Grettir said that he should like that very well. But Thorkel said, "Yet I hope, Grettir, that thou wilt do this for my sake, not to do aught against Biorn while ye are with me."

"That shall be," said Grettir.

Biorn said he would walk fearless of Grettir wheresoever they might meet.

Grettir smiled mockingly, but would not take boot for Biorn. So they were here that winter through.

THE SONG OF ROREK.

BY JOHN WILLIAM WEIDEMEYER.

"TWAS on the night of Michaelmas that lordly Orloff's heir Wed with the noble Russian maid, Dimitry's daughter fair.

With mirth and song, and love and wine, that was a royal day; The banners streamed, the halls were hung in black and gold array.

The Twelve Apostles stood in brass, each with a flambeau bright, To blaze with holy altar sheen throughout the festive night.

The rings were changed, the tabor rolled, the Kyrie was said; The boyard father drew his sword, and pierced the loaf of bread.

Soon as the priest did drain his cup, and put his pipe aside,
He wiped his lip upon his sleeve, and kissed the blushing bride.

That very night to Novgorod must hasten bride and heir,
And Count Dimitry bade them well with robe and bell prepare.

And when from feast and wedding guest they parted at the door, He bade two hunters ride behind, two hunters ride before.

"Look to your carbines, men," he called, "and gird your ready knives!"

With one accord they all replied, "We pledge thee with our lives!'

I was the haiduk of that night, and vowed, by horses fleet,

Our sleigh must shoot with arrow speed behind the coursers' feet.

We journeyed speedy, werst by werst, with bell and song and glee, And I, upon my postal horn, blew many a melody.

I blew farewell to Minka mine, and bade the strain retire
Where she sat winding flaxen thread beside the kitchen fire.

We rode, and rode, by hollow pass, by glen and mountain side,
And with each bell soft accents fell from lips of bonny bride.

The night was drear, the night was chill, the night was lone and bright;

Before us streamed the polar rays in green and golden light.

The gypsy thieves were in their dens; the owl moaned in the trees; The windmill circled merrily, obedient to the breeze.

Shrill piped the blast in birchen boughs, and mocked the snowy shroud;

Thrice ran a hare across our track; thrice croaked a raven loud.

The horses pawed the frigid sands, and drove them with the wind; We left the village gallows tree full thirty wersts behind.

We rode, and rode, by forest shade, by brake and riverside;
And as we rode I heard the kiss of groom and bonny bride.

I heard again,-a boding strain; I heard it all too well;
A neigh, a shout, a groan, a howl, — then heavy curses fell.

Our horses pricked their wary ears and bounded with affright;
From forest kennels picket wolves were baying in the night.

"Haiduk, haiduk, — the lash, the steeds, the wolves!" the lady cried;

The wily baron clutched his blade, and murmured to the bride:

"This all is but a moonlight hunt: the starveling hounds shall bleed,

And you shall be the tourney's queen, to crown the gallant deed!"

The moon it crept behind a cloud, as covered by a storm;
And the gray cloud became a wolf, a monster wolf in form.

"Gramercy, Mother of our Lord, - gramercy in our needs!" Hold well together hand and thong, hold well, ye sturdy steeds!

Like unto Tartar cavalry the wolf battalion sped;

Ungunned, unspurred, but well to horse, and sharpened well to head.

The pine stood by, the stars looked on, and listless fell the snow; The breeze made merry with the trees, nor heeded wolf nor woe.

Now cracked the carbines, bleeding beasts were rolling here and there;

"Twas flash and shot and howl, and yet the wolves were every

where.

No more they mustered in our wake, their legion ranged beside. 'Twas steed for speed, and wolf for steed, and wolf for lord and bride.

In vain I cited Christian saints, I called Mahomet near:

Methought, though all the saints did fail, the prophet would appear.

A moment, and pursuit is stayed, - they tear their wounded kind; A moment, - then the hellish pack did follow close behind.

The baron silent rose amain, by danger unappalled.

"Strive for your lives, with guns and knives," the mounted guardsmen called.

The lady muttered agony, with crucifix and beads;

The wolves were snapping by her side, and leaping at our steeds.

My limbs were numb, my senses dumb, nor reason held its place; I fell beneath two glaring orbs, within a gaunt embrace.

