings, spear in hand, and kept watch outside the front entrance, preventing any one from going out or in the whole night. This happened every night until the rye was cut. The priest took indeed two crops off the field, but allowed it to fall back again, on account of the great trouble that Odin caused him. There is also a general tradition of a gold ship, which is said to be sunk in Rune-mad beside Nyckel-berg. On this ship Odin is said to have taken the slain from Braa-valla to Valhall. Kettils-aas in Als-heda is said to take its name from a man named Kettil Runske (Rune-master), who stole Odin's runic staves, and by means of these bound Odin's hounds and bull, and finally even the mermaid herself, who tried to come to Odin's aid.

WHEN Christianity came to the North, Odin fled over to the island of Möen in Denmark, and hid himself in the Klint, where his place of abode is still pointed out. At that time the priests called him the Giant from Upsala, but he is now popularly known as Jön Upsal; from this name also is no doubt derived the exclamation one hears so often on Möen, "But Giant though!" whereas in other places they say, "But Jesus though!" A man who now lives in Copenhagen is said to have seen Jön throwing out his sweepings one time as he was sailing past the Klint, at any rate there was a thick cloud of dust coming out of his door. Various persons still alive are said to have landed in Jón Upsal's garden when they had lost their way in the forest on the Klint; it is large and beautiful beyond all description, and stands in full flower in the midst of winter, but if any one afterwards tries to search for the garden again, of course it is never found.

WHEN King Olaf Tryggvason heard that the men of Thrandheim still worshipped an image of Frey, he went thither and seized it. Then at a meeting of the people he hacked it to pieces before their eyes, and gave them the following account of its origin: — "This Frey that you have worshipped was no living man, but only a wooden one, made with men's hands, and now lies here hewn into small pieces and food for fire. You must also know that the man named Frey was a great King in Sweden, and when he was dead a very great mound was made for him and his body laid in it. After he was set there, it was spoken about that some men should go into the mound beside him to keep him company, for his death was greatly mourned by all, but though all had loved him while he lived, no one would stay with him now that he was dead. The Swedes then made a door in the mound, and three windows; at one of these they poured in gold, at another silver, and copper at the third, and so still gave to Frey the tribute that they had formerly paid him for giving them peace and plenty. Yet they kept his death secret, and the people believed that he still lived, and this went on for three years, but even when they knew that he was dead they would not burn him as the custom was, for they thought that he still caused all kinds of good. They called him the god of the world, and worshipped him a long time. But, as I said before, no living man would stay in the mound beside Frey, so the Swedes made two wooden men, and set them in the mound beside him, thinking that it would be some amusement for him to play himself with them. After a long time it entered the minds of some Swedes to break into the mound, for by this time the doors and windows were closed up, and they knew that there was much treasure there. When they had torn it open, several were let down by ropes to the floor, and saw there much gold and many precious things, but when they thought of taking the treasure away, they became so much afraid that they did not dare to take anything but the two wooden men, who had been given to Frey to entertain him. With these they were drawn up to their comrades, and the mound was closed again, but the Swedes took the wooden men, and worshipped one themselves, the other they sent here to Thrandheim, and it has been worshipped here, and both of them have been called by the name of Frey."

A NORSEMAN named Gunnar Helming, being suspected of having killed one of King Olaf Tryggvason's men, thought it best to make his escape to Sweden. At that time Frey was the god most worshipped by the Swedes, and such might was given by the fiend to the image of Frey that it talked to the worshippers. These believed that Frey was to some extent alive, and in this belief they had given him a beautiful young woman to wife, who also had main charge of the sanctuary and all that belonged to the temple. Gunnar Helming finally arrived there, and asked Frey's wife to help him and let him stay there, giving out that he was a freedman from abroad. "You cannot be a lucky man everywhere," said she, "for Frey looks on you with no friendly eyes. Stay here and rest yourself for three nights, and let us see then how Frey likes you." "Far better would I like," said Gunnar, "to have your help and favour than Frey's." Gunnar was a most entertaining man, and after he had been there three nights he asked Frey's wife whether he was to stay there or not. "I hardly know," said she, "you are a poor man, and yet it may be that you are of good kin, and in that case I should like the more to give you some assistance, but Frey does not care for you, and I am afraid that he will be angry. Stay here half a month and see what happens." "Things are as I would wish them to be," said Gunnar, "Frey hates me and you help me, and I have no desire to be with him."

