The Viking’s wife sat on the cross-bench in the open banqueting-hall. She wore a robe of silk, with bracelets of gold and beads of amber. She had put on her dress of state, and the bard sang of her, and told of the golden treasure she had brought to her wealthy lord, while he was delighted with the beautiful child, for he could see it by day in all its loveliness. He was well pleased with the baby’s wildness, and said she would become a right warrior-maid, and fight as his champion. She did not even blink her eyes when a skilful hand cut her eyelashes with a sharp sword as a rough joke. The barrel of mead was drained, and a second brought in, and all got well drunk, for they were folk who loved to drink their fill. They had a proverb: ‘The kine know when to go to stall from pasture, but the fool never knows when he has had enough.’ They knew it well enough, but know and do are different things. They had another proverb, too: ‘The dearest friend grows wearisome when he outstays his welcome.’ But on they stayed. Meat and mead are good: it was glorious!--and the slaves slept in the warm ashes, and dipped their fingers in the fat and licked them. Oh, it was a great time! Once again that year the Viking went on a raid, though the autumn gales were rising. He led his men to the coast of Britain--‘just over the water,’ he said; and his wife remained with the little girl. And truth to tell, the foster-mother soon grew fonder of the unhappy toad with the gentle eyes and deep sigh than of the beautiful child that fought and bit all about her. The raw, dank autumn mist, ‘Mouthless,’ which devours the leaves lay over forest and moor; ‘Bird Featherless,’ as they called the snow, flew closely all around; winter was nigh at hand. The sparrows took the storks’ nests for themselves, and criticised the ways of the late owners during their absence. And where were mother-and father-stork and their young ones all the time? Down in the land of Egypt, where the sun shone warm, as it does on a fine summer’s day with us. Tamarinds and acacias bloomed round them; the crescent of Mahomet gleamed bright from the cupolas of the mosques; pairs and pairs of storks sat on the slender turrets, and rested after their long journey. Great flocks of them had built nest by nest on the huge pillars and broken arches of temples and forgotten cities. The date-palm raised its foliage on high, as if to keep off the glare of the sun. Grey-white pyramids stood out against the clear sky across the desert, where the ostrich raced at speed, and the lion crouched with great, wise eyes, and saw the marble sphinx that lay half-buried in the sand. The Nile flood had retired; the whole bed of the river was swarming with frogs, and to the stork family that was quite the best thing to be seen in the country. The young ones thought their eyes must be playing them tricks, it all seemed so wonderful.