They dragged the scald and me to the fire, and I saw into what hands we had fallen, and I will say that I was fairly afraid.  For these were no thrifty Cornish folk, but wild-looking men, black haired and bearded, clad in skins of wolf, and badger, and deer, and sheep, with savage-eyed faces, and rough weapons of rusted iron and bronze and stone.  So strange were their looks and terrible in the red light of the great fire, that I cried to Harek: 

“These be trolls, scald!  Sing the verses that have power to scare them.”

Now it says much for Harek’s courage that at once he lifted up no trembling voice and sang lustily, roaring verses old as Odin himself, such as no troll can abide within hearing of, so that those who bore him fell back amazed, and stared at him.  Then I saw that on the arms and necks of one or two of these weird folk were golden rings flashing, and I saw, too, that our poor greyhounds lay dead near where I was, and I feared the more for ourselves.

But they did not melt away or fly before the spells that Harek hurled at them.

“These be mortal men,” he said at last, “else had they fled ere now.”

By this time they had left me, helpless as a log, and were standing round us in a sort of ring, talking together of slaying us, as I thought.  I mind that the flint-tipped spears seemed cruel weapons.  At last one of them said somewhat that pleased the rest, for they broke into a great laugh and clapped their hands.

“Here is a word I can understand,” said Harek, “and that is ‘pixies.’”

But I was looking to see where our swords were, and I saw a man take them beyond the fire and set them on what seemed a bank, some yards from it.  Then they went to the scald and began to loosen his bonds, laughing the while.

“Have a care, Harek,” I cried.  “Make a rush for the swords beyond the fire so soon as you are free.”

“I am likely to be hove into the said fire,” said the scald, very coolly.  “Howbeit I see the place where they are.”

Then he gave a great bound and shout:  but the numbers round him were too great, and they had him down again, and yet he struggled.  This was sport to these savages, and those who were not wrestling with him leaped and yelled with delight to see it.  And I wrestled and tore at my bonds; but they were of rawhide, and I could do nothing.

Then Harek said, breathing heavily: 

“No good; their arms are like steel about me.”

Then some came and dragged me back a little, and set me up sitting against a great stone, so I could see all that went on.  Now I counted fifty men, and there were no women that I could see anywhere.  Half of these were making a great ring with joined hands round the fire, and some piled more fuel on it—­turf and branches of dwarf oak trees—­and others sat round, watching the dozen or so that minded Harek.  One sat cross-legged near me, with a great pot covered tightly with skin held between his knees.