CHAPTER VIII.
THE SCOUTING PARTY.
There was no large town at or near the mouth of the Humber. There werevillages along the coast, however, and the uplands on either shore weredotted with hamlets and cabins. There were also comfortable farmhousesand the half-fortified residences of the richer landholders. To allsorts of people, the fishermen had brought in early warning of thecoming of the Norway fleet. Time had been given for getting away andfor the removal of much property to places of comparative safety.Therefore, every house which the invaders had entered upon landing hadbeen found nearly empty, to the great disgust of the brave Vikings.
"Didst thou see the carts that went ashore from the ships?" askedFather Brian of his young friend. "The horses were fetched along topull them and not for riding. They will go out to gather all that'sleft, or there'll be a famine in the army."
"The king's orders are not to kill anybody that isn't fighting," saidNed. "Tostig lost his earldom by being cruel to the people. Now he isgoing to try and make himself popular."
"He will not do that," said Father Brian. "They know the hard hand heput on them. It's a pity, indeed, about the cattle and horses, my boy.I'm afraid we will get none. There is only one kind of cattle that theEnglish couldn't take with them."
"What's that?" asked Ned.
"It's the pigs," replied the good missionary. "Not one of them couldbe driven easily, and there will be fresh pork in camp. All the bighouses, too, have more or less bacon in them and dried fish. I willtalk no more, now. This is the place that Vebba hath chosen for oursleeping."
It was an open place among trees, well on in the advance but within thearmy outposts. No tents had been provided, and once more did Ned, theson of Webb, distinguish himself by the miraculous rapidity with whichhe kindled a camp-fire. He was likely to become a favourite with themen, if this was to go on, although Sikend the Berserker stared at himgloomily, and muttered something dangerous about killing wizards.
By that fire a great deal of cooking was done that evening, even Sikendbroiling his fresh pork as if he had no prejudices.
"That didn't come from any of the ships," remarked Ned, as he saw thesupplies of butcher meat, even of beef, brought in. "I suppose it iswhat army men call foraging, and it's another name for plundering. Ihope they didn't have to kill anybody, but that's what they want to domore than anything else."
The night was pleasant, but it was long before Ned could shut his eyes.Not that he could see anything with them at more than a few yards fromthe fires. The dull glare of these shone upon polished shields andarmour, here and there. He could see, too, the dim shapes of sentriesand patrols, standing still or walking to and fro. They did not oftenhave occasion to speak, and when they did so it was in the gruff andguarded tones of men on the watch for enemies.
The thing which, more than anything else, seemed to keep him awake, wasa continual dull roar which filled his ears and worried him.
"It isn't the roar of waves on the shore," he thought. "That may bepart of it, but I guess there is something more. I know now! It is thesound of the camp! It is the roar of the army. I remember, in New York,if a fellow gets up before daylight and looks out of a window it isall pretty still until he listens. Then he will hear something likethis, a good deal like the roar of a waterfall. Then, as the morninggoes along, the racket grows, with the carts and everything, till hegets so used to it that he can't hear it any longer. There are so manythousands of men here, and I shouldn't wonder if a good many of 'emwere snoring."
He could rest more quietly after he understood that mighty hum, but itwas not yet sunrise when he was awakened by a jerk of his left elbow.
"Get up, my boy," said the voice of Father Brian. "I've roused Lars.I have something for both of you. We will eat our breakfast at once,and then we'll be off. I have permission from Vebba to go out scoutingamong the heathen Saxons. It's fine!"
"Scouting!" exclaimed Ned, springing up and reaching for his mail. "Ofall things! I'm ready--I'm awfully hungry, too."
A breakfast of fresh pork broiled at the end of a stick, and nothing togo with it but water, may be prepared and eaten without much waste oftime. Neither Lars nor Ned felt like making a long affair of it, buthis Reverence was the first to throw away his broiling-stick.
"Come along now!" he exclaimed. "The beasts are tethered handy. Ipulled them out of a drove that was gathered by the men. We havebridles but no saddles, and I've ridden that way many a time inIreland, bless her! Not that these Mercia ponies are at all the equalof our Irish horses. The best in all the world can be found among thefarms around Clontarf."
In a minute or so more they and a tall Viking who was to go withthem were loosening the halters of four strong-looking but somewhatshort-legged horses. They were not properly to be called ponies, beinglarger and heavier than the shelties of Scotland or the small horses ofWales. They belonged to a peculiar breed which was at that time verynumerous in England. Not one of them objected to being mounted, and thefour scouts galloped away unchallenged by any sentinel.
