[Illustration—­The sacred hammer of the god Thor]

III

THE SHADOW OF THE THUNDER-OAK

III

Withered leaves still clung to the branches of the oak:  torn and faded banners of the departed summer.  The bright crimson of autumn had long since disappeared, bleached away by the storms and the cold.  But to-night these tattered remnants of glory were red again:  ancient bloodstains against the dark-blue sky.  For an immense fire had been kindled in front of the tree.  Tongues of ruddy flame, fountains of ruby sparks, ascended through the spreading limbs and flung a fierce illumination upward and around. ward and around.  The pale, pure moonlight that bathed the surrounding forests was quenched and eclipsed here.  Not a beam of it sifted down-ward through the branches of the oak.  It stood like a pillar of cloud between the still light of heaven and the crackling, flashing fire of earth.

But the fire itself was invisible to Winfried and his companions.  A great throng of people were gathered around it in a half-circle, their backs to the open glade, their faces towards the oak.  Seen against that glowing background, it was but the silhouette of a crowd, vague, black, formless, mysterious.

The travellers paused for a moment at the edge of the thicket, and took counsel together.

“It is the assembly of the tribe,” said one of the foresters, “the great night of the council.  I heard of it three days ago, as we passed through one of the villages.  All who swear by the old gods have been summoned.  They will sacrifice a steed to the god of war, and drink blood, and eat horse-flesh to make them strong.  It will be at the peril of our lives if we approach them.  At least we must hide the cross, if we would escape death.”

“Hide me no cross,” cried Winfried, lifting his staff, “for I have come to show it, and to make these blind folk see its power.  There is more to be done here to-night than the slaying of a steed, and a greater evil to be stayed than the shameful eating of meat sacrificed to idols.  I have seen it in a dream.  Here the cross must stand and be our rede.”

At his command the sledge was left in the border of the wood, with two of the men to guard it, and the rest of the company moved forward across the open ground.  They approached unnoticed, for all the multitude were looking intently towards the fire at the foot of the oak.

Then Winfried’s voice rang out, “Hail, ye sons of the forest!  A stranger claims the warmth of your fire in the winter night.”

Swiftly, and as with a single motion, a thousand eyes were bent upon the speaker.  The semicircle opened silently in the middle; Winfried entered with his followers; it closed again behind them.