The mound was open.  There was a wide, brown scar, as of freshly-moved earth, across its base, reaching from the level to six or eight feet of its height, as though half the grass-grown side had been shorn away by a sword cut; and in the midst of that scar was a doorway, open to the grave’s heart, low and stone built.  Some of the earth that had fallen lay before it on the water’s edge, but the rest was doubtless in the water, for there was but a narrow path between bank and mound.

At that sight we stared, thinking we should surely see the grim form of Sigurd loom gigantic and troll-like {iii} across the doorway; and the jarl half rose from his seat beside me, and cried out with a great voice: 

“Sigurd—­my brother!”

I think he knew not what or why he cried thus, for he sank back into his place and swayed against me, while his cry rang loud among the hills, and the eagles answered it.

And I grasped my sword hilt, as one does in some sudden terror, staring at the open mound; while old Thord muttered spells against I know not what, and Kolgrim looked at me, pale and motionless.

Then came the sharp, mocking cry of a diver, that rang strangely; and at once, without order.  Thord dug his oar blade into the water and swung the boat round, and when once Kolgrim’s back was towards that he feared, he held water strongly and then the boat was about, and we were flying from the place towards the ships, before we knew what was being done, panic stricken.

But Einar said never a word, and the two rowers slackened their pace only when the bend of the firth hid the mound from our sight.

Then said I, finding that Einar spoke not: 

“What are we flying from? there was nought to harm us.”

For I began to be ashamed.  Thereat Kolgrim stopped rowing, and Thord must needs do likewise, though he said: 

“It is ill for us to stay here.  The dead jarl is very wroth.”

“I saw nought to fray us; the cry we heard was but that of a loon.”

But Thord shook his head.  The silence of the place had made all things seem strange, with the dull light that was over us, and the great heat among the towering hills.

“The mound was freshly opened,” he said.  “I saw earth crumbling even yet from the broken side.  The blow we felt was that which Sigurd struck when he broke free.”

Then at last Einar spoke, and his voice was strange: 

“I have left my brother unhonoured, and he is angry.  What must be done?”

Now I cannot tell what hardiness took hold of me, but it seemed that I must needs go back and see more of this.  I was drawn to do so, as a thing they fear will make some men long to face it and know its worst, not as if they dared so much as when they must.

“I think we should have waited to ask Sigurd that,” I said; and Einar looked strangely at me.

“Would you have us return?” he asked.