The mother brought forward food for him; he sat down to the table, but did not say "in the name of Jesus," as the boy had been accustomed to hear. When he had finished eating, he got up from the table, and said,-- "Now I feel very comfortable; let me rest a little while." And he was allowed to rest on Thrond's bed. For Thrond a bed was made on the floor. As the boy lay there, he felt cold on the side that was turned away from the fire, and that was the left side. He discovered that it was because this side was exposed to the chill night air; for he was lying out in the wood. How came he in the wood? He got up and looked about him, and saw that there was fire burning a long distance off, and that he was actually alone in the wood. He longed to go home to the fire; but could not stir from the spot. Then a great fear overcame him; for wild beasts might be roaming about, trolls and ghosts might appear to him; he must get home to the fire; but he could not stir from the spot. Then his terror grew, he strove with all his might to gain self-control, and was at last able to cry, "Mother," and then he awoke. "Dear child, you have had bad dreams," said she, and took him up. A shudder ran through him, and he glanced round. The stranger was gone, and he dared not inquire after him. His mother appeared in her black dress, and started for the parish. She came home with two new strangers, who also had black hair and who wore flat caps. They did not say "in the name of Jesus," when they ate, and they talked in low tones with the father. Afterward the latter and they went into the barn, and came out again with a large box, which the men carried between them. They placed it on a sled, and said farewell. Then the mother said:-- "Wait a little, and take with you the smaller box he brought here with him." And she went in to get it. But one of the men said,-- "_He_ can have that," and he pointed at Thrond. "Use it as well as _he_ who is now lying _here_," added the other stranger, pointing at the large box. Then they both laughed and went on. Thrond looked at the little box which thus came into his possession. "What is there in it?" asked he. "Carry it in and find out," said the mother. He did as he was told, but his mother helped him open it. Then a great joy lighted up his face; for he saw something very light and fine lying there. "Take it up," said his mother. He put just one finger down on it, but quickly drew it back again, in great alarm. "It cries," said he. "Have courage," said his mother, and he grasped it with his whole hand and drew it forth from the box. He weighed it and turned it round, he laughed and felt of it. "Dear me! what is it?" asked he, for it was as light as a toy. "It is a fiddle." This was the way that Thrond Alfson got his first violin.