I roused to hear a volley fired, to hear a martial shout;
And when I oped my stricken eyes the wolves were all to rout.

A hundred scouting Cossacks met and slew the deadly foe; Fourscore of wolves in throes of death lay bleeding in the snow.

Our lady rested in a swoon, our lord was stained with gore;
But none could tell of what befell the trusty hunters four.

ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH.

Related by Himself.

[CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH, English colonist and author, was born at Willoughby, Lincolnshire, January, 1579; saw active military service in the Netherlands; and while fighting against the Turks in the Hungarian army was captured and sold into slavery. He succeeded in making his escape, and in 1606 joined an expedition for the colonization of Virginia. While on a voyage up the James River he was taken captive by Indians, and only saved from death by the pleading of Pocahontas, the beautiful daughter of the Indian chieftain Powhatan. Smith afterwards explored Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries; was elected president of the Colonial Council, and went back to London about 1609. The remainder of his life was spent in vain endeavors to procure financial support for the establishment of a colony in New England. He died in London, June 21, 1632. Among his writings are: “A True Relation," "A Description of New England,” “General History of Virginia,” and “True Travels.”]

THE BATTELL OF ROTENTON; A PRETTY STRATAGEM OF FIREWORKES BY SMITH.

RODOLL not knowing how to draw the enemie to battell, raised his Armie, burning and spoyling all where he came, and returned againe towards Rebrinke in the night; as if he had fled upon the generall rumour of the Crym-Tartars coming, which so inflamed the Turkes of a happy victory, they urged Jeremy against his will to follow them. Rodoll seeing his plot fell out as he desired, so ordered the matter, that having regained the streights, he put his Army in order, that had beene neere two dayes pursued, with continuall skirmishes in his Reare, which now making head against the enemie, that followed with their whole Armie in the best manner they could, was furiously charged with six thousand Hydukes, Wallachians, and Moldavians, led by three Colonells, Oversall, Dubras, and Caleb, to entertaine the time till the rest came up; Veltus and

Nederspolt with their Regiments entertained them with the like courage, till the Zanzacke Hammesbeg, with six thousand more, came with a fresh charge, which Meldritch and Budemdorfe, rather like enraged lions than men, so bravely encountred, as if in them only had consisted the victory; Meldritchs horse being slaine under him the Turks pressed what they could to have taken him prisoner, but being remounted, it was thought with his owne hand he slew the valiant Zanzacke, whereupon his troopes retyring, the two proud Bashawes, Aladin and Zizimmus, brought up the front of the body of their battell. Veltus and Nederspolt having breathed, and joyning their troopes with Becklefield and Zarvana, with such an incredible courage charged the left flancke of Zizimmus, as put them all in disorder, where Zizimmus the Bashaw was taken prisoner, but died presently upon his wounds. Ieremie seeing now the maine battell of Rodoll advance, being thus constrained, like a valiant Prince in his front of the Vantgard, by his example so brauely encouraged his souldiers, that Rodoll found no great assurance of the victorie. Thus being joyned in this bloudy massacre, that there was scarce ground to stand upon, but upon the dead carkasses, which in lesse than an hower were so mingled, as if each Regiment had singled out other. The admired Aladin that day did leave behinde him a glorious name for his valour, whose death many of his enemies did lament after the victory, which at that instant fell to Rodoll. It was reported Ieremie was also slaine, but it was not so, but fled with the remainder of his Armie to Moldavia, leaving five and twenty thousand dead in the field, of both Armies. And thus Rodoll was seated againe in his Soueraignty, and Wallachia became subject to the Emperour.

But long he rested not to settle his new estate, but there came newes that certaine Regiments of stragling Tartars were foraging those parts towards Moldavia. Meldritch with thirteene thousand men was sent against them, but when they heard it was the Crym-Tartar and sonnes, with an Army of thirty thousand; and Ieremie, that had escaped with fourteene or fifteen thousand, lay in ambush for them about Langanaw, he retired towards Rottenton, a strong garrison for Rodoll; but they were so environed with these hellish numbers, they could make no great haste for skirmishing with their scouts, forragers, and small parties that still encountred them. But one night amongst the rest, having made passage through a wood,