Transcriber's Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have
been retained as printed. Words printed in italics are noted with
underscores: _italics_.
[Illustration: "It was Rolf in his weapons"]
THE STORY OF ROLF
AND THE VIKING'S BOW
BY
ALLEN FRENCH
AUTHOR OF "THE JUNIOR CUP," "SIR MARROK," ETC.
ILLUSTRATED BY
BERNARD J. ROSENMEYER
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1918
_Copyright, 1904_,
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
_All rights reserved_
THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.
TO MY BROTHER
HOLLIS FRENCH
PREFACE
From thirty to sixty years ago appeared the greater number of the
English translations of the Icelandic sagas. Since then the reading of
these heroic tales has so completely gone out of style that their
names are rarely mentioned in schools or even colleges. What boy feels
his blood stir at the mention of Grettir? How many lovers of good
reading know that the most human of all epics lie untouched on the
shelves of the public libraries? The wisdom of Njal, the chivalry of
Gunnar, the villainy of Mord, the manhood of Kari, the savagery of
Viga-Glum, the craft of Snorri, and the fine qualities of Biarni, of
Biorn, of Skarphedinn, of Illugi, of Kolskegg, of Hrut, of
Blundketil--all these are forgotten in the curious turn of taste which
has made the stories of a wonderful people almost a lost literature.
For the Icelanders were a wonderful people. To escape the tyranny of
kings they settled a new land, and there built up the laws and customs
in which we see the promise of modern civilization. Few early peoples
had such a body of laws; few developed such manhood. No better
pictures of a law-abiding, rural, and yet valiant race have ever been
made than in the tales which the Icelanders had the skill to weave
about their heroes, those men who, at home in their island, or so far
abroad as Constantinople, made the name of Icelander respected.
We read of these men and this people in stories which, somewhat too
"old" for boys and girls, reveal the laws, customs, habits of a
thousand years ago. The Njal's Saga, the Grettir's Saga, the
Ere-Dwellers' Saga, and the Gisli's Saga are perhaps the greatest of
those which have been translated. They are reinforced by such shorter
pieces as Hen Thorir's Saga, and the Stories of the Banded Men, the
Heath-Slayings, Hraffnkell Frey's Priest, and Howard the Halt. The
spirit of those days is particularly well given in that wonderful
fragment of Thorstein Staffsmitten which (not being part of any
complete saga) has been drawn upon for the closing incidents of the
present story. Many other such incidents are preserved, a reference to
one of which (in a footnote to--I think--the Ere-Dwellers' Saga) gave
the suggestion for the main plot of this book. At the same time, in
contemporary writings, we may read of the life of other divisions of
the Scandinavian race; the story nearest to this book is the
Orkneyingers' Saga.
The main interest of all these tales is the same: they tell of real
men and women in real circumstances, and show them human in spite of
the legends which have grown about them. The sagas reveal the
characteristics of our branch of the Aryan race, especially the
personal courage which is so superior to that of the Greek and Latin
races, and which makes the Teutonic epics (whether the Niebelungen
Lied, the Morte Darthur, or the Njala) much more inspiring than the
Iliad, the Odyssey, or the Aeneid.
The prominence of law in almost every one of the Icelandic sagas has
been preserved in the following story; and the conditions of life,
whether at home or abroad, have been described as closely as was
possible within the limits of the simple narrative form which the
sagas customarily employed.
ALLEN FRENCH.
