"Edmond Hamilton - The Monsters of Juntonheim" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hamilton Edmond)

Those letters are in my own language, sir.

Nonsense, I said sharply. I know Norwegian pretty well. Those letters are not in your language.

Not the one my people write today, Halsen explained, but the old Norse the rune writing. I have seen
such writing on old stones in the museum at Oslo.

Norse runes? I blurted. Then this must be damned ancient.

Let's take it down to Dubman, Bray suggested. He ought to be able to tell us.

Dubman, the waspish little archaeologist of the expedition, looked up in annoyance from his collection of
Eskimo arrowheads when we entered. Angrily he took the cylinder and glared at it. Instantly his eyes lit
up behind the thick spectacles.


Old Norse! he exclaimed. But these are runes of the most ancient form pre-Valdstenan! What is it?

Maybe the runes on it can give us a clue, I said eagerly.


I'll soon find out what they mean, Dubman declared.


With a magnifying glass, he began to examine the symbols graven on the golden cylinder. Bray and I
waited. I felt queerly taut. I could not understand just why I was so excited about this find, but
everything about it had been queer. A persistent inner voice had kept telling me: Make Bray let down
his trawl here! And the first time it was lowered, it had brought up a gold tube that must have lain on the
sea-floor for centuries.
 Got it! Dubman stated, looking up. This thing is old, all right the most ancient form of runic. The
translation doesn't tell much. Listen to this


Rune key am I,


Chaining dark evil,


Midgard snake, Fenris,


And Loki, arch-devil.


While I lie far,


The Aesir safe are,