Identifier: frithjofvikingof001835 (find matches)
Title: Frithjof, the viking of Norway : and Roland, the paladin of France
Year: 1899 (1890s)
Authors: 1835-1924 1782-1846
Subjects:
Publisher: New York London : G. P. Putnam's sons
Contributing Library: New York Public Library
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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ot be devoured by dogs, wild boars, andwolves. Sound, then, your Olifant, I say. ^i^ Roland And you say well, replied Roland. Forthwith, setting the horn to his lips,he sounded on it a blast, full and long,with all his gathered breath. So power-ful was the blast that Charles heard it,doubled by the echo beyond the moun-tains, some thirty leagues away. NorCharles alone; the whole army heard,and marvelled. Our men are fighting, said the King.But Ganelon quickly cut him short : Did anyone but you say such a thing,he would be called a liar. Once again, with anguish and greatpain, Roland sounded his Olifant. Thecrimson blood spurted from his mouth withthe strain. But the blast went far beyondthe pass, where the French army was rid-ing leisurely along. Charles heard it,and Duke Naimes, and all stopped tolisten. And again the King said : That was Rolands horn. He neverwould sound it, were he not hard pressedin battle. There is no battle, Ganelon insistedpeevishly. You are old, your locks are
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ROLANDS DEATH-BLAST ON THE OLIFANT. The Olifant 213 scant and white, and you speak the wordsof a child. You know full well Rolandsexceeding pride—Roland the strong, thegreat, the marvellous ! Truly, it is a won-der that God tolerates him so long. Fora hare he will blow his horn all day.Surely, he is having some fun with thePeers. Besides, who would dare attackhim ? Ride on, I say. Why should youhalt ? The country before us is vast, andthe road is long. A third time Roland sounds his Oli-fant. His mouth is all bloody, a blood-vessel bursts in his temple with thedesperate strain. All hear it this time—there is no room for doubt. * That horn has a tremendous force !said the King. T is Roland ! cried Duke Naimes ; Roland in the throes of death ! On mysoul, there is a battle, and somebody hasbetrayed him—and that somebody is hewho is dissembling and trying to keepyou here. Arm you, Sir King! Call outyour battle-cry ! Haste to the rescue, fort is Rolands plaint you hear. 214 Roland At

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