Erling the Bold | Page 3

Haldor's eldest son, Erling, grew to be
a man. He was very like his father--almost a giant in size; fair, very
strong, and remarkably handsome. His silken yellow hair fell in heavy
curls on a pair of the broadest shoulders in the dale. Although so young,
he already had a thick short beard, which was very soft and curly. His
limbs were massive, but they were so well proportioned, and his
movements so lithe, that his great size and strength were not fully
appreciated until one stood close by his side or fell into his powerful
grasp.
Erling was lion-like, yet he was by nature gentle and retiring. He had a
kindly smile, a hearty laugh, and bright blue eyes. Had he lived in
modern days he would undoubtedly have been a man of peace. But he
lived "long long ago"--therefore he was a man of war. Being unusually
fearless, his companions of the valley called him Erling the Bold. He
was, moreover, extremely fond of the sea, and often went on viking
cruises in his own ships, whence he was also styled Erling the Sea-king,
although he did not at that time possess a foot of land over which to
exercise kingly authority.
Now, it must be explained here that the words Sea-king and Viking do
not denote the same thing. One is apt to be misled by the termination of
the latter word, which has no reference whatever to the royal title king.
A viking was merely a piratical rover on the sea, the sea-warrior of the
period, but a Sea-king was a leader and commander of vikings. Every
Sea-king was a viking, but every viking was not a Sea-king; just as
every Admiral is a sailor, but every sailor is not an Admiral. When it is
said that Erling was a Sea-king, it is much as if we had said he was an
admiral in a small way.
CHAPTER TWO.

INTRODUCES, AMONG OTHERS, THE HERO AND HEROINE,
AND OPENS UP A VIEW OF NORSE LIFE IN THE OLDEN TIME.
Ulf of Romsdal had a daughter named Hilda. She was fair, and
extremely pretty.
The young men said that her brow was the habitation of the lily, her
eye the mirror of the heavens, her cheek the dwelling-place of the rose.
True, in the ardour of their feelings and strength of their imaginations
they used strong language; nevertheless it was impossible to overpraise
the Norse maiden. Her nut-brown hair fell in luxuriant masses over her
shapely shoulders, reaching far below the waist; her skin was fair, and
her manners engaging. Hilda was undoubtedly blue-eyed and beautiful.
She was just seventeen at this time. Those who loved her (and there
were few who did not) styled her the sunbeam.
Erling and Hilda had dwelt near each other from infancy. They had
been playmates, and for many years were as brother and sister to each
other. Erling's affection had gradually grown into a stronger passion,
but he never mentioned the fact to anyone, being exceedingly
shamefaced and shy in regard to love. He would have given his ears to
have known that his love was returned, but he dared not to ask. He was
very stupid on this point. In regard to other things he was sharp-witted
above his fellows. None knew better than he how to guide the
"warship" through the intricate mazes of the island-studded coast of
Norway; none equalled him in deeds of arms; no one excelled him in
speed of foot, in scaling the fells, or in tracking the wolf and bear to
their dens; but all beat him in love-making! He was wondrously slow
and obtuse at that, and could by no means discover whether or not
Hilda regarded him as a lover or a brother. As uncertainty on this point
continued, Erling became jealous of all the young men who approached
her, and in proportion as this feeling increased his natural disposition
changed, and his chafing spirit struggled fiercely within him. But his
native good sense and modesty enabled him pretty well to conceal his
feelings. As for Hilda, no one knew the state of her mind. It is probable
that at this time she herself had not a very distinct idea on the point.
Hilda had a foster-sister named Ada, who was also very beautiful. She

was unusually dark for a Norse maiden. Her akin indeed was fair, but
her hair and eyes were black like the raven's wing. Her father was King
Hakon of Drontheim.
It was the custom in those warlike days for parents to send out some of
their children to be fostered by others--in order, no doubt, to render
next to impossible the total extirpation of their families at a time when
sudden descents upon households were common. By thus scattering