Then Kuggson told Grettir

*The Story of Bottle-Back*

"You know very surely, Grettir, that your great-grandfather was Onund

Treefoot. He was so called because in the great battle of Haf's fiord,

fought against King Harald, he had one of his legs cut off below the

knee. You have been told how that Onund had first to wife Asa, and that

he settled at Cold-back; and he had by his first wife two sons, Thorgeir

and Ufeig, who was also called Grettir, and it is after him that you are

named. Onund's second wife was the mother of Thorgrim Grizzlepate, your

grandfather.

"The story I am going to tell you relates to Thorgeir, the eldest son of

Onund, and how he got the name of Bottle-back. You might think he

acquired the designation from a rounded back. It was not so, he had a

back as straight as yours.

"But to understand the story of how he got the name, I must go back to

the time when Onund, your great-grandfather, came to Iceland. That was

in the year of Christ 900; he was unable to remain any longer in Norway,

because the king, Harald, was in such enmity with him. So he resolved

that he would come to Iceland and seek there a new home. Now this was

somewhat late, for the colonization of this island had begun some five

or six and twenty years before, and there had come out great numbers of

Norwegian chiefs, who fled from the rapacity and the vengeance of King

Harald Fairhair, who outlawed every man who took up arms against him."

But the story shall be told not in Kuggson's words, but in mine.

Onund sailed to Iceland from Norway in the summer of A.D. 900, and he

had a hard voyage and baffling winds from the south that drove him far

away to the north into the Polar Sea, till he came near the pack-ice;

and then there came a change, and he made south, and after much beating

about, for he had lost his reckoning, he made land, and found that he

had come upon the north coast of Iceland, and those who knew the looks

of the land said he was off the Strand Bay. To the west rose the rocks

and glaciers of the Drang Jokull, and to the east the long promontory

that separated the Hunafloi from Skagafiord.

Presently a ten-oared boat put off from shore, rowed by six men, and

approached Onund's vessel, and the men in the boat hailed the vessel and

asked whose it was. Onund gave his name and inquired to whom the men

belonged. They said they were servant men belonging to a farm at

Drangar, just under the mighty field of glacier of Drang Jokull. Onund

asked if all the land was taken up by settlers, and the men answered

that along the north coast all such land as was worth anything was taken

already, and that most was also settled to the south.

Then Onund consulted with his shipmates what was to be done, whether

coast along the north protuberance of Iceland in search of uninhabited

land, or go into the great bay and see whether any chance opened for

them there. They had arrived so late in Iceland after the main rush of

settlers that they could not expect to get any really favourable

quarters. The men advised against exploring the north, exposed to the

cold gales from the Polar Sea, where the fiords would be blocked with

ice half the year; and thought there would be no harm trying what they

could find further south.

So Onund turned his vessel in towards the head of the splendid bay

Hunafloi; but seeing a creek that seemed fairly sheltered, having on the

north some quaint spikes of rock, and a great mountain to the south like

a horn, and finding that this fiord gave a turn northwards under the

shelter of the mountains, the men with Onund's consent ran in there, and

having anchored the vessel, entered a boat and rowed ashore. On

reaching the strand they were met by men who asked them who they were

and what they did there. Onund said he had come with peaceable

intentions, and then he was told that all that fiord was occupied, and

that the owner of the land was Eric Trap, a wealthy man. Eric came to

the beach and hospitably invited Onund and his ship's crew to his house.

There Onund told him his difficulty. He had come to Iceland too late,

and he feared that he would be able nowhere to find unclaimed lands.

Eric considered a while, and then said there was more land that he had

claimed than he could well keep in hand, and that he would be pleased to

accommodate a man of such noble family and character as was Onund.

Onund pressed him to receive payment for the land, but this Eric

generously refused. When he had come there, said Eric, the country had

been unpeopled, and he had just claimed what he liked, and had claimed

more than he wanted. Now he desired to have neighbours, and if Onund

would be friendly none would be better pleased than himself to have him

near.

This gratifying offer satisfied Onund, but, as the saying is, 'Don't

look a gift-horse in the mouth,' he did not at once close with the

offer, but asked to be allowed to see the land Eric was so ready to part

with.

Accordingly he rode with Eric along the coast, passed the headland where

was the horn-shaped mountain, and came upon a fiord where some boiling

springs poured up in the sea out of its depths; the mountains on the

north came down so abruptly to the water's edge that the only habitable

ground lay at the head of the firth and on the south side, having a

northern aspect. Moreover there was a lofty range to the south, so that

in winter the sun would never light up this firth. Onund did not much

like it, he thought that Eric had offered him the place because he did

not care for it himself; so he went across the mountain range and down

into the little bay south of it. As they rode it was over snow, a long

descent of wintry mountain, till they reached a valley in which was a

hot spring, a little lake, and some grass. The situation was somewhat

more inviting than that Onund had already seen, but it was not very

attractive, and looking back on the long dreary slope of snow he said,

"A cold back! a cold back! I would like to have had one warmer." "That

is not easily acquired," answered Eric. "Further south there is no

fiord for many miles till you come to one occupied by a man called

Biarni. That I can tell you is a fertile settlement, there are woods

and pastures, and hot springs and good anchorage; but that is not my

land to give you."

Then Onund sang a stave:

"All across life's strands do run,

I who many war-wagers won,

Meadows green and pastures fair

Once were mine, and woods to spare.

Left behind, I rid the steed

That o'er wave, with wind doth speed.[#]

Cold--cold, icy back behind,

This is what alone I find,

Hard the lot that fate doth yield

To the bearer of the shield."

[#] _i.e._ a ship.

Eric answered, "Many men have lost everything in Norway, and have got

nothing in exchange. Cold may be the back against which to lean; but

better cold back than none at all."

This was true. Onund had not received Eric's offer graciously; but he

now accepted it, and he called the second bay he saw--that into which he

had descended over snow--Coldback, and that remains the name to this

day.

Eric behaved very nobly; he gave up to Onund the whole tract of land

from the Horn-headland to the limit where Biarni's land began. He

received the whole of Reykjafiord, Fishless Creek, and Coldback Bay.

Then Onund built himself a house at Coldback; and there was no

difficulty about wood, for the Gulfstream flowed up past the great

north-west promontory of Iceland, curled round into Hunafloi, and

deposited a quantity of American timber as drift all along that coast.

Indeed, the drift was so abundant that neither Eric nor Onund made any

agreement about it. Now, as it happened in the sequel, this was an

oversight.

Onund prospered at Coldback, and even set up for himself a second farm

at the head of the firth to the north, called Reykja-firth, from the

boiling springs that puffed and bubbled up in the sea at the entrance;

and a hot spring is in Icelandic--Reykr.

Now, a few years after Onund had settled in Iceland, his good wife Asa

died. He had by her two sons--the elder was called Thorgeir, and the

younger Ufeig Grettir. After a while Onund went courting a woman called

Thordis, in Middle-firth, and he married her, and by her had a son

called Thorgrim; he grew to be a big man, very strong, wise, and a

capital man at husbandry. When he was twenty-five years old his hair

grew gray, and so he went by the name of Thorgrim Grizzle-pate, and he

was the grandfather of Grettir. After the death of Onund, his widow

married, as already said, Audun of Willowdale, and their son was Asgeir,

the father of Grettir's cousin Audun, with whom he had that affray on

the ice, and then with the bottle of curds.

When Onund was a very old man, then he died in his bed, and he was

buried under a great mound, which you may see at Coldback if you go

there. It is called Old Treefoot's cairn. When he was dead, then

Thorgrim Grizzlepate and his half-brothers, Thorgeir and Ufeig Grettir,

lived together on the best of terms at Coldback, and managed the

property between them.

In time Eric Trap of Arness died also, and left his lands to his son

Flossi. He had remained in friendship with Onund all his life; but

Flossi, his son, was a grasping man, and he was often heard to grumble

about the Coldback family, and say that they were squatters on his

father's land, and had no title to show for the land they held.

Thorgrim Grizzlepate and his half-brothers did not wish to quarrel with

Flossi, so they kept out of his company; and when there were sports of

hurling, and wrestling, and horse-fighting, strayed away, so as not to

be involved in a quarrel with him.

Now, Thorgeir was the eldest of the three brothers at Coldback, and he

was mightily fond of fishing. This was known to Flossi, and he made a

plot for slaying him; for he was envious of the brothers, and wanted to

get back all their lands into his own possession. He had got a

house-churl called Finn, and he and Finn had some talk together. The end

of this talk was that Finn started secretly for Coldback armed with a

hatchet, and he hid himself in the boat-house at Coldback.

