While they were deliberating what they should do, a beautiful girl, poorly clad, but immaculately clean, entered the hut; and the old woman, addressing her as Krake (Crow), bade her see what the strangers wanted.  They told her, and admiringly watched her as she deftly fashioned the dough into loaves and slipped them into the hot oven.  She bade the sailors watch them closely, lest they should burn; but these men forgot all about their loaves to gaze upon her as she flitted about the house, and the result was that their bread was badly burned.

When they returned to the vessel, Ragnar Lodbrok reproved them severely for their carelessness, until the men, to justify themselves, began describing the maiden Krake in such glowing terms that the chief finally expressed a desire to see her.  With the view of testing her wit and intelligence, as well as her beauty, Ragnar sent a message bidding her appear before him neither naked nor clad, neither alone nor unaccompanied, neither fasting nor yet having partaken of any food.

This singular message was punctually delivered, and Krake, who was as clever as beautiful, soon presented herself, with a fish net wound several times around her graceful form, her sheep dog beside her, and the odor of the leek she had bitten into still hovering over her ruby lips.

Ragnar, charmed by her ingenuity no less than by her extreme beauty, then and there proposed to marry her.  But Krake, who was not to be so lightly won, declared that he must first prove the depth of his affection by remaining constant to her for one whole year, at the end of which time she would marry him if he still cared to claim her hand.

[Sidenote:  Marriage of Ragnar and Krake.] The year passed by; Ragnar returned to renew his suit, and Krake, satisfied that she had inspired no momentary passion, forsook the aged couple and accompanied the great viking to Hledra, where she became queen of Denmark.  She bore Ragnar four sons—­Ivar, Bjoern, Hvitserk, and Rogenwald,—­who from earliest infancy longed to emulate the prowess of their father, Ragnar, and of their step-brothers, Erik and Agnar, who even in their youth were already great vikings.

The Danes, however, had never fully approved of Ragnar’s last marriage, and murmured frequently because they were obliged to obey a lowborn queen, and one who bore the vulgar name of Krake.  Little by little these murmurs grew louder, and finally they came to Ragnar’s ears while he was visiting Eystein, King of Svithiod (Sweden).  Craftily his courtiers went to work, and finally prevailed upon him to sue for the princess’s hand.  He did so, and left Sweden promising to divorce Krake when he reached home, and to return as soon as possible to claim his bride.

As Ragnar entered the palace at Hledra, Krake came, as usual, to meet him.  His conscience smote him, and he answered all her tender inquiries so roughly that she suddenly turned and asked him why he had made arrangements to divorce her and take a new wife.  Surprised at her knowledge, for he fancied the matter still a secret, Ragnar Lodbrok asked who had told her.  Thereupon Krake explained that, feeling anxious about him, she had sent her pet magpies after him, and that the birds had come home and revealed all.