"Yes, every spring he comes back to bless the crops and bring warmth, peace and happiness to all his people. That is why we burn the Balar and make merry, for he has come back and will be with us until the snow lies heavy on the earth. Then he will return to Valhalla. He is a great god, and I am fortunate to be so named as he."
Then Holga, the oldest son, returned with the other men from the dark forest, carrying bunches of mistletoe.
"Did you have success?" asked Balder.
"Yes, Olaf cut the mistletoe off the sacred oak tree with his arrows. As the branches fell we caught them so they would not touch the ground."
"Good!" exclaimed the old man. "Now divide it with the gold knife. Place branches in every house, and the women shall eat the seeds so that there will be babies next year. Now send me the blind harper."
The harper, led by his pupil, came and sat on a pillow at Lord Balder's feet. He was almost as old as the ruler of the Wolves. For many years he had played on the gold harp with three brass strings and sung songs he had learned from his teacher, who, in turn, had been taught them by an older singer of songs. His pupil sat near him, but his harp was of wood, with strings of braided horsehair. On this he accompanied the blind harper, repeating the words of the song in a soft whisper so that, when the time came, he would become the harper of the family and play on the golden harp.
The blind harper asked Lord Balder, "Is there a special song you would have me sing?"
"Yes," Balder replied. "Sing of the very old days when we ruled in the islands beyond the setting sun, and how, when that land sank beneath the angry sea the boy Scyld, son of Othin, sailed to Zealand, married the goddess Gefjon and founded our family. This is the song that always should be sung on this day."
The harper sang that song, which he had learned from his master, who, in turn, had learned it from his. For many generations that song had been sung, each harper adding new and fantastic touches so that the facts were buried under a mound of fancy; but it was a brave song and resounded with the past glory of the Wolves. While he sang Balder went to sleep.
Holga's oldest daughter turned to her father. "Tell us how your father won his beautiful bride. Grandfather Balder should tell the tale but now he is asleep and you must tell it for him. Many of us know it, almost word for word, but some of the little ones should hear it again, for no feast of Balder the Beautiful is complete without the telling of the tale."
”I will tell it," her father replied, ”though it will come second hand and it would have been better had my father stayed awake to tell it; but he is growing old, and more and more he sleeps in his chair with the Thor hammer on his thighs. Now you children cease from your playing and gather around me. Perhaps the older Wolves will forget, for a little while, their age and pretend they are children listening for the first time to a story of our Lord Balder and how he won his bride, the beautiful Thyra, daughter of Folkes-King Eric of Wearfold, who ruled in the land where the nights are half a year long.
"Balder, son of Olaf, Lord of the Wolves, though only twenty years of age, had voyaged to the southlands seeking treasure from the weaklings of faraway kingdoms. He was a man above the common man, born to command and be obeyed. His father knew full well that some day he would go in a burning ship to Valhalla and longed for his son to sail into the northlands, find and marry a princess, fair-haired and blue-eyed, so the House of Wolves would grow and prosper.
"Balder, wishing to please his father, sailed in his dragon ship with twenty of his best warriors. Driven by wind, the ship sailed north, and wind lacking, the warriors rowed, ten on each side; but ever Balder stood at the helm, steering the ship from pounding surf and treacherous rocks. On and on they sailed until they came to a faraway land, shaken with bitter winds, and there they saw a castle half-buried in the drifted snow.
"Leaving the ship they went to the castle and there gained entrance to the banquet hall, where King Eric sat. High rose the flames in the wide fireplace. All around, the armed warriors sat, while wolfhounds slept contented on the rush-strewn floor. The warriors feasted on seal and bear meat washed down with mead, telling tales of war and love and wild adventures of the past. But King Eric and Prince Balder held quiet converse, asking and answering many questions. Then the King sent an old woman to his daughter, requesting her presence that she might help entertain the Prince.
"She was a woman fair, broad at the shoulders, with deep blue eyes and Saxon hair, the braid of which, when she walked, swept the floor. One look at her and Balder knew that she would make a loving bride, and fast his heart beat as he felt the wonderment of love.
"Then the King told of a giant, a spear's length and more, who ruled the touching lands. He had few warriors and needed none, for all he leapt against he crushed and with the killings added to his riches. He was a mighty priest, favored by the gods, and none could stand against him.
"This cruel giant had sent messengers demanding that the King should send his daughter with a dower of jewels and much gold, and claiming that the gods had willed that they should wed.
"Balder cried in answer, 'This must never be. I and my twenty Wolves will fight this craven giant and thus make safe your kingdom and protect the maid. The gracious Princess answered for her father. 'Oh, Prince, you seem a good and kindly man. I grieve to have you die. Yet go you must, you and your great-limbed warriors. Here is my token. Wear it on your helm; it may protect you in the coming battle.
"He took her token, wound the golden chain around his helm and told her that he would soon return victorious. The next day and the next Balder and all his men toiled through the drifted snow, and at long last they came to the giant's castle near a lake of crystal ice, windswept of snow. Here they put on skates of reindeer bone and skimming over the ice came to the castle door, where stood the giant awaiting them. Balder cried, 'Thou cur, who cannot kill the prey yourself but eat the carrion nobler bears do leave! The time has come when you shall perish. I and twenty of my warriors have come to speed you on your way and thus rid the land of such a noisome pest.'
"The giant skated to them, glorying in his strength and sure of victory. Though oft wounded, he killed seven Wolves. Then Balder, grief-stricken to see his comrades die, went berserk and threw his hammer at the giant. So great the throw, so sure the aim, the hammer broke through breastplate, shattered ribs and tore the giant's back in two.
"They stripped him of his armor, took his weapons and left his broken body on the ice, fit food for the great meat-eating white owls to feed on. Then, carrying their seven dead, they slowly returned to the castle of King Eric; but before they ate they placed their dead on a dragon ship and sent it burning through the floating ice to Valhalla.
"And after this Balder told them of the battle on the frozen lake and all the banquet hall rang with shouts of praise. That winter Balder and his Wolves guested in the castle, but when summer came again and all the land was green with grass and flowers he sailed southward taking with him his bride, the lovely Thyra. Olaf rejoiced to see his son again and swore that he had seldom seen a lovelier woman. He bought his dead wife's jewels and her crown and gave them to the proud and happy bride.
"When Olaf died Lord Balder ruled, and wrong and crime were banished from this happy land as mist is scattered by the summer sun. And so the House of Wolves lives on and always will, for nothing can destroy our race as long as we hold fast to courage, pride and faith.
"Now that is the tale so often told by my father. I first heard it when I was but a lad. When he told it on the feast day of Balder the Beautiful he always ended thus: Perhaps some of you children may not think the giant was as large as I said, but he was taller than his spear, which now stands in the corner of my house. None of the Wolves, with hand held high, could touch the point. Yet, after he died, we laid that spear beside his body and the point came only to his shoulder. So you may see for yourself that he was a mighty man. Yet, with one blow of the Thor hammer, I broke his back in two. Thus our Lord Balder ended his story and, now as he is asleep, you may go into his house and see the spear. He always keeps the hammer with him and even now it rests upon his thighs, but it has been many years since he had thrown it at a mark and none of his sons can do much more than raise it from the ground."