Early in the morning Thorgeir got ready to go out fishing, for the

weather was good, the sea calm and was alive with fish. His nets were

in the boat, and before sunrise he left his bed and dressed, and went to

the boat-house to start on his excursion. He had not the smallest

suspicion of mischief, and as he was like to be on the water for a long

time, he flung a great leather bottle of curds over his back. As already

said, these leather bottles were no other than the hides of goats or

sheep, sewn up and converted into receptacles for liquid.

So Thorgeir went to the boat-house with the bottle of curd over his

back, opened the door, and went in. He did not look round, he had no

suspicion of evil, and he did not see Finn lurking in the dark corner.

It was, moreover, very dark in the boat-house. Thorgeir stooped to get

hold of the boat and thrust her out, when all at once out from the dark

corner leaped the churl, and brought the axe down on Thorgeir's back.

The blow made the bottle squeak, and all the curds gushed out. That was

enough for Finn. He made sure he had killed Thorgeir, so he ran away as

fast as he could back to Arness, burst into the house, and shouted to

his master "I have killed him! I have killed him! And he squeaked! he

squeaked!"

"Let me look at the axe," said Flossi. Then, when he had the axe in his

hand he turned it about and laughed, and said, "Verily, I did not think

that Thorgeir had milk in his veins instead of blood. That accounts for

it, that you have been able to slay him."

This affair was a subject of much comment, and much laughter did it

provoke. Thorgeir had not received the smallest wound, only his bottle

was split, and ever after he went by the name of Bottle-back.

But a song was made about this event which was never forgotten. It runs

thus:--

"Of the days of old

Great tales are told

How heroes went forth to fight,

Their shields, for show

Were whitened as snow,

And their weapons were burnished bright

The battle began,

In the weapon-clang,

The red blood flowed apace

In rivers shed

It dyed red

The shields o'er all their face.

But nowaday

We tune our lay

To tell a different story.

The churls who fight

Bring axes white,

With curds and whey made gory."

When Kuggson ceased, Grettir laughed heartily. "Ah!" said he, "that

cannot be said now, for indeed there flows much blood."

"You speak the truth," answered Kuggson; "and I wish that this red

stream flowed less abundantly."

"That may be," said Grettir; "but I would fain hear the rest of the

story. I have not heard it told me for a long time; and, indeed, to

speak the truth, much of it I have clean forgotten, though I did hear it

when I was a boy at home."

"If you will hear what follows, it must be as a new story," said

Kuggson. Again I will tell it in my own words.

*The Story of the Stranded Whale*

Hard times came to Iceland, such as had not been known since it was

settled, for the timber that had been thrown up by the sea came to an

end, or very nearly so. There had been great accumulations, and these

were exhausted, and for some reason or other that cannot now be

explained the Gulf-stream ceased to carry on its current the amount of

timber it had formerly, the wreckage of the forests on the Mississippi,

swept down into the great Mexican Gulf, and thence washed out over the

vast Atlantic, borne on the warm stream to the north, to give fuel to

those lands which were by nature unprovided with trees. At this time

the axe was laid against the largest and finest birch that grew in the

forests in Iceland. But none of that timber was big and good enough for

building purposes.

This deficiency in drift-wood continued for many seasons, and if men

required building timber they were constrained to send to Norway for it.

Now, it happened that about this time a great merchant vessel was

wrecked in the fiord in the lap of which was Arness, where lived Flossi,

and he took four or five of the chapmen to his house, and lodged them

there well and hospitably, and the other wrecked men were quartered in

other farmhouses near. All winter the men were engaged in building a

new ship out of the wreck and what other timber they could get; but they

were not skilful over their work, and they built a badly-proportioned

vessel, over small at the stem and stern and over big amidships; and

this vessel was much laughed at, and men called it the Wooden-tub, and

that bay where Flossi lived was ever after called Wooden-tub Bay,

because this broad-beamed, comical vessel was built there.[#]

[#] It is still so called, Trekyllis-vic.

Now, it fell out that at the spring equinox there was a great storm from

the north, and it lasted a week. The waves came in huge rollers against

the cliffs, and spouted like geysers into the air, and all the air was

in a haze with spray, and was full of the noise of the sea. Those who

lived on the coast were not sorry for the storm, because they hoped it

would blow in drift-wood and other spoils of the deep upon the shores;

and sure enough, when it abated, a man who lived out on Reykja-ness came

and told Flossi that there was a great whale washed ashore there. Then

Flossi sent word to all the farms round to the north. But hard-by where

the whale had come ashore lived a farmer named Einar, who was a tenant

under the brothers at Coldback, so he took a boat and rowed off to

Coldback, and told them about the monster that was stranded.

When Thorgrim and his brothers Thorgeir and Ufeig heard this, they got

ready at once, and were twelve in a ten-oared boat, with axes and knives

for cutting up the whale. Another boat put off from another of their

farms, with six men in it, and others were sure to come as soon as they

could get ready.

In the meantime, Flossi and all his company, his kindred, servants, and

tenants, had hurried to the spot, and were already engaged in cutting up

the whale, when round the ness came the boat of the brothers. Now, the

shore where the whale was cast up belonged to the brothers, and they

called out to Flossi to assert their right to whatever was found on the

strand. Flossi answered that if they had any right to the drift they

must show their claim. They had, he said, been allowed by his father to

squat on his land, but his father had never given over to them all his

rights, certainly not the lordship over the strand, and claim to flotsam

and jetsam. Whilst the dispute continued, up came other boats of the

Coldback party, and then a long boat, that contained a fellow called

Swan, who lived in Biornfiord, to the south of Coldback, a very warm

friend of the brothers, and a plucky, resolute man.

Thorgrim was hesitating what to do, when Swan told him it would be mean

to allow himself to be robbed. Moreover, this assault on his rights, if

not resisted would establish a precedent, and Flossi would claim

everything found on their strand, even at their very doors.

So a fight began. The Coldback men came ashore, and Thorgeir

Bottle-back mounted the carcase of the whale, to drive off the servants

of Flossi. Among these was Finn; he was near the head of the whale, and

stood in a foothold he had cut for himself. Then Thorgeir Bottle-back

said, "Ah! I owe you a stroke of the axe, which has not been repaid as

yet," and he smote at him, and felled him.

Flossi egged on his men, and a desperate fight ensued; some fought on

the body of the whale, some about it. There were hardly any present who

had other weapons save choppers and axes, and they hewed at each other

with these. But some had no other weapons than the ribs of the whale,

and it is even said that some of the churls flourished great strips of

blubber, with which they banged each other about, nearly smothering each

other in oil, but not doing much harm.

The battle was going ill with Flossi, when there arrived a contingent of

men from Drangar, with many boats, and gave help to Flossi, and then

those of Coldback were borne back overpowered; but they did not retreat

till they had loaded their boats. Swan shouted to the Coldbackers to get

on board as quickly as they could, for he saw more men coming against

them from the north. Flossi received a wound, but Ufeig, one of the

three brothers, was dealt his death-wound before he could get into the

boat, and he fell on the strand. Thorgeir Bottle-back at once leaped

out of the vessel, ran to his brother, heaved him up in his arms and

plunged back through the surf with him, and lifted him into the boat,

where he died. It is told that in this battle one man was beaten to

death by the rib of a whale, and that was one of the chapmen of the

wrecked vessel.

After this, the matter was brought before the assize, for the question

of the right to the shore had to be decided one way or the other. And

it was decided in this manner: Flossi was condemned to outlawry for his

high-handed proceeding, and because of the death of Ufeig Grettir; but

the question of the rights was thus settled by the judge, Thorkel Moon.

He said, "I cannot see that the claim made by the Coldback men is

established, for no money passed between Onund and Eric. I know this

about the land that was possessed by my grandfather Ingolf, and which is

now my own. He received it from Steinver the Old; but then he gave her

a mottled cloak, and that was a pledge of sale; and this has never been

contested. In the matter of the lands inhabited by the Coldback men, as

far as I can learn, not even a straw was given in exchange. However, it

is proved that they have held the land, and have taken the drift for a

long time; and that the original owner, Eric, did not dispute their

doing so. I therefore decide that a compromise shall hold good. The

Coldback brothers must surrender all the Reykja-firth, and content

themselves with the land south of that. And I also decide that they

shall exercise full and undisputed rights to the land, to all that grows

on it, to the sea and what it throws up, along that bit of strand that

remains to them."

Now when Kuggson had finished this story, then Grettir said, "You have

not told how my grandfather and great-uncle parted."

"No," said Kuggson. "There is not much to tell about that. The two

brothers agreed to separate, as your grandfather wanted to marry in the

Middlefirth. Bottle-back remained at Coldback."