CONCORD, MASSACHUSETTS,
_May, 1904_.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter Page
I. Of the Lighting of the Beacon 1
II. Of the Soursops, and the Curse which Hung on Them 20
III. Kiartan at Cragness 28
IV. Of Einar and Ondott 42
V. The Summoning of Hiarandi 53
VI. Of what Hiarandi should do 59
VII. How Hiarandi received the Lesser Outlawry 64
VIII. Of Schemings 78
IX. Of the Outcome of Ondott's Plottings 91
X. How Rolf named Witnesses for the Death of Hiarandi 101
XI. Of Rolf's Search for One to Surpass Him with the Bow 109
XII. Of the Trial of Skill at Tongue 121
XIII. Of that Robber 129
XIV. How Rolf and Einar summoned each other 145
XV. Of Suits at the Althing 155
XVI. The Act of Distress 166
XVII. Rolf and Frodi fare abroad 175
XVIII. How those Two came into Thraldom 180
XIX. Now Men are Shipwrecked 192
XX. How Rolf won his Freedom 206
XXI. How Rolf won the Viking's Bow 230
XXII. Now Kiartan Returns 253
XXIII. Of the Coming of Earl Thorfinn 271
XXIV. Now Rolf and Grani Quarrel 279
XXV. Here Rolf comes to Cragness 295
XXVI. Of Grani's Pride 313
XXVII. Odd Doings at Cragness 335
XXVIII. Of that Harvest Feast 345
XXIX. Of the Trial of Grani's Pride 369
XXX. Of the Saying of those Two Words 385
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
"It was Rolf in his weapons" _Frontispiece_
"'Now Einar dies if my father is hurt'" _Page_ 58
"So tall was she that the vikings could not board her" " 184
"There he sat as if he were still alive, but there was
no sight in his eyes" " 224
"Grani took his sword and his shield, and they stood
up to fight by the spring" " 405
THE STORY OF ROLF
CHAPTER I
OF THE LIGHTING OF THE BEACON
In the time after Iceland had become Christian, and after the burning
of Njal, but before the deaths of Snorri the Priest and Grettir the
Outlaw, there lived at Cragness above Broadfirth a man named Hiarandi,
called the Unlucky. And well was he so named, for he got a poor
inheritance from his father, but he left a poorer to his son.
Now the farm of Cragness was a fertile fell, standing above the land
round about, and girt with crags. Below lay Broadfirth, great and
wide, and Cragness jutted out into it, a danger to ships. It had no
harbor, but a little cove among the rocks, where Hiarandi kept his
boat; and many ships were wrecked on the headland, bringing fortune to
the owners of Cragness, both in goods and firewood. And all the land
about once belonged to the farm. Rich, therefore, would have been the
dwellers at Cragness, but for the doings of Hiarandi's father.
He would always be striving at the law, and he was of ill judgment or
ill luck, for what he gained at the farm he always lost. The older he
grew, the more quarrelsome he became; and judgments heaped heavy on
him, until at last he was so hard put that he must sell all his
outlying lands. So the farm, from a wide estate, became only the land
of Cragness itself, and another holding of a few acres, lying inland
on the uplands, within sight of Cragness and the sea.
In the time when Hiarandi was young, Iceland was still heathen. He
sought his fortune in a trading voyage, and sailed West-over-the-Sea,
trading in the South Isles as a chapman, trafficking in goods of all
kinds. And he made money there, so that at last when he sailed again
for home he counted on a fair future. But the ship was wrecked in a
storm, and few of the men came ashore; and Hiarandi himself was saved
by means of a maid who dwelt at the place, who dragged him from the
surf. So Hiarandi came home on foot, his clothes in tatters, having
lost money rather than gained it. Then his father, whose losses
pressed heavy on him, struggled no more with the world, but went to
his bed and died. And in that summer when all Iceland took to the new
faith, Hiarandi became master at Cragness.
Hiarandi was a silent man, not neighborly, but hard-working. An
unworldly choice he made of a wife, for he took that woman who had
saved him from the waves; she was the daughter of a small farmer and
brought neither dowry nor kinship of any power. So men said that
Hiarandi had no wish to rise in the world. He lived upon his farm,
with two thralls and a bondservant; and husbanding his goods well, by
little and little he made money which he put out at call, and so bade
fair to do better than his father, for all his poor start in life. And
a loving spouse he had in Asdis, his wife, who one day bore him a son.
They named the lad Rolf, and he grew to be well knit; he was not
powerful, but straight and supple, and of great craft in his hands.
And from delight in the boy Hiarandi changed his ways, and became more
gay, going to fairs and meetings for the sake of Rolf. And Hiarandi
taught the lad all he knew of weapon-craft, which was not a little.
The lad was swift of foot; he was skilled in the use of the sword and
javelin, but most he delighted in the use of the bow.
And that was natural, for upon the cliffs sea-birds lived in
thousands, hard to catch. The boy went down to their nests with ropes,
and took eggs in their season, or the young before they could fly, and
both for food. So skilled was he in this that he was called Craggeir,
the Cragsman; and no man could surpass him, whether in daring or
skill. But there were times when there were no eggs nor fledglings,
and from his earliest boyhood Rolf practised in shooting with his bow
at the birds, and he kept the larder ever full.
Happy was Hiarandi watching his son, and his pride in him was great.
As the lad grew stronger, the father made for him stronger bows and
heavier arrows, until at the age of fourteen Rolf used the bow of a
man. Then one winter they went down together into the valley, father
and son, and watched the sports and games on the frozen mere.
