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The sun was setting, and the trees cast long shadows across the road, when the two horsemen reached the end of the valley. On both sides the hills receded; by the side of the brook the ground was covered with fresh grass and bright meadow flowers. A red-haired fox crossed the path in front of them.

“The red-head knows that the dwellings of men are near,” said the watchman; “he likes to lurk where he can hear the crowing of the cocks.”

Before them in the evening light lay the village, enclosed by a ditch and a bulwark planted with trees; through the intervals of the trees white gables under brown thatched roofs were here and there to be seen, and small clouds of smoke rose from the roofs. Apart from the village, on a small eminence, the dwelling of the Chief reared itself, surrounded by its own special palings and ditch. Above the numerous buildings and stables of the residence towered high the roof of the great hall, the ridge of which was ornamented with beautifully carved horns.

A troop of boys were practicing warlike games in the meadows in front. They had erected a high scaffold, and were each in his turn springing up to the top and down again, shouting with pleasure. As the horsemen approached, the boys ran on to the road and stared defiantly at the stranger. The watchman called one of the boys, and whispered to him; the boy flew bounding along like a young deer to the Chieftain's house, while the horsemen with difficulty restrained their spirited steeds. The little children danced in a circle in the village street - the little boys naked but for their woolen jackets, the little girls wearing white shifts; they were singing and stamping barefooted in the dust. The ring broke up when the horsemen approached. Women's heads were visible at the apertures of the houses, and out of each door sprang a troop of blue-eyed children; men also came to the doors, scrutinizing with keen looks the appearance of the stranger, and the watchman did not fail to warn his companion to look to the right and left and greet the inhabitants as he rode along. “For,” said he, “a friendly greeting opens the heart, and thou mayst soon need the good-will of the neighbors.”

Meanwhile the boy had run to the Chief's dwelling. Prince Answald was sitting in a wooden arbor which formed a shady screen in front of his dwelling; he was a tall man, broad shouldered, with a frank countenance under his gray hairs. He wore over his shirt a woolen jacket trimmed with beaver skin, his leather stocking were laced with gay-coloured straps, and only his dignified deportment and the respect with which the others spoke to him showed him to be the master of the house. He sat surrounded by his companions, and looked with satisfaction on the two well-fed oxen that were being driven past him by the farm servant, because they were selected to be sacrificed for an approaching feast to the principal dwellers of the district.

The boy presented himself adroitly, and made known his message in a whisper to an old man with shrewd countenance who stood to the left of the Chief and knew well how to give courteous answers to his master.

"The young Wolf brings a stranger here," stated the old man, in answer to the inquiring look of his Chief. "The man came without escort past the Catts, without a horse, or the dress of a warrior; a solitary and unhappy man, he seeks hospitality."

"Prepare him a welcome in the hall," said Prince Answald, calmly, giving a signal to the men to leave him; and to his trusty friend he said, "I see with anxiety foreign strollers. Since the kindling of the Roman war on the Rhine, hot sparks fly through the land, and many a fellow who is victim of violence roams from one country to the other, committing outrage from a spirit of bitter hate."

"If he comes as a fugitive from the south he may have intelligence of the Roman war."

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