"Now that you have spoken so much about Coldback," said Grettir, "I will

tell you something, though it is to my discredit."

"Say on," answered Kuggson. "Men are generally more ready to boast than

to discredit themselves."

"When I was a little boy," said Grettir, "my father suffered from a cold

back and great pains in it, in winter, and he only got ease when it was

rubbed with a hot flannel. I was a bad, idle boy, and I was set in

winter to rub his cold back. This I resented. I thought it was a work

fit only for servants, and one day when my father had made me rub his

old back till I was tired, then he said to me, 'You are growing slack;

rub harder, that I may feel your hand.' 'Do you so want to feel my

hand, father,' I said. Then I saw a wool-comb hard by that the women

had used for carding wool, and I caught it and rubbed down my father's

back with that--so that he shrieked with pain, and I made the blood

flow. It was a wicked act. I think of it now the old man is dead, and

I am sorry."

"Yes," said Kuggson, "it was an evil act. Men say that you are an

unlucky man. Now, I do not wonder at your ill-luck, for none ever

raised his hand against his father but there followed him ill in

consequence of so doing all his days."

*CHAPTER XXIV.*

*THE FOSTER-BROTHERS.*

_Grettir's Promise--The Yule Ox--Holding the Boat--A Hard

Pull--Grettir and the Ox--Thorgeir's Hatred--The Concealed

Axe--Evil Sport--An Iceland Moor_

Now, the kinsmen of Oxmain heard where Grettir was, so they resolved to

form a party, and fall upon him at Learwood. But Grettir's

brother-in-law was aware of this and forewarned Grettir, so he went away

to the north, and he followed Gilsfiord till he reached Reyk-knolls,

where was a pleasant farm near the sea, where also were a great number

of ever-boiling springs, that poured and squirted and fizzed out of

mounds of red-clay. Here lived a man called Thorgils Arison, and he

asked this man if he would give him shelter through the winter.

Arison said that he would. "But," said he, "there is only plain fare in

my house."

"I am not choice as to my food, so long as I have a roof over my head,"

answered Grettir.

"There is one matter further," said Arison. "Somehow or other I get men

come to me and offer to become my guests who cannot settle elsewhere,

and I get a rough lot at times. That comes of being too good-hearted to

bid them pack. Even now I have two such good-for-naughts guesting with

me, two foster-brothers, Thorgeir and Thormod; rough, unkempt men, of

bad tempers both, and I wot not how you will agree together. You may

come and put your head within my doors if you will, but on one

condition, that there be no fighting and knocking about of my other

guests."

Grettir answered that he would not be the first to raise strife, and

that if the foster-brothers provoked him beyond endurance he would go

elsewhere, and not give his host annoyance by a brawl in his house.

With this promise Arison was content.

Thorgils Arison was a firm man, and he told the foster-brothers that he

would have no disturbance whilst they were with him, and they also

promised to be orderly. Thorgeir did not like Grettir. He scowled at

him and contradicted him, but did not pursue his rudeness beyond bounds;

and when Grettir was ruffled, a word from the master of the house served

to appease the rising blood.

So the early winter wore away.

Now, the good man, Thorgils Arison, owned a cluster of islands in the

firth that are called Olaf's Isles; they lie a good sea-mile and a half

beyond the ness. On them grass grows, and there the bonder kept his

cattle to fatten in autumn. Now, there was an ox on one of these isles

that Arison said he must have home before the snows and storms of winter

came on, as he intended to kill the beast for the feastings of Yule. So

the foster-brothers and Grettir volunteered to go out to the island, and

fetch the ox home.

They went down to the sea and got out a ten-oared boat, and there were

but these three to man it. The weather was cold, and the wind was

shifting from the north and not settled. They rowed hard, and reached

the island; but the sea was running and foaming over the shore, and they

saw it would be no easy matter to get the ox on board with such a surf.

So the brothers told Grettir he must hold the boat, whilst they got the

ox in. He agreed, and went into the water, and stood amidships on the

side out to sea, and thrust the boat towards the shore, whilst the

brothers laboured to get the ox in. Thorgeir took up the ox by the hind

legs, and Thormod by the fore legs, as the beast refused to be driven on

board, and so they carried the animal into the boat; but Grettir, who

held the craft, had the sea up to his shoulder-blades, and he held her

perfectly fast.

When the ox was hove in, Grettir let go and got into the boat. Thormod

took oar in the bows, Thorgeir amidships, and Grettir aft, and so they

made out into the open bay. As they came out from the lee of the island

the squall caught them, the waves leaped and foamed, and Thorgeir

shouted "Now then, stern! Have you gone to sleep? Why are you

lagging?"

Grettir answered, "The stern will not lag when the rowing afore is

good."

Thereupon Thorgeir fell to rowing so furiously that both the tholes were

broken. So he called to Grettir, "Row on steadily whilst I mend the

thole-pins."

Then Grettir rowed so mightily, whilst Thorgeir was engaged mending the

pins, that he wore through the oars, and when Thorgeir was ready they

snapped like matches.

"Better row with less haste and more caution," growled Thormod.

Then Grettir stooped and picked out of the bottom of the boat two

unshapen oar-beams that lay there; but as they were too big to go

between the thole-pins, he bored large holes in the gunwales, and thrust

the oars through, and rowed thus so mightily that every rib and plank of

the boat creaked, and the foster-brothers were in fear lest with his

rowing he would tear the craft to pieces. However, they reached the

shore in safety.

Then Grettir asked whether the brothers would rather haul up the boat,

or go home with the ox. They preferred to haul the boat ashore, and

found that it was hung with icicles, for the water had frozen on the

sides; but Grettir led home the ox, which was very fat, and very

unwilling to be dragged along, so that Grettir became impatient.

When the foster-brothers had finished bailing out the boat, and had put

her under cover, they went up to the house, and on reaching it Thorgeir

inquired after Grettir, but Arisen the bonder said he had not seen him

or the ox. Then he sent out men in quest of him, for he supposed

something must have befallen him; and when they came to where the land

dipped towards the sea they saw a strange object indeed coming towards

them, and did not know at first whether what they saw was a human being

or a troll.[#] On approaching nearer they saw that this strange object

was Grettir, who was carrying the ox on his back, and striding up the

hill with the beast, which had the head hanging over his shoulder, the

tongue out, and was lowing plaintively. The sight was infinitely

comical, and the men who saw it burst out laughing, and this made

Grettir also laugh, so that he dropped the ox.

[#] A troll is a mountain demon or giant.

Now, it must be known that this story is not manifestly absurd, for the

Icelandic cattle are very small, like Brittany cows, and bear the same

relation to a good English ox that a pony does to a horse. Nevertheless

the feat was only such as a strong man could have accomplished. It had

taken the two brothers to carry the ox down into the boat, and here was

Grettir alone carrying him up hill.

This deed of Grettir was much talked of, and this made Thorgeir, the

elder of the foster-brothers, very jealous of Grettir, and he hated him,

and sought to do him an injury. One day after Yule, Grettir went down

to the bath that was made by turning a stream of hot water from one of

the natural boiling springs into a walled basin into which also cold

water could be turned from a rill. In former times the Icelanders were

very particular about bathing, and were a clean people. At the present

day they never bathe at all, and such of the old baths as remain are out

of order and full of grass and mud.

Thorgeir said to his brother, "Let us go now and try how Grettir will

start, if I set upon him as he comes away from his bath."

"I do not like this," answered Thormod; "you will vex our host, and get

no advantage over Grettir."

"I will try what I can do," said the elder; and he took his axe, hid it

under his cloak, and went down towards the bathing-place.

When he had reached it he said, "Grettir, there is a talk that you have

boasted that no man could make you take to your heels."

"I never said that," answered Grettir, "but anyhow you are not the man

to make me run."

Then Thorgier swung up his axe and would have cut at Grettir; but

Grettir suspected that the man meant mischief, and he was ready, so that

the instant he drew out the axe and swung it, Grettir clashed forward at

him, struck him in the chest and sent him staggering back, so that he

sprawled his length on the ground.

Then Thorgeir shouted to his brother, "Why do you stand by and let this

savage kill me?"

Thormod then laid hold of Grettir, and endeavoured to drag him away, but

his strength was not sufficient to effect this.

At that moment up came Arison, the bonder, and he bade them be quiet and

have nought to do with Grettir.

So the brothers stood up, and Thorgeir pretended it was all sport, that

he had only proposed giving Grettir a fright; but the bonder hardly

believed him. As for the younger of the brothers, it was well seen that

he had been drawn into the matter against his will. So the winter

passed, and peace was kept. This little struggle with Grettir had shown

Thorgeir that it would be ill for him to have dealings with a man so

prompt and strong as Grettir, and he controlled himself and did not seek

to pick a quarrel with him any more. At the same time he did not like

him any better. Thorgils Arison got great credit, when it was reported

that throughout an entire winter he had maintained such turbulent men as

the foster-brothers and Grettir under his roof without their having

fought.[#]

[#] There is an entire saga relating to the history of these brothers,

called the Foster-Brothers' Saga.

