“What is the good of asking Olaf?” broke in Ragnar, with a loud laugh. “What does Olaf know about bears? He has been asleep for the last half-hour dreaming of Athalbrand’s blue-eyed daughter; or perhaps he is making up another poem.” “Olaf sees farther when he seems asleep than some of us do when we are awake,” answered Steinar hotly. “Oh yes,” replied Ragnar. “Sleeping or waking, Olaf is perfect in your eyes, for you’ve drunk the same milk, and that ties you tighter than a rope. Wake up, now, brother Olaf, and tell us: Is not the bear dead?” Then I answered, “Why, of course, a bear is dead; see its skull, also pieces of its hide?” “There!” exclaimed Ragnar. “Our family prophet has settled the matter. Let us go home.” “Olaf said that _a_ bear was dead,” answered Steinar, hesitating. Ragnar, who had already swung himself round in his quick fashion, spoke back over his shoulder: “Isn’t that enough for you? Do you want to hunt a skull or the raven sitting on it? Or is this, perchance, one of Olaf’s riddles? If so, I am too cold to guess riddles just now.” “Yet I think there is one for you to guess, brother,” I said gently, “and it is: Where is the live bear hiding? Can’t you see that there were two bears on that ice-head, and that one has killed and eaten the other?” “How do you know that?” asked Ragnar. “Because I saw the slot of the second as we passed the birch wood yonder. It has a split claw on the left forefoot and the others are all worn by the ice.” “Then why in Odin’s name did you not say so before?” exclaimed Ragnar angrily. Now I was ashamed to confess that I had been dreaming, so I answered at hazard: “Because I wished to look upon the sea and the floating ice. See what wondrous colours they take in this light!” When he heard this, Steinar burst out laughing till tears came into his blue eyes and his broad shoulders shook. But Ragnar, who cared nothing for scenery or sunsets, did not laugh. On the contrary, as was usual with him when vexed, he lost his temper and swore by the more evil of the gods. Then he turned on me and said: “Why not tell the truth at once, Olaf? You are afraid of this beast, and that’s why you let us come on here when you knew it was in the wood. You hoped that before we got back there it would be too dark to hunt.” At this taunt I flushed and gripped the shaft of my long hunting spear, for among us Northmen to be told that he was afraid of anything was a deadly insult to a man. “If you were not my brother----” I began, then checked myself, for I was by nature easy-tempered, and went on: “It is true, Ragnar, I am not so fond of hunting as you are. Still, I think that there will be time to fight this bear and kill or be killed by it, before it grows dark, and if not I will return alone to-morrow morning.”