combat followed, which was fatal to many of his attendants, and to himself. A rich prey was the reward of this fratricide; and Eric, exulting, returned to his northern kingdom. Seeing the odium in which the author of this deed, notwithstanding his influence over the now weak mind of Harald, was held by most of the Norwegians, Halfdan the Black made an attempt to assassinate the murderer, by setting fire to the country house in which he slept; but the dormitory was separated from the main building, and Eric escaped. To revenge this outrage on his darling son, Harald collected his troops, and marched against Halfdan; but the intervention of an aged jarl effected a reconciliation. That reconciliation, however, was not sincere, so far, at least, as Halfdan and Eric were concerned.[181] [Sidenote: 910 to 913.] For the doting attachment of Harald to the most bloody of his sons, no good reason has been or can be assigned. He was not the oldest son, nor was his mother, Ragnilda, the most beloved of the royal wives. Yet this paternal fondness did not screen the royal youth from the dangers of his profession. As early as his twelfth year, he is said to have become a piratical chief, and, with the five vessels which he had received from his father, to have ravaged all the maritime coasts of Europe from Russia to Ireland. On that of Finland he had, says the legend, a marvellous adventure, which, as it has been made the foundation of some tales popular in the middle ages, we shall abridge. While he and his companions were in the remotest part of that magic region, on the very borders of the still more wondrous Biarmia, they one day reached a cottage the mistress of which was a supernatural beauty. She told them that they were in great danger; that she had two lovers, the most able magicians of the country, who were also her instructors; that they could hunt the footsteps of man on snow or ice, with as much instinct as the blood-hound; that their arrows never missed aim; that they put all strangers to death; that, when angry, every living thing died beneath their glance, and the earth itself was affected. As they came daily to the hut, there seemed no hope of escape until she promised to conceal them, and to aid them in the destruction of her odious suitors. Having concealed them, she took a linen bag full of what they conceived to be ashes, and scattered the contents around the hut, both within and without. The Finns soon entered, and inquired what strangers had arrived; and on her replying that she had seen nobody, they expressed no little surprise: they had traced footsteps in the snow to the very door. However, they lighted a fire, cooked their provisions, and when satiated, Gunhilda prepared her own bed. There she lay down, but they would not. As they were rivals, both passionately in love, and each afraid that, while he slept, the other might obtain some advantage over the lady, they resolved to remain awake. During three successive nights