But when spring came then they went away, all of them, away over the

heaths and moors of the interior.

When we say that Grettir was on the heaths and moors, it must not be

supposed that the region so called was at all like the moors of Scotland

or England. The heaths and moors of Iceland are upland desert regions

with only here and there a scanty growth of vegetation, a little

whortleberry, no heath at all, but vast tracts of broken stone and mud

and black sand, with perhaps here and there an occasional hill of yellow

sandstone. Most of the rock is perfectly black, and breaks into pieces

with sharp angles. What is called Icelandic moss is a black lichen that

grows on the stones, and there is a very little gray moss to be seen.

Where there is a burn or a stream a little grass may grow, but the

amount is small indeed.

*CHAPTER XXV.*

*HOW GRETTIR WAS WELL-NIGH HUNG.*

_The Law-man's Judgment--Snorri's Compromise--The Compromise

Declined--Grettir Helps Himself--The Spy--Thirty to One--An

Undesirable Prisoner--The Gallows for Grettir--Thorbiorg Saves

Grettir--Grettir Conquers Himself_

Now, after the slaying of Thorbiorn Oxmain, his kinsman Thorod took the

matter up, and rode to the great assize with a large train of men.

The relatives of Grettir also appeared at the assize, and they took

advice of Skapti, the law-man; and he said that Atli was slain a week

before the sentence of outlawry was pronounced against Grettir, that

Thorbiorn Oxmain was guilty of that, and his relatives must pay a heavy

fine for the murder. But he said that Grettir was an outlaw when he

slew Thorbiorn. Now being an outlaw he was outside the cognizance of

the law, he was as one not a native of the country, as one over whom the

law had no longer jurisdiction; that, therefore, his slaying of

Thorbiorn could not count as expiation of the slaying of Atli; that,

moreover, no suit against an outlawed man could stand--it was illegal:

that the only way in which Grettir could be brought into court was by

the removal of the sentence of outlawry, when at once he could be

prosecuted.

Thorod was disconcerted at this; for he could not bring an action

against Grettir, and the Biarg people did now bring an action against

him for the slaying of Atli, and the court gave sentence that he should

pay down two hundred ounces of silver as blood fine for Atli.

Now, at this court, Snorri the judge proposed a compromise. He

suggested that the fine should be let drop, and that Grettir should be

held scatheless, that the outlawry should be set aside, and the slaying

of Thorbiorn be put against the slaying of Atli, and so reconciliation

be made.

Thorod did not at all want to pay down two hundred ounces of silver, and

the Biarg family were very willing to have the outlawry done away with;

so both parties were quite willing to accept this compromise, but Thorir

of Garth had to be reckoned with. Grettir was outlawed at his suit for

the burning of his sons, and he must be brought to consent, or this

arrangement could not take place.

But Thorir was not to be moved. In vain did the law-man Snorri urge

him, and represent to him that Grettir, at large, an outlaw, was a

danger menacing the country, that he was driven to desperation, Thorir

absolutely refused to allow the sentence to be withdrawn. Not only so,

but he said he would set a higher price on his head than had been set on

the head of any outlaw before, and that was three marks of silver. Then

Thorod, not to be behind with him, offered three more.

Grettir resolved to get as much out of the way of his enemies as he

could, so he went into that strange excrescence, like a hand joined on

by a narrow wrist to Iceland, that extends to the north-west. In this

peninsula are two great masses of snow and glacier mountain, called

Glam-jokull and Drang-jokull. They do not rise to any great height,

hardly three thousand feet, but they are vast domes of snow, with

glaciers sliding from them to the firths, and these fall over the edges

of the precipitous cliffs in huge blocks of ice that float away on the

tide as icebergs. The largest of all the fiords that penetrates this

region is called the Ice-firth, and it runs between these great

mountains of snow and glaciers. At the extremity of the estuary the

valleys are well-wooded--that is to say, well-wooded for Iceland--with

birch-trees, for their valleys are very sheltered, and the sea-water

that roll in bears with it a certain amount of heat, for it has been

affected by the Gulf-stream.

One of these valleys is called Waterdale, and at the time of our story

there lived there a man named Vermund the Slim, and his wife's name was

Thorbiorg; she was a big, fine woman. Another valley is Lang-dale.

Grettir went to Lang-dale--there he demanded of the farmers whatever he

wanted, food and clothing, and if they would not give him what he asked,

he took it. This was not to their taste at all, and they wished that

they were rid of Grettir. He could not remain long in one place, so he

rode along the side of the Ice-firth demanding food, and sleeping and

concealing himself in the woods. So in his course he came to the upland

pastures and dairy that belonged to Vermund Slim, and he slept there

many nights, and hid about in the woods.

The shepherds on the moors were afraid of him, and they ran down into

the valleys and told the farmers everywhere that there was a big strange

man on the heights, who took from them their curd and milk, and dried

fish, and that they were afraid to resist his demands. They did not

quite know what he was, whether a man or a mountain spirit.

So the farmers gathered together and took advice, and there were about

thirty of them. They set a shepherd to watch Grettir's movements, and

let them know when he could be fallen upon. Now, it fell out one warm

day that Grettir threw himself down in a sunny spot to sleep. The

glistening beech leaves were flickering behind him, the rocks were

covered with the pale lemon flowers of the dry as, and between the

clefts of the stones masses of large purple-flowered geranium stood up

and made a glow of colour deep into the wood.

It is a mistake to suppose that Iceland is bare of flowers; on the

contrary, there are more flowers there than grass. Beneath Grettir the

turf was full of tiny deep-blue gentianellas, just as if the turf were

green velvet, with a thread of blue in it coming through here and there.

The shepherd stole near enough to see that Grettir really was fast

asleep, and then he ran and told the bonders, who came noiselessly to

the spot. It was arranged among them that ten men should fling

themselves on him, whilst the others fastened his feet with strong

cords.

They made a noose, and cautiously without waking him managed to get it

about his legs; then, all at once, ten of them threw themselves on his

body, and tried to pin down his arms. Grettir started from his sleep,

and with one toss sent the men rolling off him, and he even managed to

get to his knees. Then they pulled the noose tighter and brought him

down, he, however, kicked out at two, whom he tumbled head over heels,

and they lay stunned on the earth. Then one after another rushed at

him, some from behind. He could not get at his weapons, which they had

removed, and though he made a long and hard fight, and struggled

furiously, they were too many for him, and they overcame him in the end,

and bound his hands.

Now, as he lay on the grass, powerless, they held a council over him

what should be done. The chief man of that district was Vermund Slim,

but he was from home. So it was settled that a farmer named Helgi

should take Grettir and keep him in ward till Vermund came home.

"Thank you gratefully," said Helgi; "but I have other business to attend

to than to keep sentinel over this man. My hands are fully occupied

without this. Not if I know it shall he cross my threshold."

So the farmers considered, and decided that another man who lived at

Giorvidale should have the custody of Grettir.

"You are most obliging," said he; "but I have only my old woman with me

at home, and how can we two manage him? Lay on a man only such a burden

as he can bear."

They considered again, and came to the conclusion that one Therolf of

Ere should have the charge of Grettir.

But he replied, "No, thank you, I am short of provisions, there is

hardly food enough at my house for my own party."

Then they appointed that he should be put with another farmer; but he

said, "If he had been taken in my land, well and good, but as he has

not, I won't be encumbered with him."

Then every farmer was tried, and all had excuses why they should not

have the care of Grettir; and consequently, as no one would have him,

they resolved to hang him. So they set to work and constructed a rude

gallows there in the wood, and a mighty clatter they made over it.

Whilst thus engaged, it happened that Thorbiorg, Vermund's wife, was

riding up to her mountain dairy, attended by five servants. She was a

stirring, clever woman, and when she saw so many men gathered together

and making such a noise, she rode towards them to inquire what they were

about.

"Who is that lying in bonds there?" she asked.

Then Grettir answered and gave his name.

"Why, now, is it, Grettir," she said, "that you have given so much

trouble in this neighbourhood?"

"I must needs be somewhere," he answered. "And wherever I am, there I

must have food."

"It is a piece of ill-luck that you should have fallen into the hands of

these bumpkins," said she. Then turning to the farmers she asked what

they purposed doing with Grettir.

"Hang him," answered they.

