The First Christmas Tree | Page 8

dragged at the silver chain about her neck
until the rough links pierced her flesh, and the red drops fell unheeded
on the snow of her breast.
A sigh passed through the crowd, like the murmur of the forest before
the storm breaks. Yet no one spoke save Hunrad:
"Yes, my Prince, both bow and spear shalt thou have, for the way is
long, and thou art a brave huntsman. But in darkness thou must
journey for a little space, and with eyes blindfolded. Fearest thou?"
"Naught fear I," said the boy, "neither darkness, nor the great bear,
nor the were-wolf. For I am Gundhar's son, and the defender of my
folk."
Then the priest led the child in his raiment of lamb's-wool to a broad
stone in front of the fire. He gave him his little bow tipped with silver,
and his spear with shining head of steel. He bound the child's eyes with
a white cloth, and bade him kneel beside the stone with his face to the
east. Unconsciously the wide arc of spectators drew inward toward the
centre, as the ends of the bow draw together when the cord is stretched.
Winfried moved noiselessly until he stood close behind the priest.
The old man stooped to lift a black hammer of stone from the
ground,--the sacred hammer of the god Thor. Summoning all the
strength of his withered arms, he swung it high in the air. It poised for
an instant above the child's fair head--then turned to fall.
One keen cry shrilled out from where the women stood: "Me! take me!
not Bernhard!"
The flight of the mother towards her child was swift as the falcon's
swoop. But swifter still was the hand of the deliverer.
Winfried's heavy staff thrust mightily against the hammer's handle as it

fell. Sideways it glanced from the old man's grasp, and the black stone,
striking on the altar's edge, split in twain. A shout of awe and joy rolled
along the living circle. The branches of the oak shivered. The flames
leaped higher. As the shout died away the people saw the lady Irma,
with her arms clasped round her child, and above them, on the
altar-stone, Winfried, his face shining like the face of an angel.
[Illustration--Then Winfried told the story of Bethlehem]

IV
THE FELLING OF THE TREE
IV
A swift mountain-flood rolling down its channel; a huge rock tumbling
from the hill-side and falling in mid-stream; the baffled waters broken
and confused, pausing in their flow, dash high against the rock,
foaming and murmuring, with divided impulse, uncertain whether to
turn to the right or the left.
Even so Winfried's bold deed fell into the midst of the thoughts and
passions of the council. They were at a standstill. Anger and wonder,
reverence and joy and confusion surged through the crowd. They knew
not which way to move: to resent the intrusion of the stranger as an
insult to their gods, or to welcome him as the rescuer of their darling
prince.
The old priest crouched by the altar, silent. Conflicting counsels
troubled the air. Let the sacrifice go forward; the gods must be
appeased. Nay, the boy must not die; bring the chieftain's best horse
and slay it in his stead; it will be enough; the holy tree loves the blood
of horses. Not so, there is a better counsel yet; seize the stranger whom
the gods have led hither as a victim and make his life pay the forfeit of
his daring.
The withered leaves on the oak rustled and whispered overhead. The

fire flared and sank again. The angry voices clashed against each other
and fell like opposing waves. Then the chieftain Gundhar struck the
earth with his spear and gave his decision.
"All have spoken, but none are agreed. There is no voice of the council.
Keep silence now, and let the stranger speak. His words shall give us
judgment, whether he is to live or to die."
Winfried lifted himself high upon the altar, drew a roll of parchment
from his bosom, and began to read.
"A letter from the great Bishop of Rome, who sits on a golden throne,
to the people of the forest, Hessians and Thuringians, Franks and
Saxons. In nomine Domini, sanctae et individuae trinitatis, amen!"_
A murmur of awe ran through the crowd. "It is the sacred tongue of the
Romans: the tongue that is heard and understood by the wise men of
every land. There is magic in it. Listen!"
Winfried went on to read the letter, translating it into the speech of the
people.
"'We have sent unto you our Brother Boniface, and appointed him your
bishop, that he may teach you the only true faith, and baptize you, and
lead you back from the