Ragnhild had strange
dreams. The queen dreamed that a thorn which she took out of her
clothes grew in her hands until one end of it took root in the ground and
the other shot up into the air. It kept on growing until it was a great tree,
so high that she could barely see its top. The lower part of it was
blood-red, higher up it was bright green, and the spreading branches
were white as snow. So widely they spread that they seemed to shade
the whole country of Norway.
King Halfdan did not like it that his wife had such strange dreams and
he had none. He asked a sage why this was so, and was told that if he
wanted to have dreams as strange he must sleep in a pig-sty. A queer
recipe for dreams, one would think, but the king tried it, and dreamed
that his hair grew long and beautiful and hung in bright locks over his
shoulders, some of them down to his waist, and one, the brightest and
most beautiful of all, still farther down.
When he told the sage of this dream, the wise man said it meant that
from him was to come a mighty race of kings, one of whom should be
the greatest and most glorious of them all. This great hero, Snorri tells
us, was supposed to be Olaf the Saint, who reigned two hundred years
later, and under whom Christianity first flourished in Norway.
Soon after these dreams a son was born to the queen, who was named
Harold. A bright, handsome lad he grew to be, wise of mind and strong
of body and winning the favor of all who knew him. Many tales which
we cannot believe are told of his boyhood. Here is one of them. Once
when the king was seated at the Yuletide feast all the meats and the ale
disappeared from the table, leaving an empty board for the monarch
and his guests. There was present a Finn who was said to be a sorceror,
and him the king put to the torture, to find out who had done this thing.
Young Harold, displeased with his father's act, rescued the Finn from
his tormentors and went with him to the mountains.
On they went, miles and leagues away, until they came to a place where
a Finnish chief was holding a great feast. Harold stayed there until
spring, when he told his host that he must return to his father's halls.
Then the chief said:
"King Halfdan was very angry when I took his meat and ale from him
last winter, and now I will reward you with good tidings for what you
did. Your father is dead and his kingdom waits for you to inherit. And
some day you will rule over all Norway."
Harold found it to be as the Finn had said, and thus in 860, when he
was only ten years old, he came to the throne. He was young to be at
the head of a turbulent people and some ambitious men there were who
sought to take advantage of his youth, but his uncle guardian fought for
him and put them all down. Harold was now the greatest among the
petty kings of Norway and a wish to be ruler of the whole land grew up
in his soul.
Here comes in a story which may not be all true, but is pretty enough to
tell. It is to the effect that love drove Harold to strive for the kingdom.
Old Snorri tells the story, which runs this way.
King Erik of Hördaland had a fair daughter named Gyda, the fame of
whose beauty reached Harold's ears and he sent messengers to win her
for himself. But the maid was proud and haughty and sent back word:
"Tell your master that I will not yield myself to any man who has only
a few districts for his kingdom. Is there no king in the land who can
conquer all Norway, as King Erik has conquered Sweden and King
Gorm Denmark?"
This was all the answer she had for the heralds, though they pleaded for
a better answer, saying that King Harold was surely great enough for
any maid in the land.
"This is my answer to King Harold," she said. "I will promise to
become his wife if for my sake he shall conquer all Norway and rule it
as freely as King Erik and King Gorm rule their kingdoms. Only when
he has done this can he be called the king of a people."
When the heralds returned they told the king of their ill success and
advised him to take the girl by force.
"Not so," Harold replied. "The girl has spoken
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