"I do not deny that Grettir may have deserved the rope," said Thorbiorg;

"but I doubt if you are doing wisely in taking his life. He belongs to

a great family, and his death will not be to your quietness and content

if you kill him." Then she said to Grettir, "What will you do if your

life be given you?"

"You propose the conditions," said he.

"Very well, then you must swear not to revenge on these men what they

have done to you to-day, and not to do any violence more in the

Ice-firth."

Grettir took the required oath, and so he was loosed from his bonds. He

said afterwards that never had he a harder thing to do than to control

his temper, when set free, and not to knock the farmers' heads together

like nuts and crack them, for what they had done to him.

Then Thorbiorg invited him to her house, and he went with her to the

Water-firth, and there abode till her husband returned, and when Vermund

heard all, then he was well pleased; and deemed that his wife had acted

with great prudence and kindness. He asked Grettir to remain there as

long as was consistent with his safety, and Grettir accepted his

hospitality, and continued there as his guest till late in the autumn,

when he went south to Learwood, where was Kuggson, with whom he purposed

spending the winter. However, he was not able to stay there, for it

soon became known where he was, and his enemies prepared to take him.

He accordingly left and went to a friend in another fiord, and remained

a short while with him, but was obliged for the same reason to fly

thence also; and so he spent the winter dodging about from place to

place, never able to remain long anywhere, because his enemies were so

resolved on his death, and were on the alert to fall on him wherever

they heard he was sheltering.

*CHAPTER XXVI.*

*IN THE DESERT.*

_The Center of the Island--Ice, Desert, and Volcanoes--The

Bubble-Caves--A Dweller in the Desert--Grettir Stops the

Rider--Hall-mund Stronger than Grettir--Grettir Seeks Skapti's

Advice--Grettir's Night Fears--Grettir Builds a House_

The island of Iceland is one-third larger than Ireland, but then the

population is entirely confined to the coast. All the centre of the

island is desert and mountain. One mighty mass of mountain covered with

eternal snow and ice occupies the south of the island and approaches the

sea very closely in the south-east. Much of this is unexplored; it has

of recent years been traversed once, across the great Vatna-jokull, but

there are passes west of the Vatna. The mountain masses are broken into

three main masses. The vast Vatna-jokull is to the east, then comes a

pass, and next the circular Arnafells-jokull, then another pass, and

lastly the jumble of snow mountains that form the Ball-jokull and the

Lang-jokull, the Goatland and the Erick's-jokull. North of the

Vatna-jokull is a vast region, as large as a big county, covered with

lava broken up into bristling spikes and deep clefts of glass-like rock,

which no one can possibly get across. In the midst of it, inaccessible,

rise the cones of volcanoes that have poured forth this sea of molten

rock. East and west of this mighty tract of broken-up lava come

extensive moors also quite desert, covered with inky-black sand which

has been erupted by volcanoes, burying and destroying what vegetation

there was. The extent of desert may be understood when you learn that

there are twenty thousand square miles of country perfectly barren and

uninhabitable, and only partially explored. There are but four thousand

square miles in Iceland that are inhabited; the rest of the country is a

chaos of ice, desert, and volcanoes. The great lava region mentioned

north of the Vatna covers one thousand one hundred and sixty square

miles, and the Vatna envelopes three thousand five hundred square miles

in ice. Now, here and there in this vast region there are certain

sheltered spots where some grass grows, valleys that have escaped the

overflow of the molten rock, or the thrust of the glacier; and during

the ninety years that Iceland had been inhabited, every now and then a

churl who got tired of service, or a murderer afraid of his life, ran

away into the centre of the island, and lived a precarious existence on

the wild birds, their eggs, and on the fish that abounded in the

countless lakes. Probably also they stole sheep, and carried them away

to the mysterious recesses of the desert where they had made for

themselves homes. They lived chiefly in caverns, of which there are

plenty thus formed:--When the lava poured as a fiery stream out of the

volcanoes, in cooling great bubbles were formed in it, sometimes these

bubbles exploded, blew the fragments into the air, which fell back and

made a mass of broken bits of rock like an exploded soda-water bottle;

but all the bubbles did not burst, and such hardened when the rock

became cool. These bubbles remain as great domed halls, and some of

them run deep underground, forming a succession of chambers. I have

explored one where a band of outlaws once lived, and found numbers of

sheep-bones frozen up in ice in the place where, after they had eaten

the mutton, they threw away what they could not devour. At the end of

the cave they had erected a wall so as to inclose a space as a store

chamber.

These men, living in the desert and rarely seen, were the subject of

many tales, and it was not clearly known who and what they really were,

whether altogether human, or half mountain-spirits. Imagination invested

them with supernatural powers.

When spring came and the snows melted, then Grettir left the farmhouse

where he had been last in hiding, and went into the desert, to find food

and shelter for himself.

One day he saw a man on horseback alone riding over a ridge of hill. He

was a very big man, and he led another horse that had bags of goods on

his back. The man wore a slouched hat so that his face could not

clearly be seen.

Grettir looked hard at the horse and the goods on the pack-saddle, and

thought he would probably find some of these latter serviceable to him,

and in his need he was not particular how he got those things which he

wanted. So he went up to the rider and peremptorily ordered him to

stand and deliver.

"Why should I give you things that are my own?" asked the stranger. "I

will sell some of my wares if you can pay for them."

"I have no money," answered Grettir, "what I want I take. You must have

heard that by report."

"Then I know with whom I have to deal; you are Grettir the outlaw, the

son of Asmund of Biarg." Thereat he struck spurs into his horse and

tried to ride past.

"Nay, nay! We part not like this," said Grettir, and he laid his hands

on the reins of the horse the stranger rode.

"You had better let go," said the mounted man.

"Nay, that I will not," answered Grettir.

Then the rider stooped and put his hands to the reins above those of

Grettir, between them and the bit, and he dragged them along, forcing

Grettir's hands along the bridle to the end and then wrenched them out

of his grasp.

Grettir looked at his palms and saw that the skin had been torn in the

struggle. Then he found out that he had met with a man who was stronger

than himself.

"Give me your name," said he. "For, good faith! I have not encountered

a man like you."

Then the horseman laughed and sang:

"By the Caldron's side

Away I ride,

Where the waters rush and fall

Adown the crystal glacier wall

There you will find a stone

Joined to a hand--alone."

This was a puzzling answer. The meaning was that he lived near a

waterfall that poured out of the Ice mountain, and that his name was

Hall-mund, _hall_ is a stone and _mund_ is the hand.

Grettir and he parted good friends; and as he rode away Hall-mund called

out to Grettir that he would remember this meeting, and as it ended in

friendliness he hoped to do him a good turn yet,--that when every other

place of refuge failed he was to seek him "by the Caldron's side, where

the waters rush and fall, adown the crystal glacier wall" under

Ball-jokull, and there he would give him shelter.

After this Grettir went to the house of his friend the law-man Skapti,

and asked his advice, and whether he would house him for the ensuing

winter.

"No, friend," answered Skapti, "you have been acting somewhat lawlessly,

laying hands on other men's goods, and this ill becomes a well-born man

such as you. Now, it would be better for you not to rob and reive, but

get your living in other fashion, even though it were poorer fare you

got, and sometimes you had to go without food. I cannot house you, for

I am a law-man, and it would not be proper for me who lay down the law

to shelter such a notorious law-breaker as yourself. But I will give

you my advice what to do. To the north of the Erick's-jokull is a

tangle of lakes and streams. The lakes have never been counted they are

in such quantities, and no one knows how to find his way among them.

These lakes are full of fish, and swarm with birds in summer. There is

also a little creeping willow growing in the sand, and some scanty

grass. It is only one hard day's ride over the waste to Biarg, so that

your mother can supply you thence with those things of which you stand

in absolute need, as clothing, and you can fish and kill birds for your

subsistence, and will have no need to rob folk and exact food from the

bonders, thereby making yourself a common object of terror and dislike.

One more piece of advice I give you--Beware how you trust anyone to be

with you."

Grettir thought this advice was good--only in one point was it hard for

him to follow. He was haunted with these fearful dreams at night which

followed the wrestle with Glam, and in the long darkness of winter the

dreadful eyes stared at him from every quarter whither he turned his, so

that it was unendurable for him to be alone in the dark.

Still--he went. He followed up the White River to the desert strewn

with lakes from which that river flowed, and there found himself in

utter solitude and desolation.

A good map of Iceland was made in 1844, and on that fifty-three lakes

are marked, but the smaller tarns were not all set down. In such a

tangle of water and moor Grettir might be in comparative security. He

settled himself on a spot of land that runs out into the waters of the

largest of the sheets of water, which goes by the name of the Great

Eagle Lake, and thereon he built himself a hovel of stones and turf, the

ruins of which remain to this day, and I have examined them.

