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Then the older children ran off to play, while the little ones went to see the spear. The men began war games with swords and hammers and the women resumed the preparing of the feast.

Balder, rousing from his sleep, found himself alone. Then a little man, dressed in black velvet, came out of the dark forest and sat at the feet of Balder.

"Welcome, stranger," the Lord said. "I judge you have come in peace, for you have neither sword nor armor."

The little man laughed. "I do not need them. It seemed proper that I visit you and share your pleasure in the greatness of your family.”

"Yes. Great indeed. My wife bore me seven sons and three daughters and now I have many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. All worthy members of the House of the Wolves."

"You have every right to be proud of them; and so have I, since I was the father of your beloved wife.".

"How can that be?" asked the puzzled Balder. "I thought her the daughter of King Eric; at least he told me so."

"You had a right to believe him. I go by many names but in the southlands where the sun is warm and the grapes hang heavy on the vines I am called Pan. I often play the pipe, and when I do, all the folk, animals and birds make merry. I have that pipe with me, a simple reed one with but eight notes, yet the music is most pleasant. Let me play for you.”,

As he played on his pipe the little children gathered around him while the goats ran from the forest and the geese, wings flapping, came from the meadow. They all formed a large circle about him, and round and round they ran, laughing and bleating and honking while the little man played. The young women joined hands with their husbands and danced merrily. Finally the stranger stopped playing and the children returned to their games while the goats went back to the forest and the geese to the meadow.

"I was in the northlands years ago," the stranger said, "and there I met a lovely maid tending a flock of geese. For three days I stayed with her, playing for her pleasure, and then I wandered on. I heard that soon after that she married a great king and bore him a daughter who was called Thyra. Naturally the king thought the little one was his, and he had every right to think so, but his wife knew I was the man who had given her the child. This has often happened when I play the pipe for the pleasure of a maid. So all of the family of Wolves are mine as well as yours, and I am here to protect you from a danger that might, unless you act wisely, destroy them."

"That is a very strange tale," mused Balder. "Part of it seems improbable but, after seeing the children, goats and geese dance when you played the pipe, I can understand how the music might influence the soul of a maiden. But Thyra was a lovely bride and true wife any man should be proud of. If you had known her, as I knew her, for many years, you would be proud of such a daughter."

As they sat talking a runner came, breathing heavily, and bowing to Lord Balder, told of fifty dragon ships coming down the coast to Jutland, burning the little towns and spilling blood and dealing death to all who stood against them. Within two days more they would come to the land of the Wolves, and in each ship were twenty-one mighty Norsemen. Balder called his seven sons and told them the news brought by the runner.

"We will stay and fight!” cried one of the younger sons. "Why should the Wolves run from their enemies?"

But the little stranger, though silent, sent advice to Lord Balder and he said to his sons, "We could stay and fight but that would most surely be the ending of the Wolves, for we are few and they are many." He gave this command to his oldest son, Holga: "Store water and food on our dragon ships and take all of the family — the men, women and children aboard. On the ships place our best stallion and five fine mares and as many goats and geese as you can find room for. Sail as soon as you can and find a new home in the southlands, where I hope you will live at peace with your neighbors. As for me, I cannot, I will not flee, but will wait here till the spinner comes to the end of my life rope and the cutter cuts the strands. Die I must some day, and soon, and it is better to die fighting than in my bed."

"Tonight you will set fire to Balder's Balar so he will know that we remember and honor him. In return he may help you in your new life, give large crops and more babies so the House of Wolves will ever prosper. Be sure to take the branches of mistletoe with you to hang in your new homes, for perhaps that magic plant does not grow in the southlands to which you are sailing. I will sleep tonight, but all of you must work loading the ships, for there is no time to waste."

Late the next day the Wolves rowed out of the little land-locked harbor in their six large dragon ships. There were not enough men to sit at the one hundred and twenty oars, so all the women sat with them and the children helped as best they could, two to an oar.

Lord Balder sat in his chair before his house. None of his sons were there to listen to his words of wisdom; no harper played for his pleasure and no little children combed and brushed his hair. To him much of the past was forgotten, while the present seemed like a dream and the future was so hid in a mist of uncertainty that it was useless to worry over it.

Then the stranger came and once again sat on the ground at the feet of Lord Balder, and he asked, ”What will you do now?”

"I do not know," Balder replied. "My family are safely sailing to a new home in the southlands. As for me, I am simply waiting to kill and be killed, for I am only one man and cannot prevail against these Norsemen who sail against me in fifty dozen ships. If I were a high rock in the harbor I might wreck the ships flung against me by the waves. If I were a giant oak I could stand in front of my house. The mistletoe would grow on me and the birds would nest in my moss-covered branches. But I am neither a rock nor an oak but only a very old man, so I must die. But when they kill me I will go fighting to Valhalla and, in spite of my age I may be able to take some of these proud Norsemen with me."

"I like the idea of your being a giant oak tree," the little man said softly. "You have sailed the seas but were never really happy unless your feet touched the earth. I think you would enjoy being an oak. Since that is your desire I will arrange the matter in a way that will be very satisfactory to you but somewhat disconcerting to those warriors who are anticipating the pleasure of killing you."

"I do not worry about dying,” answered Balder, "for everyone who lives long enough grows old and finally the old must die like a rotten tree that at last falls to the ground. But I grieve for my Thor hammer. It would be a sorry thing to have it taken by these wild men from the North. For that hammer has been used by the Wolves for many long years. Had I been wise I would have told my oldest son, Holga, to take it with him; but, filled with the pride and foolishness of years, I kept it hoping that I might once again kill with it. I should have known that I have only strength to raise it from the ground and place it upon my thigh.”

"If I do all else I will also care for the hammer," the stranger replied, "for I am as proud of it as you. Perhaps Thor sent it falling from the skies, but I helped the old smith when he fastened it to the handle." Then the man played a very simple melody on his pipe and Balder slept.