Hakon of Rogen's Saga

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1 2 IF YOU have learned to be alone without fear, then no man can call you weak, though your arms be unfit to wield a sword or an axe. Many a strong man trembles when night has made him a small island in the ocean of darkness and the hooting owl is heard. But the man who is hunted learns that the most lonely place is the friendliest and that night isbetter than day. When I awoke from my first sleep in my new home, I was thirsty. The fire had burned down; in the gray ashes only a few red embers glowed. I rekindled the fire, but kept it burning low, for fear that the smoke, which streamed out of the small crevice in the rocks above the entrance, might lead my enemies to the cave. I took my bow and arrows and the earthen pot, and went in search of a spring. The Mountain of the Sun was much more barren than Thor's Mountain; little soil clung to its sides, and the trees were hardly more than bushes. I was long in finding a spring of clear water. My hunter's luck, however, was with me. In a tiny valley, I saw two hares busy eating. They were not as frightened as the hares that live near the 79 halls, and I was very close to them before I shot my arrow. One of the hares was pierced in the neck and died instantly, leaping only once and then lying still. The other hare looked with surprise at its comrade, but did not run away asI had expected. Quickly I took a second arrow from my quiver, and shot again. Being excited, my aim was faulty, and instead of hitting the forepart of the animal, my arrow lodged itself in one of the rear legs. With an arrow protruding from its leg, and blood trailing it, the hare ran away. I had only four arrows. The loss of one was serious to me; but more than this, I did not like the thought of the wounded animal dying a painful and slow death. I spent the rest of the day trailing the poor hare. Finally , I found it. The arrow had gotten caught between two branches, and the animal, having only one thought — to push forward — was trapped. A second arrow killed it, and I returned to the cave. I cleaned both hares and skinned one of them; its rear leg I pierced with a stick and broiled over the fire. The meat of the freshly killed hare is tough; it should hang several days before it is fit for a meal. But hunger made my teeth sharp. What concerned me most was that the spring was so far away, for my little pot could not hold a day's ration of water; but I gave no more than a few moments thought to this problem before I was deeply asleep. My fire and bedding lay near the opening of the cave. How far back the cave stretched, I did not know, but I was determined to find out. The next morning I 80 gathered more wood and built a second fire farther back. From its light I could see that, by an evernarrowing passage, the cave went deeper and deeper into the mountain. Returning to the entrance for more wood, I noticed that it was less smoky there than where my fire was. Excitedly I realized that this meant that there must be another exit to the cave for the smoke to disappear through. The wood was not dry enough to make decent torches. I had only walked a few steps when the flames died. I crawled to what I judged to be the end of the cave and built a third fire there. At this point the loft 81 of the cave was just above my head, and the smoke made my eyes water, but the mystery of where the smoke went was solved. In the light of the flames I saw a large hole — big enough for me to attempt to crawl into it. But the smoke was too heavy — my eyes were smarting. I retreated from the cave, out into the fresh air. I thought I might find a second entrance to my cave farther up the mountain, but I looked in vain for signs of smoke from the fires...