*CHAPTER XXVII.*

*ON THE GREAT EAGLE LAKE.*

_The Ruins of the Hut--Erick's-jokull--A Craving for

Companionship--A Traitor--Grim Tries to Kill Grettir--Redbeard

Undertakes the Task--Redbeard's Stratagem--A Base

Fellow--Grettir sinks to the Bottom--Caught in his own

Trap--Grettir attacked by Thorir--The Attack Baffled--The

Guardian of Grettir's Back--A Summer with Hallmund_

Grettir was settled now on the Great Eagle Lake. This lake is shaped

like the figure 8, only that the spot of land between the upper and

lower portion of the lake does not run quite across. On one side of this

spot the rock falls away precipitously into the water, whereas it slopes

on the other. If I had had a spade and pick, and if there had been more

grass on the moor so as to allow of a longer stay, I would have dug

about the foundations of Grettir's hut, and, who can tell! I might

perhaps have found some relic of him. There is no record of anyone else

having inhabited it since he was there, and in the middle of the 13th

century, when the Saga of Grettir was committed to writing, there

remained the ruins of his hut, but no one lived at the place. Now there

is no human habitation for many miles; the lake was a day's journey on

horseback from the nearest farm, where I had spent the night. You must

get some idea of the place where now for some years Grettir was to live.

The moor is made up of rock split to fragments by the frost, and with

wide tracts between the ridges of rock strewn with black volcanic ash

and sand. It lies high; when I camped out there at the end of June,

there was no grass visible, only angelica shoots, and a little trailing

willow, so that my horses had to feed on these. The willow does not

rise above the surface of the ground, but its roots trail long distances

under the surface, groping for nutriment; and for fuel one has to dig

out these roots with one's fingers, and employ those which are dryest.

Every dip in the moor is filled with a lake, and every lake has in it a

pair of swans; in addition there are abundance of other wild fowl, and

on the moor are ptarmigan that live on the flowers of the whortle or

blae-berry.

Above the rolling horizon of moor, to the south rises the great snowy

dome of Erick's-jokull. This is in reality a huge volcano, with

precipitous sides of black lava towering up like an immense giant's

castle. The great crater has been choked up with the snow of centuries,

and the snow in falling had piled up a vast cupola of snow and ice

standing high above the black walls, and sliding and falling over the

edges in a succession of avalanches. When, at eleven o'clock at night,

I looked out of my tent at Erick's-jokull, the scene was sublime. The

sun had just gone under the northern horizon of snow and hill, but shone

on the great dome of Erick's-jokull, turning it to the purest and most

delicate rose colour, and the walls of upright basalt that sustained the

dome were of the purple of a plum. Grettir obtained nets and a boat

from home, and such things as he wanted for his hut. One great

advantage of his present situation was that three different roads or

rather tracks led to it from Biarg, so that those who wanted to come to

him from home could select their way and avoid observation, till they

got among the lakes, when they were in a labyrinth in which anyone might

easily be lost, and any one could escape a pursuer. It is true that it

was a long and arduous day's ride from Biarg to the Eagle Lake, but the

whole of the course along each of the ways lay through uninhabited land.

Now, when other outlaws heard that Grettir was on the Eagle Lake Heath,

they had a mind to join themselves to him, and Grettir was not unwilling

to have a companion, so lonely did he feel on this waste, and also so

fearful was he of being by himself in the dark.

There was a man called Grim, who was an outlaw; and Grettir's enemies

made a bargain with him, that he should go to the Eagle Lake Heath,

pretend to be friends with Grettir, seek opportunity, and kill him. They

on their side undertook, if he would do this, to get his sentence of

outlawry reversed, and to furnish him liberally with money.

Accordingly he went to the moor, and after some trouble, found Grettir,

and asked if he might live with him.

Grettir replied, "I do not much relish such company as yours, for you

have got into outlawry through very infamous deeds. I mistrust you;

nevertheless I will suffer you to remain if you work hard and be

obedient. I do not want idle hands here."

Grim said he was willing, and prayed hard that he might dwell there, and

carried his point. He remained with Grettir the whole of the winter;

there was not much friendship between them. Grettir mistrusted him all

along, and was never parted from his weapons, night or day, and Grim did

not venture to attack him whilst he was awake.

But one morning, when Grim came in from fishing, he went into the hut

and stamped his foot and made a noise, seeing that Grettir lay in his

bed asleep; and he was desirous to know how soundly he slept. Grettir

did not start and open his eyes, but lay quite still. Then Grim made

more noise, thinking that if Grettir were awake he would chide him; but

Grettir made no motion. Then Grim made sure that he was fast asleep,

and he stepped to his side. Now, the short sword that had been taken

out of the barrow of Karr the Old hung above the bed-head. Grim leaned

over Grettir and laid hold of the sword, and put both hands to it to

draw it out of the sheath. At that instant Grettir started up, caught

Grim round the waist and flung him backwards so that he was stunned, and

the sword fell from his hand. So Grettir made him confess that he had

been bribed to set on him and murder him. And then Grettir would have

no more of him, and resolved to live entirely alone. Yet--directly he

was alone, his dreams, and his horror of the dark, returned on him. Now,

Thorir of Garth heard of an outlaw named Thorir Redbeard, a very big

man, who for murder had been outlawed, and was therefore in hiding

somewhere. Thorir of Garth sent out messengers in search of him, and at

last brought about a meeting, and then he offered him a great deal of

money if he would kill Grettir. Redbeard said it was no easy task, for

that Grettir was wise and wary.

"It is because it is no easy task that I set you to do it," said Thorir

of Garth. "You are no milksop to do easy jobs."

This flattered Redbeard, and he undertook to do what was required. He

came out on the Eagle Lake Heath in the autumn after that winter when

Grim had been with Grettir and made the attempt on his life. Grettir

was feeling uneasy and troubled, as the days grew shorter, with the eyes

that he thought stared at him from every quarter, and although his

judgment prompted him to refuse hospitality to Redbeard, yet his dread

of being alone in the dark induced him to disregard his doubts. So he

reluctantly admitted Redbeard to be an inmate of his cot.

"Now, mind this," said Grettir. "I let a man be with me here last

winter, and he lay wait for my life. If I find that you are false, then

I shall not spare you."

Redbeard said he wished for nothing else; and so Grettir received him,

and found him to be a very powerful man, and so energetic that he was of

the greatest assistance to Grettir.

Redbeard was with him all that winter (1019-1020) and found no occasion

on which he could take Grettir unawares. Then set in the next winter

1020-1021, and Redbeard had begun to loathe his life on the heath, and

no wonder, for he saw no one save Grettir; the cold and desolation of

the spot was surpassingly wretched. Now he became impatient to kill

Grettir and get away.

One night a great storm broke over the moor whilst he and Grettir were

asleep. The roar of the wind woke Redbeard and he ran outside the hut,

down to the water-side, and with a huge stone he smashed the

fishing-boat, so that it sank; and the oars and bits he had broken off

he threw away into the lake. So did he with the nets.

When he came in Grettir was awake also, and he asked how fared the boat.

"She has broken from her mooring," answered Redbeard, "and has been

dashed to bits on the rocks."

Then Grettir jumped up, and taking his weapons ran out to the end of the

spit of land on which his hut was built, and saw how the nets were

drifting in the waves and were entangled with the oars.

"Jump in, swim out, and bring them to shore," said he to Redbeard. The

man shook his head and answered:

"I can do anything save swim. I have not held back from any other work

you have set me, but swim I cannot."

Then Grettir laid his weapons down by the waterside and prepared to jump

in. But he mistrusted Redbeard, so he said, "I will get in the nets, as

you cannot; but I trust you will not deal treacherously by me."

Redbeard answered, "I should be a base fellow and unworthy to live if I

were false to you now--after you have housed me so long."

Then Grettir put off his clothes, and went into the water, and swam out

to the nets.

He swept them up together and brought them towards the land, and cast

them up on the bank; but the moment he attempted to land Redbeard caught

up the short sword, drew it hastily and ran at Grettir and smote at him,

just as he was heaving himself up out of the water. The blade would

have cut into his neck, or between his shoulder-blades, had not Grettir

instantly let go, and fallen backwards into the water and sunk like a

stone. Sinking thus headlong he reached the bottom, and instead of

rising to the surface again he clung to the rocks under water, and

groped his way along as close as he could to the bank, so that Redbeard

might not see him till he had reached the back of the creek and got

aland.