"No man will hinder us," remarked Father Brian. "I think that Tostigthe Earl is wise. He gave out that all spies might come and go freely.He willed that the English earls should be told what's coming to them."
"I don't believe they will be scared very badly," replied Ned."Hardrada isn't going to win in that way. Everybody knows that theEnglish will fight."
The sun was rising now, and all the camps behind them were astir.More ships were reaching landing-places and more troops were comingon shore, but not by any means the whole of Hardrada's army was asyet in shape for a great battle. It would be well for him to advancewith great prudence until his full strength should be with him, and hewas doing so. The same kind of caution might have been well for theNorthumberland and Mercian earls, Edwin and Morcar, but they were evennow preparing to strike without waiting to gather sufficient forces.They had been unready and now they were hasty.
The country was beautiful. It did not seem to be densely peopled. Therewere many farms, however, which seemed to Ned to be under pretty goodcultivation. Empty, desolate, abandoned were all the dwellings pastwhich the scouts rode onward. There were no cattle to be seen in thefields.
"There hath been no burning, as yet," remarked the tall Viking. "Tostighath forbidden fire, to the great discontent of many. Of what goodindeed is war if we are not to burn and slay? It is but little betterthan peace."
"O thou Leif, the son of Beo," broke in Father Brian, angrily, "ifthou art in the advance on the morrow, or the next day, I think theheathen Saxons will show thee war enough."
"Woden be praised for that!" exclaimed the Viking. "I think they will.The Valkyrias will come for many. I shall die no cow's death. I wouldthat Thor and his hammer and all the hero gods of the North might comeand fight for King Harold of Norway."
"Hear him!" muttered the good missionary. "And men like him callthemselves Christians! I would as soon be an Englishman!"
"The English are not heathens," said Ned, the son of Webb. "Alfred theGreat was the best kind of man."
"No doubt," said Father Brian, "and a bad lot he had to deal with.He was helped much by the right sort of educated missionaries fromIreland,--men, like myself, that could read and write. I am glad, myboy, to be here now and carry on the good work. Hark! What's that?Ride fast, all! There is evil ahead. Hear that shrieking of women!"
A little beyond them was a sharp turn in the narrow road they werefollowing, and on either side were dense woods. Forward dashed the fourhorsemen, headed by the now excited missionary, and they all drew reinto reconnoitre the situation as soon as they had galloped around theturn.
Here was a sight to see, indeed! The land beyond, at the right, wasunder cultivation, cut up into enclosures of various sizes. There weremany cabins, and out of the hamlet composed of them led other roads.Some distance back from the middle of the hamlet was an ancient-lookingtimber-built manse or large farmhouse, and around this was a prettystrong stockade, bordered by a deep ditch. This was the local f
ort,into which all the near neighbours were expected to run for safety incase of sudden peril. That they had at the present time done so wasevident, for it was from within the stockade that the shrieks and crieswere arising.
"There are none of them hurt yet, I trust," said Father Brian. "Lookat them, though! The wolves of Norway! They are putting fire to thestockade, to burn a hole in it. They are swearing to slay every soulfor only shutting the gate against them."
"I am glad they were slow in their fire making," said Ned. "That wasflint and steel work. It's a good thing they didn't have any parlourmatches. One cartridge of dynamite, though, would blow that stockadeevery which way--or a can of powder."
"Ned, the son of Webb," shouted Father Brian, "thou art Tostig's man.The poor folk in the fort belong to his earldom. Ride in with me, now,and bid those Vikings that they must obey the earl and the king!"
"They may listen," growled Leif, the son of Beo, "or they may slay usall for interfering. I have split a man's head, myself, for less thanthat. Ride on!"
Ned felt all his pulses tingling as he urged onward his horse, for thescreams of terror were increasing, and well they might. Several of theangry marauders assailing the stockade were chopping at it furiouslywith their battle-axes, and there was no doubt but what they wouldshortly cut their way in.