There the men of the place played at ball, and great was the laughter
or deep was the feeling. Now Hiarandi would not let Rolf play, for
often matters came to blows, and he would not have his son maimed. But
when it came to shooting with the bow, Hiarandi put Rolf forward, and
it was seen who was the best at that play. For though the men shot,
Rolf surpassed them all, not in distance but in skill. He hit the
smallest mark at the greatest distance; and when Hiarandi brought a
pigeon and freed it, then Rolf brought it down. No one there had seen
such shooting. Then those who were not envious named the lad Rolf the
Bowman.
But a man named Einar stood by, and he lived on the land which
Hiarandi's father had sold. He was rich but covetous, and fond of
show, and fond of praise. There lived with him one named Ondott, an
Eastfirther who had left his district and come west, a man without
property. He stood with Einar and watched the games.
"See," said Einar, "how proud is Hiarandi of his son!"
"Thou hast a son as well," said Ondott. "How he will shine among these
churls when he returns from his fostering in the South Isles!"
"Aye," answered Einar. "Like an Earl will he be, and no farmer of
these parts will compare with him."
"And as for the shooting of this lad," remarked Ondott, "it is not so
fine after all."
"In the Orkneys," said Einar aloud, so that others should hear him,
"they are better bowmen than here, and the Earl will have my son
taught everything."
Now some who stood by brought Hiarandi this tale. "Have a care," said
they. "Thy neighbor Einar sets himself above thee."
"Then he must set himself high," answered Hiarandi with a laugh, "for
his land lies far lower than mine."
Then others carried that tale to Einar, and he laid it up in his mind;
but Hiarandi forgot all that had been said, nor did he remember to
tell of it to Asdis when they had returned from the games.
Then the winter passed on with severe storms, and ships were wrecked
on Cragness rocks, but no men reached shore. And Einar envied the more
the riches that came to Hiarandi from the wrecks, in firewood, timber,
and merchandise. And once a whale came ashore, and that was great
fortune. But one evening, as those at Cragness sat within the hall,
Asdis came and stood beside her husband, and said, "Listen to the
wind."
"There is no need to listen," said Hiarandi. "The wind howls for a
storm, and this night will be bad."
Then Thurid the bondservant, who sat by the fire, looked up and said,
"Ships are off the land."
"Hearest thou that?" asked Asdis in a low voice. "The woman is
strange, but she forecasts well."
"Aye," answered Hiarandi, "it is likely that ships will be on the
rocks by morning.
"Now," asked Asdis, "dost thou remember the time thou camest ashore,
these many years ago?"
"How should I forget it?" responded Hiarandi.
"But no one can rush into the water here," said Asdis, "to save those
who are wrecked."
"That is true," quoth Hiarandi. "I am sorry for the mariners, yet how
is one to help?"
Then the bondservant raised her head and sang this song:
"The sea brings money;
Money is bonny.
Bless then the sea
Which brings good to thee."
After that she sat silent and sunken as before.
"Hear the hag," said Asdis, shuddering. "But we prosper through the
misfortunes of others."
"What is to be done?" asked Hiarandi.
"It is in my mind," said Asdis, "that if we made a fire-beacon, people
could steer from shore and so into safe harbor farther up the firth."
"Now," quoth Hiarandi, "that might be done."
"Wilt thou do it?" asked Asdis.
Then the woman raised her head and sang again:
"He is a fool
Who leaves old rule.
Set heart 'gainst head.
How then butter thy bread?"
Then Hiarandi said to Asdis: "No man has ever yet set beacons against
shipwreck. All men agree to take the fortune of the sea; and what is
cast on a man's beaches, that is his by old custom."
"Thinkest thou that is right?" asked Asdis.
"Moreover," went on Hiarandi, "the sea is but giving me again what it
took away."
"Never can the sea," answered Asdis, "give thee true happiness through
other men's misfortunes."
"Remember the boy," said Hiarandi. "Shall I leave him with nothing to
begin the world with? For my own earnings bring me at most a mark of
silver in the year."
"For all that," replied Asdis, "it is in my mind that to do otherwise
were to do better. Now canst thou have the heart that men should die
longer on our rocks, and we not do our best to save them?"
Then Hiarandi, answering nothing, rose and paced up and down before
the fire. And the carline sang once more:
"Take what is given.
No man is wise
Who asketh twice
If earth or heaven
Sends him his prize."
But Asdis stood upright, and she sang:
"Suffer not wrong
To happen long,
Lest punishment
From heaven be sent."