The longer Gunnar stayed there, the better he was liked by all. Another time he spoke to Frey's wife, and asked what he was to do. She answered, "Folks here like you well, and I think it advisable for you to stay here this winter, and go with myself and Frey, when he is entertained in order that he may give them good seasons: but he is not pleased with you." The time came when they went from home, and Frey with his wife sat in a cart while their attendants went before them. As they went along a mountain road a severe storm came upon them, and the way became very heavy. In the end all the others left them, so that only Gunnar remained with the two in the cart. He began to get exhausted as he walked and led the horse, and after a time gave up the attempt, and took his seat in the cart. In a little the woman said to him, "Do your best yet, or Frey will rise against you." He walked again for a little, but soon became tired, and said, "I shall risk meeting Frey if he tries to attack me." At this Frey rose out of the cart, and began to wrestle with him. Gunnar soon saw that he had not strength enough against him, and vowed that if he overcame this fiend, and it were granted him to return to Norway, he would turn again to the true faith, and make peace with King Olaf if he would receive him. Immediately on his thinking this, Frey began to stumble, and then fell, whereupon the fiend who had lain hid in the image leapt out of it, and left the empty shell behind. Gunnar broke this in pieces, and gave the woman her choice, either that he should leave her there and look after himself, or that when they came to houses she should say that he was Frey. She chose the latter course, and Gunnar put on the idol's dress. The weather then began to clear, and they arrived at last at the feast to which they were invited, and there they found many of those who should have accompanied them. All thought it a great thing that Frey should thus have shown his power in coming there with his wife in such a storm, when all the others had run away from them, and no less that he now went about and ate and drank like other men. During the winter they went round and were entertained, but Frey spoke little to any but his wife, and would not allow any living thing to be killed to him as before, and would accept no offering but gold or silver, good clothes or other valuables. As time went on, it was noticed that Frey's wife was evidently with child, and all thought more than ever of their god Frey. The weather too was mild, and everything so flourishing that no one could remember the like. The news travelled far of how mighty the god of the Swedes was, and at last came to the ears of King Olaf, who suspected what lay under it. One day in Spring he called Sigurd the brother of Gunnar, and told him his suspicions. "I shall send you east there after him, for it is a piteous thing for a Christian man's soul to be so miserably lost" Sigurd went to Sweden, and found that Frey was indeed his brother Gunnar, who stole away with him, taking also his wife and all the money he could. The Swedes, on finding out what had happened, pursued them, but soon lost their track and returned home. King Olaf made peace with Gunnar, and had his wife baptised, and both of them kept the true faith ever after.

WHEN Sigmund Brestison had been for some time in Norway with Earl Hákon, he asked the Earl to aid him to return to the Færöes and avenge his father. The Earl gave him two ships and men to accompany him, and in the spring he was ready to set out. When he was at last ready to go, Earl Hákon went out with him, saying, "One should lead forth that man whom he wishes to see back again." When they had gone outside, Hákon asked him in whom he put his trust. "I trust to my own might and strength," said Sigmund. "That must not be so," said the Earl, "you must look for help to that quarter in which I put all my trust, and that is in Thorgerd Hördabrúd. We shall go and visit her just now, and seek success for you from there." Sigmund bade him do as he thought fit, and they went to the wood by a cart-road, and then along a path in the wood itself. They finally came to a clearing, in which stood a house with a wooden fence round it. It was a beautiful building, the carved work on it being ornamented with gold and silver. Hákon and Sigmund with a few others went into this house, where there were many gods; it had also many glass windows so that there was no shadow in it. At the inner end was a woman magnificently dressed. The Earl threw himself down before her feet, and lay there a long time. Then he rose up and told Sigmund that they should make her some offering, laying the money on the seat in front of her, "and we shall have this token," said he, "whether she will accept it or not, that I have wished her to let go the ring that she has on her hand. From that ring you will obtain good luck." The Earl then laid hold of the ring, and it seemed to Sigmund as if she closed her hand, so that he could not get it off. The Earl lay down again before her, and Sigmund noticed that he was in tears. Again he stood up, and laid hold of the ring, and this time it was loose. He gave Sigmund the ring, charging him not to give it away, which he promised not to do. With this they parted and Sigmund went to his ship.

