In a few moments the full brightness of the campfire burst upon him. He saw people scurrying about; but one small, valiant figure caught his eye and warmed his heart. It was Bergel, standing in the firelight, the long saeter horn at her lips. She blew a blast that Arne felt must be heard clear down at Nordheim, and he almost felt like giving her a hug. Instead he skied silently to her side and stood there grinning. “Calling someone, Bergel?” he asked.