Now in Iceland all men loved the singing of skalds; but though
Hiarandi had heard the carline sing many times before, never had he
heard rhymes from his wife. So he stood astonished.
Then the bondservant sang again:
"Ill will attend
The beacon's lighting.
Bad spirit's guiding
Will bring false friend."
But Asdis sang with great vehemence:
"Let God decide
What fate shall ride
Upon the wind.
Be thou not blind
To duty's hest.
My rede is best.
List to the storm!
Go! Save from harm
The mariner
Whose fate is near.
To others do
As I did once to you."
And it seemed to Hiarandi as if she commanded him. Moreover, as he
listened, the storm roared louder. Then he seized his cloak, and cried
to his thralls, "Up, and out with me to make a beacon!"
Though they dared not disobey, they grumbled, and they got their
cloaks slowly. For they saw slipping away from them the fine pickings
from the wreck, which brought them warm clothes and handsome. Out they
went with Hiarandi into the storm, and kindled a great fire at the
edge of the cliff. And Rolf toiled too; but Asdis did best of all, for
she brought out in a kettle great strips of whale's blubber, and flung
them on the fire. Then the flames flared high and wide, as bright as
day. And Rolf sprang to the edge of the cliffs and gazed upon the
water. Then, pointing, he cried, "Look!"
Down below was a ship; its sail flapped in rags, and the crew were
laboring mightily at the oars to save themselves, looking with dread
at the white breakers and the looming rocks. Now in the strength of
their fear they held the vessel where she was; and by the broad light
of the fire every man of them was visible to the Cragness-dwellers. To
Rolf that was a dreadful sight. But the bit of a sail was set, and men
ran to the steering-oar to hold the vessel stiff; and behold, she
moved forward, staggered past the rocks, made clearer water, and wore
slowly out into the firth. Even the thralls shouted at the sight.
Then Hiarandi left one of the thralls to keep the fire, and went back
to the hall with those others. There the carline still sat.
"So he is safe past the rocks?" she asked, yet speaking as if she
knew.
"Aye, safe," answered Hiarandi.
"Now," said she, "thou hast brought thy evil fortune on thyself, and
it will be hard to avoid the extreme of it."
"I care not," answered Hiarandi, "even though I suffer for a good
deed."
"Nevertheless," said the carline, "the future may be safe, though
without riches, if thou wilt be guided by me. Wilt thou follow my
redes?"
"No advices of thine do I follow," replied Hiarandi. "For methinks
thou still servest the old gods, and canst work witchcraft. Speak no
more of this matter in my house; and practise not thy sorcery before
my eyes, for the law gives death as punishment."
"Now," answered the woman, "like a foolish man, thou rushest on thy
fate. And I see clearly that thou art not he who was spoken of in the
prophecy. Not a fortunate Soursop art thou."
"Since the slaying of Kol, who put the curse on all our stock,"
answered Hiarandi, "has but one of the Soursops prospered. How then
should I be fortunate?"
"Two were to prosper," the woman replied. "And each was to put an end
to the curse in his branch of thy race. Snorri the Priest is one of
those two, as all men know. But thou art not the other; and I believe
that thou art doomed to fail, even as thy father was."
"So I have long believed," said Hiarandi calmly.
Then the carline rose, and her eyes were strange, as if they saw
beyond that upon which she looked. "More misfortune is coming than
thou deemest," she said. "Outlawry. Mayhap even death. Be warned!"
"Thou art a heathen and a witch," said her master. "Be still!"
But she said: "I will not abide the curse. Hiarandi, I have worked
long in thy house. Give me now my freedom and let me go."
"Thou hast long been free to go," he replied. "Take thy croaking to
another man's board! But this little prophecy I give to thee, that no
man will believe thine ill-speaking."
"No great foresight hast thou in that," she answered. "Never have I
been believed." Then she drew on her cloak and hooded her face.
"Thou wilt not go in the storm?" asked Asdis.
"All times are alike," the woman said. "Heed thou this, Hiarandi.
Beware the man who came in the ship thou didst save!"
"He is one," answered Hiarandi, "whom I fear not at all."
"Beware suits at law," said the carline again, and she turned to go.
"It needs no great wisdom to say that," retorted Hiarandi upon her.
"But stay! I send not people from my door penniless. Nothing is owing
from me to thee, yet I will give a piece of money."
"Soon," answered Thurid, "thou wilt need all thou hast." And she went
out into the night.