Explore "The Legend of Reor" by Selma Lagerlof on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was a man called Reor. He was from Fuglekarr in the parish of Svarteborg, and was considered the best shot in the county. He was baptized when King Olof rooted out the old belief, and was ever afterwards an eager Christian. He was freeborn, but poor; handsome, but not tall; strong, but gentle. He tamed young horses with but a look and a word, and could lure birds to him with a call. He dwelt mostly in the woods, and nature had great power over him. The growing of the plants and the budding of the trees, the play of the hares in the forest's open places and the fish's leap in the calm lake at evening, the conflict of the seasons and the changes of the weather, these were the chief events in his life. Sorrow and joy he found in such things and not in that which happened among men.
One day the skilful hunter met deep in the thickest forest an old bear and killed him with a single shot. The great arrow's sharp point pierced the mighty heart, and he fell dead at the hunter's feet. It was summer, and the bear's pelt was neither close nor even, still the archer drew it off, rolled it together into a hard bundle, and went on with the bearskin on his back.