In the midst of the battle with the Vikings of Jomsborg at Hjörunga-väg (Lidvaag in Söndmöre), Earl Hákon left his men and went up on the island of Primsigd. The island was thickly wooded, and Hákon went to a clearing in the forest, where he lay down, looking to the north, and prayed in the way he thought best, calling upon her in whom he put all his trust, Thorgerd Hördabrúd. When she remained deaf to his words, he guessed that she must be angry with him, and prayed her to accept of him various things in sacrifice, but all of these she refused. Then he offered her a human sacrifice, and, thinking that he would be still worse off, if he could get no certainty of his prospects, he began to increase his offers to her, until finally he gave her her choice of any man she pleased for sacrifice, except himself and his son Eirik, and Svein. At long length Thorgerd accepted the sacrifice from him, and chose a son of the earl's, named Erling, who was then seven years old and very promising. When the Earl thought his prayers and vow were heard, he grew more hopeful, and taking the boy he gave him into the hands of his thrall Skofti, who put him to death in the way that Hákon directed him.

After this the Earl went to his ships, and urged on his host anew. "I know for certain that victory will be granted us," said he, "and go ye forward better, for I have called upon Thorgerd Hördabrúd and her sister, and they will not fail us now, any more than in time past."

Now there had been a pause in the battle while Hákon had gone to sacrifice, and both sides had prepared for the struggle as they thought best. The Earl went on board, and they laid the ships at each other a second time; Hákon was now over against Sigvaldi, and went forward most doughtily, trusting to Thorgerd and Irpa. Then it is said the weather began to thicken, and clouds rose rapidly from the north; this was about three o'clock in the afternoon, and the clouds drove so fast that soon the whole sky was overcast, and on that followed a snowstorm, accompanied, as it seemed to them, by lightning and thunder. All the Joms-vikings had to fight facing the snow-shower, which was so severe, as well as the storm that went with it, that men could scarcely do more than stand. Many had thrown off part of their clothing during the day while they were hot, and now the air began to grow cold, yet they fought irreproachably. It is said that Havard the Hewer, Bui's companion, was the first man who now saw Thorgerd Hördabrúd in Hákon's host, and many others after him; and they thought they saw too, when the snow grew a little less heavy, that an arrow flew from every one of the witch's fingers, and every one of them was a man's death. Sigvaldi and his fellows saw this now, and he said, as Bui and his men fought fiercely when the storm came on, "It seems to me that we have now to fight not merely with men, but rather with the worst of trolls, and it may well seem worse and more dangerous to go against these, and yet our only course is to hold out against them as best we may."

As for Earl Hákon, when he saw that the snow grew less heavy, he called again upon Thorgerd and her sister Irpa, and with that the storm began anew, far greater and more vehement than before, if that were possible. In the early part of this second shower, Havard saw that there were now two women on Hákon's ship, both of whom were acting in the same way as he had seen before. Then said Sigvaldi, "Now I shall flee, and let all my men do the same, for now we have to fight with trolls and not with men, and it is so much worse now that there are two trolls, where there was only one before. We shall no longer oppose them, and we have this comfort, that we flee not for men, although we make our retreat, and we never vowed to fight with trolls here in Norway." With this Sigvaldi turned away his ship, and called to Vagn and Bui to flee as fast as they could.