Now, Redbeard stood at the end of the promontory, looking into the

water, much puzzled. He had not cut Grettir with the sword, and yet

Grettir was gone down, and did not rise. He thought he must have struck

his head against a stone, and so have sunk, and he looked out into the

water wondering where and when he would rise. Meanwhile Grettir had

come ashore behind him and was approaching stealthily. Redbeard was

unaware of his danger till Grettir had his arms about him, had heaved

him over his head and dashed him down on the rocks, so that his skull

was broken. After that Grettir resolved not to take another outlaw into

his house, though he could hardly endure to be alone.

Thorir of Garth did not hear of the death of Redbeard till next summer

at the great assize; and then he was so angry, and so resolved to make

an end of Grettir, that he collected a body of resolute men, his

servants and others whom he hired for the purpose, to the number of

nearly eighty, to sweep the Eagle Lake Heath and take and kill Grettir.

One day, when Grettir was out on the moor, he saw a large body of armed

men riding towards the lake. He had time to fly to a hill that rises at

a little distance, where there is a rift in the rock that traverses the

top of the hill. When I read the account in the saga I could not quite

understand what follows, but no sooner was I on the spot than all

appeared quite clear. One could see, at once, that Grettir, taken by

surprise, would run to this very spot and no other. It was the nearest

available place of vantage, with stone and crag. The situation was not

the best that might have been chosen, as it left Grettir's back

unprotected; however, he had no time to seek a better.

[Illustration: GRETTIR ATTACKED IN THE RIFT BY THORIR'S PARTY.]

Thorir came with his men to the bottom of the hill, and shouted to

Grettir and taunted him.

Grettir replied, "Though you may have put the spoon to your lips you

have not swallowed the broth."

Then Thorir egged on his men to go up the slope at Grettir, but this was

not easy. It was steep, and the rocks were close on either side so that

Grettir could not be surrounded. Only one man could get at him from

before at once. Several attempts were made, but all failed; some of the

assailants were killed, some wounded. Then Thorir broke up his party

into two, and sent one detachment round to the back of the rocks, to

fall on Grettir from behind. Grettir saw the manoeuvre, and did not see

how to meet it. All he could do would be to sell his life dearly. He

could not hold out long when assailed simultaneously from before and

behind.

Thorir bade the attack slacken till he thought those sent to the rear

would be ready, and then he ordered a grand, and, as he believed, a

combined assault. Grettir fought with desperation, expecting every

moment to be cut down from behind, but to his surprise and that of

Thorir he was left unmolested in the rear.

Thorir called off his men, and went round the hill to inquire why the

attack from behind had not taken place. To his amazement he came on a

discomfited party bleeding, faint, and baffled, and to find that twelve

men had fallen in it.[#]

[#] At the time, or rather shortly after I had been on the spot, I

wrote, "There is a nook like a sentry-box in the side of the cleft, and

it was in this that Hallmund ensconced himself, so that he could hew

down anyone who attempted to pass through this cleft to get at Grettir's

back, whilst remaining himself screened from observation. I could not

understand the saga account before I saw the spot, and how it was that

those attacking Grettir from behind did not see Hallmund. The sight of

the place made all plain."

Then he bade a retreat. "Oft," he said, "have I heard that Grettir is a

man of marvel for prowess, but I never knew before that he was a wizard,

and able to kill as many at his back as he does in front of him."

When he numbered his men, Thorir found that he had lost eighteen. Then

he and his retinue rode away, and they carried on them many and grievous

wounds.

Now Grettir was no less perplexed with the event than was Thorir, and

when the latter had withdrawn he went through the rift in the rocks to

see why he had not been fallen on from the rear,--and he lighted on a

tall strong man leaning against the rocks, sore wounded.

Grettir asked his name, and the tall man replied that he was Hallmund.

"Do you remember meeting me on the heath one day?" asked the wounded

man, "when you tried to stop my horse, and I pulled the reins through

your hands so as to skin the palms'? Then I promised if I had the

chance to back you up."

"Indeed," said Grettir, much moved, "I remember that right well, and now

I thank you with all my heart, for this day you have saved my life."

Then Hallmund said, "You must now come with me, for time must drag with

you solitary here on the heath."

Grettir said he was glad to accept the offer; so they went together

south to the Ball-jokull, and there Hallmund had a great cave, and his

daughter, a big muscular girl, lived there with him; there the girl

applied plasters to the wounds of her father and healed him.

Grettir remained with them in the cave all the ensuing summer. But when

summer came to an end, he wearied of being so long in the desert, and

longed to see and be with his fellow-men in inhabited parts once more;

so he bade farewell to Hallmund, and went away to the west to Hit-dale

that opens on the Marshland, through which six or seven large rivers

flow. Here he had a friend named Biorn living at Holm.

*CHAPTER XXVIII.*

*ON THE FELL.*

_The Hollow of Fairwood Fell--Above the Shale Slide--The

Outlaw's Lair--The Boaster--A Dandified Warrior--Hunter and

Hunted--A Skin-dressing--Sadder and Wiser_

Biorn when asked by Grettir to give him shelter declined to do so, not

that the will was lacking, but that he had not the power to protect him.

"You have made," he said, "enemies on all sides, and if I were to take

you under my roof all your enemies would become mine also, and I would

be involved in endless and bitter quarrels. I cannot give you direct

assistance and shelter, but indirectly I will do what I can for you.

There is a long hill, called Fairwood Fell, that runs in front of my

house on the other side of the river, and ends just above the marshes.

Now, in one place there is a steep shale slide, and above this is a

hollow through the mountain, that might very well be made into a dry and

comfortable place of abode. From the entrance every one who passes

along the highway, all who come across the marshes, can be seen. I can

supply you with a few necessaries to fit the place up, but when there

you must shift for yourself. I must not risk too much by supporting

you."

Grettir consented to this. So he went up to Fairwood Fell and built up

the cave, and hung gray wadmal before the entrance, so that no one below

could notice that there was anything peculiar or anyone living there.

In this eagle's nest among the rocks Grettir spent the time from the

autumn of 1022 to the spring of 1024, that is, two winters. Whatever

fuel he wanted, all he had to eat, everything he wanted, had to be

carried up this slippery and steep ascent by him. Down the shale slide

he came when short of provisions, and went over the marshes to this or

that farm and demanded or carried off, sometimes a sheep, sometimes

curds, dried fish, in a word what he required; and a very great nuisance

the men of the district found him. Heartily did they wish they were rid

of him, yet they could not drive him from his place of abode, for it was

so difficult of access and so easy of defence.

Now, some years ago, in the summer of 1862, the year after I was in

Iceland, a very similar lair which Grettir inhabited a little later in

the east of Iceland was explored by an Icelandic farmer. This is his

description of it: "The lair stands in the lower part of a slip of

stones beneath some sheer rocks. It is built up of stones, straight as a

line 4-3/4 ells long and 10 inches wide, and is within the walls 7/8 of

an ell deep. Half of it is roofed over with flat stones, small thin

splinters of stone are wedged in between these to fill up the joints,

and these are so firmly fixed that they could not be removed without

tools. One stone in the south wall is so large that it requires six men

to move it. The north wall is beginning to give way. On the outside

the walls are overgrown with black lichen and gray moss."

Something like this was the den of Grettir on the Fairwood Fell, but it

was less built up, as he had the natural rock for two of the sides and

for the roof.

Whilst Grettir was there, there came a ship into harbour, in which was a

man named Gisli, a merchant, very fond of wearing smart clothes, and an

inordinately vain man. He heard the farmers talking about Grettir, and

what a vexation it was to them to have him in their neighbourhood.

"Don't talk to me about Grettir," said Gisli; "I've had battles with

harder men than he. I hope he may came in my way, that I may dress his

skin for him."

The farmer to whom he said this shook his head. "You don't know of whom

you are speaking. If you were to kill him you would be well off,--six

marks of silver were set on his head, and Thorir of Garth has added

three more, so that there stand on him nine marks of silver."

"All things can be done for money," said Gisli; "and as I am a merchant

I'll see to it. And when we meet--I'll dress his skin for him."

The farmer said it would be well not to talk about the matter. Gisli

agreed. "I will abide this winter in Snowfell-ness," he said. "If his

lair is on my road thither I'll look out for him, and dress his skin as

I go along."

Now, whether he talked in spite of the caution given him, or whether

some one overheard what he said, who was a friend of Biorn of Holm, is

uncertain. Any how Gisli's threat reached the ears of Biorn, who at

once warned Grettir to be on his guard against the merchant.

"If he comes your way," said Biorn, "teach him a lesson; but don't kill

him."

"No," said Grettir with a grim smile, "I'll merely dress his skin for

him."

