There are timeless heroes whose stories survive the passing of civilizations and the millenia. Beowulf is one such, known by the scholars of Europe, the wise men of the East, and even into the deepest of backwoods, and those who live there -- even those not of humankind? |
"Finish the story, uncle Bert! Please finish it!" the young'uns piped up. Uncle Bert stirred the fire, and sighed. "Well, so's I will, but then bedtime!" "So, the big Swedes wander into Hrothgar's mead hall, and the biggest one -- his name was Beowulf -- he says, 'I hear you gots yourself a monster gobblin' up your kinfolk. And it just so happens I kills monsters.' Well old Hrothgar is happy for any help, and he gives the Swedes a real whuppin' feast." "Now that night, as the Swedes are layin' around in the feast hall, Beowulf, he hear's something a-creeping around outside. And as he goes waking the others, suddenly the big doors get torn right out! And grendel, he's lurkin' there, all pantin' and droolin', with claws this long--" "And Bee-Wolf rips his ARMS off!" squeaked little Baffin. "Now don't go ruinin' the story," said Bert. "Well, the Swedes and grendel laid into each other hammer and tongs..." |