TO the East of the River Vana in Asia, lay the land called Asia-land or Asia-heim. The people who inhabited it were called Æsir, and their chief city Asgard, a great place of sacrifice. Odin was King over it, and appointed Njord and Frey as priests. Njord's daughter was called Freyja; she followed Odin and was his mistress. There were four men in Asia, named Alfrigg, Dvalin, Berling, and Grer, who lived but a short way from the King's hall, and were so dexterous that they were masters in all handicraft. Men of this kind were called dwarfs; they lived in a stone, and mixed with mankind more than now. Odin loved Freyja greatly, and indeed she was the most beautiful of all women of that time. She had for herself a bower that was both fair arid strong, so that it is said that if the door was shut and locked, no man could enter it without Freyja's consent. One day Freyja went to the stone, which then stood open, and the dwarfs were busy making a gold neck-ring, which they had almost finished. Freyja admired the ring, and the dwarfs admired her. She offered to buy it from them both for gold and silver and other valuables, but they said they had no need of money. Each one said he was willing to sell his part of the ring, and would have nothing else for it than that she should lie one night with each of them. In the end they made this bargain, and after the four nights had passed Freyja received the ring.

Loki however told Odin of this, who ordered him to get the ring from Freyja. In order to do so he had to change himself into a fly, and creep in through a hole just large enough for a needle to enter. Freyja demanded it back from Odin, but he refused to restore it, unless she could bring it about that two kings, each having twenty kings under him, should fall out, and fight under such spells that those who fell should immediately rise up and fight as before, until some Christian man should be so bold, and have so much good fortune from his liege-lord as to venture to go into this battle and slay them. Then only would their troubles end. Freyja agreed and took the ring.

After this she sent Göndul the valkyrie to a sea-king named Hedinn, and instigated him to carry off Hild, the daughter of Högni, a king in Denmark. He also took Högni's queen, and laid her before the keel of his dragon-ship as it was pushed into the sea, so that she died there. After meeting with Göndul again he saw how much ill he had done, and sailed away west over the sea. Högni followed him and overtook him at the island of Hoy. There they began to fight the everlasting battle, and so strong were the spells laid upon them, that even those who were cleft down to the shoulders stood up again and fought as before, while Hild sat and looked on. This went on until Olaf Tryggvason became king over Norway, and some reckoned that 143 years had passed, before one of his followers freed them from their troubles.

In the first year of King Olaf's reign it is said that he came to the island of Hoy, and lay there at anchor one evening. It was a constant thing at this island, that the sentinels disappeared every night, and no one knew what became of them. This night Ivar Ljómi had to keep watch, and after all the rest had fallen asleep, he took the sword which Ironshield had formerly owned, and which his son Thorstein had given him, and went up on the island in all his war-gear. There he saw a man coming towards him, tall of stature, and all covered with blood, and with a very gloomy look. Ivar asked his name; he said he was Hedinn, son of Hjarrandi from Serkland, "sand, to tell you the truth, I and Högni, son of Halfdan, are to blame for the sentinels that have disappeared here, for we have been laid under so great spells and bondage, that we and our men fight on both by night and day, and this has gone on for many generations, while Hild, Högni's daughter, sits and looks on. Odin has laid all this on us, and there is no release for us, unless some Christian man fight with us; no one that he slays shall rise again, and so each one shall be freed from his troubles. Now I pray you to go to battle with us, for I know that you are a good Christian, and that the king you serve is of great good-fortune; my heart tells me too that we shall have some good from him and his men." Ivar consented to go with him, at which Hedinn became glad, and said, "You must beware not to encounter Högni in front, and not to kill me before him, for no mortal man may meet him face to face, or kill him, if I am dead first, for he has in his eyes a helm of awe, and spares no living wight. The only way is that I go in front of him and fight with him, while you come behind and slay him, for you will have little trouble in slaying me though I live longest of us all." Then they went to battle, and Ivar saw that all this was true that Hedinn had told him. He went behind Högni, and hewed at his head, and cleft it down to the shoulders. Then Högni fell dead and never rose again. After that he killed all the men who were at the battle, and Hedinn last of all. By this 'time it was daybreak, and he returned to the ships, and told this to the king. During the day they went ashore to where the battle had been, and could see no trace of what had taken place, but in proof of it there was the blood on Ivar's sword, and sentinels never disappeared there after that.

IN Thelemark they tell of an evil being, Lokje, who is sometimes identified with the Devil himself. Once he is said to have taken hold of a child by the back and set it down, saying, "So shall you sit until you are a year old." From this it comes that children have a hollow in each side of the hip, and cannot walk until the year is out.