Now it happened one day that Grettir was looking out of the entrance to

his lair, when he saw a man with two attendants riding along the

highway. His kirtle was of scarlet, and his helmet and shield flashed

in the sun. Then it occurred to him that this must be the dandified

Gisli, of whom he had heard, so he came running down the shale descent

to the road. He reached the man, and at once he went to his horse,

clapped his hand on a bundle of clothes behind the saddle, and said,

"This I am going to take."

"Nay, not so," answered Gisli, for it was he. "You do not know whom you

are addressing."

"Nor do I care," said Grettir. "I have little respect for persons. I

am in poor and lowly condition myself, so low that I am driven to be a

highway robber."

Then Gisli drew his sword, and called to his men to attack Grettir, who

gave way a little before them. But he soon saw that Gisli kept behind

his servants, and never risked himself where the blows fell; so Grettir

put the two churls aside with well-dealt strokes, and went direct upon

the merchant, who, seeing that he was menaced, turned and took to his

heels. Grettir pursued him, and Gisli in his fear cast aside his

shield, then, a little further, threw away his helmet, and so as he ran

he cast away one thing after another that he had with him. There was a

heavy purse of silver at his girdle. This encumbered him, and as he ran

he unbuckled his belt and dropped it and the purse with it. Grettir did

not purposely come up with him; he could have outstripped him had he

willed, but he let the fellow run a couple of horse lengths before him.

The end of the Fell is above an old lava bed that has flowed from a

crater called Eldborg or the Castle of Fire, and like an old ruined

castle it looks. Gisli ran over this lava bed, jumping the cracks, then

dived through a wood of birch that intervened between the lava and the

river Haf. The stream was swollen with ice, and ill to ford. Gisli

halted hesitating before plunging in, and that allowed Grettir to run in

on him, seize him and throw him down.

"Are you the Gisli who were so eager to meet Grettir Asmund's son?"

asked the outlaw.

"I have had enough of him," gasped the fallen man. "Keep my saddle-bags

and what I have thrown away, and let me go free."

"Hardly yet," said Grettir grimly. "I think something was said about

skin-dressing, that is not to be overlooked."

Then Grettir drew him back to the wood, took a good handful of birch

rods, pulled Gisli's clothes up over his head, and laid the twigs

against his back in none of the gentlest fashion. Gisli danced and

skipped about, but Grettir had him by his garments twisted about his

head and neck, and continued to flog till the poor fellow threw himself

down on the ground screaming. Then Grettir let go, and went quietly

back to his lair, picking up as he went the purse and the belt, the

shield, casque, and whatever else Gisli had thrown away, also he had the

contents of his saddle-bags.

Gisli never came back to Fairwood Fell to ask for them. When he got on

his legs he ran up the river to where it was not so dangerous, swam it,

and reached a farmhouse, where he entreated to be taken in. There he

lay a week with his body swollen and striped; after which he went home,

and much was he laughed at for his adventure with Grettir.

*CHAPTER XXIX.*

*THE FIGHT ON THE RIVER.*

_Angry Farmers--A Large Band of Men--The Marshmen are Driven

Back--The Attacking Party Reinforced--Fighting in

Desperation--Wearied but Unwounded--The Song of Victory_

Now, whilst Grettir was on Fairwood Fell, favoured by Biorn of Hit-dale,

his presence after a while became unendurable to the bonders who lived

in the marshes. He had been for two winters in his den on the hill, and

when they saw that he intended to remain there a third winter, and rob

them of sheep and whatever he needed, then they took counsel together

how they might rid themselves of the annoyance.

One day in the winter of 1023, Grettir came down from his place of

vantage, and went over the marshes to a farm called Acres, and drove

away from it two bullocks fit for slaughtering, and several sheep, and

he had got on with them some way over the marshes, on his way to his

lair, before the farmer at Acres was aware of his loss; he had taken six

wethers beside from another farm named Brookbend. This angered the

farmers greatly, and they sent a message to the chief man of the

district, Thord at Hitness, and urged him to waylay Grettir before he

could reach his den. Thord shrank from doing anything; however, they

pressed him so much that at last he consented to let his son Arnor go

with them. Then messengers were sent throughout all the country side,

to every farmer who was concerned. And it was so planned that two

bodies of men should march to the taking of Grettir, one on the right,

the other on the left bank of the Hit River, so as to take him for

certain.

Grettir was soon aware that the country was roused. He was not alone,

he had two men with him--one the son of the farmer at Fairwood Fell,

with whom he was on good terms, the other a farm-servant. They advised

him to desert the cattle and sheep and run for it, cross the river and

take refuge in his place of vantage; but this Grettir was too proud to

do.

Presently he could see coming on behind him a large band of men, about

twenty in all, under Thorarin of Acres and Thorfin of Brookbend. Now,

as these were pursuing him over the marshes, up the opposite side of the

river came Arnor, the son of Thord of Hitness, and with him a farmer

named Biarni of Jorvi.

Grettir managed to reach the river before his enemies came up with him,

and he had also time to secure a place of vantage. This was a ness of

rock that ran out into the river, or round which the river swept, so

that he was protected by the water on all sides but one. Grettir said

to the two men with him, that they must guard his back, see that none

came up the sides in his rear, and then he took his short-sword in both

his hands, planted his feet wide apart on the rock, and prepared to sell

his life dear.

The party headed by Thorarin of Acres and Thorfin of Brookbend came up,

twenty in all,--but more were coming, for Thorarin had begun the pursuit

before all the farmers were collected, and he knew that a body of some

twenty or thirty more would arrive before long. Thorarin himself was an

old man, and he did not enter into the fray, but urged on his men.

The fight was hard. Grettir was not easily reached where he stood, and

he smote at all who approached. Some of the Marshmen fell, and several

were wounded. In vain did they attempt to dislodge him by combined

rushes, he drove them over the edge into the water, or cut them down

with his sword. At last his arm was weary, and he called to the

farmer's son to step into his place. He did so, and held the ground

valiantly, whilst Grettir rested. Then the party drew back,

discomfited. At that moment up came the fresh body of men under Thrand,

the brother of Thorarin of Acres, and Stonewolf of Lavadale. These

egged on their men eagerly, and they thought they would obtain an easy

victory, for Grettir had been fighting for some time, and was weary.

Then Thorarin of Acres called out and advised delay.

"For," said he, "the third party of men under Arnor and Biarni of Jorvi

have not come up on the other side of the river."

This piece of advice was rejected by the newcomers. What did they want

with more men? They were a large party, fresh and untired, and Grettir

had but two men with him, and they were wearied with fighting. So the

signal was given for the onslaught.

Then Grettir saw that he must either jump into the river, swim across,

and desert the sheep and bullocks he had driven there, or use almost

superhuman exertions to defend himself.

His position was, indeed, desperate; for, even if he did hold his own

against this second body of men, a third was on its way up the other

bank of the river to intercept him on his way up to the Fell. For one

moment he hesitated, and then was resolved. No, he would not run. He

would die there, and die only after having strewn the ground with his

foes. Foremost among his assailants was Stonewolf of Lavadale, and

Grettir made a sudden rush at him, and with a tremendous stroke of his

sword he clove his head down to the shoulders. Thrand, who sprang

forward to avenge him, Grettir struck on the thigh, and the blow took

off all the muscle, and he fell, crippled for life. Then Grettir fell

back to his place of safety, and dared others to come on. They sprang

out on the neck of rock, but would not meet his weapon, one after

another fell or was beaten back.

Then Thorarin cried out, and bade all draw off.

"The longer ye fight," said he, "the worse ye fare. He picks out what

men among you he chooses."

The party withdrew, and there were ten men fallen, and five had received

mortal wounds, or were crippled; and hardly one of the two parties was

without some hurt or other.

Grettir, moreover, was marvellously wearied, but had received no wounds

to speak of.

Now, hardly had the men withdrawn, carrying their dead and wounded, than

up came the third detachment under Arnor and Biarni, on the other side

of the river. There can be no question but that, had they crossed and

fallen on Grettir, he could not have defended himself longer, so

overcome was he with weariness; but Arnor knew that his father had

entered on the matter reluctantly, and he was discouraged by the

ill-success of the other companies. Consequently, he neither waded

through the river at the ford, a little higher, nor did he maintain his

ground and cut off Grettir's retreat. Instead, he withdrew with all his

men, and left Grettir to recover his strength, and cross and escape to

the Fell. This conduct of Arnor provoked much comment; and he was

accused of cowardice, an accusation that clung to him through life.

Even his father rebuked him, for the father saw what discredit he had

brought upon himself.

The point on the river Hit where this affray took place is still shown;

and is called Grettir's-point to this day.

When the fight was over Grettir and the two men went to the Fell, and as

they passed the farm the farmer's daughter came out of the door, and

asked for tidings.