On the death of Olaf, the two allied kings hastened to divide Norway, or, at least, the greater portion of it, between them. Their lieutenants were the two sons of Hako the jarl, who had assisted them so effectually in the defeat of Olaf. The administration of these princes is mentioned with respect by Norwegian and Icelandic writers. Though some of the local jarls were oppressive, _they_ were no tyrants; and, though Christians by profession, they did not persecute, but left the progress of their faith to time and reason. Twelve years they exercised the government, when Eric received a summons from his liege superior, Sweyn, king of Denmark, to aid that monarch in the final conquest of England.[228] Leaving his son Hako, then about seventeen years of age, with the administration of the government, and confiding the youth to the mature counsels of Einar the Archer, he sailed, with all the force he had been able to collect, for the coast of England, never to return. But a rival was now to appear on the scene, before whom his own power and his brother Sweyn’s was to dissolve into air.[229] In a former page[230], we have related the tragical fate of Harald Grenske, who did not live to see the birth of his son, Olaf the Saint. Fearing the vengeance of Hako the jarl, then ruler of Norway, Asta, the widow of Harald, no sooner heard of his death than she repaired to her father’s house in the uplands, where she brought forth her son. Under her father’s roof the child felt not the loss of a parent. Though she married a second time, his education was not neglected. Sigurd Syr, the second husband, was an easy, good-natured man, whose time was wholly occupied by his immense estates, and who left the instruction of his step-son to one better qualified for the task,—Rane, one of the favourite chiefs of the deceased Harald. As Olaf was destined to be a saint, miracles enough are recorded of his infancy, and of the period which preceded it. These, as we are arrived at the historic period, we shall omit. Great praise is bestowed on the precocious talents of young Olaf. To us they appear indicative of the spoiled child. One day, says Snorro, Sigurd, being desirous to ride into the country, commanded him to saddle one of his horses,—a menial office, but one that the noblest youths were accustomed to discharge. He brought a goat instead of a horse or mule, properly accoutred, and with provoking officiousness proposed to assist him in mounting. “Thus it always is!” observed Sigurd; “any command of mine becomes the subject of ridicule.” In the military exercises of the age Olaf was a proficient. He could bend the bow, or dart the spear, or handle the sword, with as much dexterity and as much strength as any youth of the province; and in swimming he had few rivals. Nor was he less attentive to the manufacture and repair of armour,—a very necessary accomplishment to a warrior, and especially to a king, at a time when smiths were not numerous and were seldom at hand.