“Aye, aye,” said Lavrans slowly. “Maybe—but methinks ’tis well not to speak of such things overmuch. One should not, I say, grudge folks who have lost their peace in the parish, whatever peace they can find among the fells. Yet have I seen yellow fields and brave meadows where few folk know that such things be, and herds have I seen of cattle and small stock, but of these I know not whether they belonged to mankind or to other folk—” “Oh! aye,” says Isrid. “Bears and wolves get the blame for the beasts that are missed from the sæters here, but there are worse thieves among the fells than they.” “Do you call them worse?” asked Lavrans thoughtfully, stroking his daughter’s cap. “In the hills to the south under the Boar Fells I once saw three little lads, and the greatest was even as Kristin here—yellow hair they had, and coats of skin. They gnashed their teeth at me like wolf-cubs before they ran to hide. ’Twere little wonder if the poor man who owned them were fain to lift a cow or two—” “Oh! both wolves and bears have young,” says Isrid testily. “And you spare not them, Lavrans, neither them nor their young. Yet they have no lore of law nor of Christendom, as have these evil-doers you wish so well to—” “Think you I wish them too well, because I wish them a little better than the worst?” said Lavrans, smiling a little. “But come now, let us see what cheer Ragnfrid has sent with us to-day.” He took Kristin by the hand and led her with him. And as they went he bent and said softly: “I thought of your three small brothers, little Kristin.” They peeped into the watch-house, but it was close in there and smelt of mould. Kristin took a look around, but there were only some earthen benches about the walls, a hearth-stone in the middle of the floor, and some barrels of tar and faggots of pine-roots and birch-bark. Lavrans thought ’twould be best they should eat without doors, and a little way down among the birches they found a fine piece of green-sward. The pack-horse was unloaded, and they stretched themselves upon the grass. In the wallets Ragnfrid had given them was plenty food of the best—soft bread and bannocks, butter and cheese, pork and wind-dried reindeer meat, lard, boiled brisket of beef, two kegs with German beer, and of mead a little jar. The carving of the meat and portioning it round went quickly, while Halvdan, the oldest of the men, struck fire and made a blaze—it was safer to have a good fire out here in the woods. Isrid and Arne gathered heather and dwarf-birch and cast it on the blaze. It crackled as the fire tore the fresh green from the twigs, and small white flakes flew high upon the wisps of red flame; the smoke whirled thick and black toward the clear sky. Kristin sat and watched; it seemed to her the fire was glad that it was out there, and free, and could play and frisk. ’Twas otherwise than when, at home, it sat upon the hearth and must work at cooking food and giving light to the folks in the room.