He shouted loudly, but the Vikings did not seem to hear or heed him,and almost before he knew it he was at the little bridge across themoat in front of the great gate of the stockade. This bridge shouldhave been removed long since by the garrison, but for some reasonor other it had stuck fast, rendering the ditch of small account asa defence. Down to the ground sprang Father Brian, at that moment,pole-ax in hand, and down dropped Ned, while Lars and Leif, the son ofBeo, bravely followed them. Here, therefore, stood the four scouts,like heroes, with their backs to the gate. This was massively made, ofoaken planks, fastened with iron spikes, and was likely to withstandmuch chopping. As yet, it appeared that no blood had been shed oneither side, but there could be no doubt but what the Saxons or Angles,or whatever they were, would sell their lives dearly.
"The Vikings don't seem to care a straw for anything I've said,"groaned Ned. "I don't suppose they take scalps, but they'll kill womenand children as if they were so many Sioux Indians. I suppose theEnglish would be just as cruel, if they had a chance. I wish the worldwere civilised."
"Come on, ye wolves of Norway," roared the valiant priest, at his side."But I bid ye hold your hands. By the order of Harold the King andTostig the Earl! Ye will have to slay us four ere ye break in to murderthe people of the earl."
One who seemed a chief among the Vikings paused only to blow a strongblast on his war-horn, and then he came angrily forward toward Brian.
"I know thee not," he said. "Thou art an outlander and a saga man,but I know thy companions. That youth is a son of my friend Vebba, ofNordensfiord. With him is Vebba's house-carle. The boy with a strangetongue I know to be a lithsman of Tostig the Earl. Were we to slay him,we were but lost men. The orders are hard, but I will obey them, onlythat we will make prize of all casks of ale and of whatever is fit toeat. Blood we will not shed."
"To that we all give assent," shouted a man's voice from within thestockade. "Upon that pledge we will open the gate. We belong to Tostigthe Earl, and therefore we did not flee at his coming."
"We will keep faith with you," responded the Viking leader. "Ned, theson of Webb, hath the right in this matter. He doeth well to protectthe people of his earl. I approve him. Open the gate!"
Open it swung, and those who were within waited fearlessly, for all theNorthmen could be trusted to do no unnecessary murder after they hadplighted faith with friend or foe.
"Go not in," whispered Father Brian to Ned. "The people are safer thanthou art, and there are black looks sent at thee. Thou hast robbedwolves of their prey, and they will bite thee if they may."
There came a sound of galloping hoofs around the turn in the road, asNed and his friends were getting upon their horses. In a minute more,all the open spaces of the hamlet swarmed with armed riders, and therearose a shout of "Tostig the Earl!"
Forward rode Father Brian, while Leif, the son of Beo, restrained theothers.
"Let him report for us," he said. "I like not to have speech with thatblack-haired son of Earl Godwin. He smiteth suddenly when his spear isin his hand, and none may account with him."
They saw the haughty and cruel earl draw his rein, face to face withthe missionary, and all could hear the loud, clear tones of thequestions and answers which followed. Brief enough were these, andTostig seemed to be in a fairly good state of mind.
"It is well," he said. "Ned, the son of Webb, hath guarded his father'sneighbours. I blame him not, but let him beware how he interferethtoo much. I have many a head to strike off in this rebelliousNorthumberland. I will spare not one of those who drove me out."
Well was it understood that his proud heart was full of revenge, andthat his return as a victor would bring woe to many. At this point,nevertheless, the squadron of horsemen halted, drawing away from theroadside as if waiting.
"We have done our duty," said Father Brian to Leif. "Had we not stayedthat slaughter, there had been sharp vengeance taken."
"The men may thank the son of Webb and thee," said Leif. "So maythe Angles, for else they were all dead ere this. There cometh thevanguard! There will be a battle this day."
"It cometh shortly," said the missionary. "It is but nine miles fromthe river to the city gates. The king will strike before Morcar andEdwin have time to gather more forces."
"We will go on with them," said Ned. "I would not miss seeing thatbattle for anything. That's what I came for."
"Keep well behind the foremost lines, then," said his reverend friend."Serve Tostig, if thou wilt, but strike not any of thine own people.York is thy city, and thou wilt be back in it before many hours."
"Hurrah for that!" exclaimed Ned. "I want a good look at it as it isnow."
Thousand after thousand, the host of Hardrada pressed forward. Othercolumns of the invaders were advancing by other roads and across thefields and through the woods. There would be enough of them to make astrong front at any place where the men of Northumberland might meetthem. Not with the vanguard, but between two solid bodies of Northernspearmen, did Ned, the son of Webb, and his three friends push forwardtoward the first great battle that was to be fought in England byHardrada, the Sea King, and his terrible army.
Ned, the son of Webb: What he did. Page 8