"Brother holds to brother as hand clasps hand," answered Grettir, and so
they parted. All that summer he wandered about in wild places, shifting
his quarters repeatedly, and living how he could.
*CHAPTER XXXV.*
*ON THE ISLE.*
_Illugi will go to Drangey--Asdis gives Consent--Asdis
prophesies Woe--Within Sight of Drangey--Glaum becomes Grettir's
Servant--Thorwald rows Grettir to Drangey--Thorbiorn Hook--The
Bonders visit the Island--Grettir in Possession--An Inaccessible
Spot_
When summer was now over, and the first snow of winter began to fall,
when the days were rapidly shortening, and the sun had gone out of the
north to the south, where it began to move in a rapidly narrowing arc,
Grettir returned to Biarg and remained there a while. "But," says the
saga, "so great grew his fear in the dark that he durst go nowhere as
soon as dusk set in." We can see that the many years strain on his
nerves had broken them. Hunted about as a wild beast, always forced to
be on his guard, never able to sleep without fear of being murdered in
his sleep, the trial had told on him. This was now the winter of 1028.
He was aged but thirty-one; his strength of body was not abated, only
his nervous force. He had been in outlawry altogether fifteen years,
three for the slaying of Skeggi, then he had been outlawed by King Olaf
in 1016. On his return to Iceland he had been outlawed in 1017; this
was the eleventh year of his outlawry at the suit of Thorir of Garth, an
outlawry not only unjust, but according to general opinion illegal,
because he had been tried and sentenced in his absence, and without any
witnesses having been called to establish his guilt--condemned on
hearsay evidence, and he never allowed to defend himself.
Now Illugi, Grettir's sole surviving brother, was aged fifteen, and was
a very handsome, honest-looking boy.
"Grettir," said he, "you know what I said. I will go with you to
Drangey, if you will take me. I know not that I will be of much help to
you, but this I know, that I will be ever true to you, and will never
run from you so long as you stand up. Besides, I shall like to be with
you, for here at home we are ever in anxiety for news about you, always
fearing the worst; but if I am at your side, I shall know how you fare."
"I would rather have you with me than anyone else," answered Grettir.
"But I cannot take you unless our mother consent."
Then said Asdis, "Now I can see that I have the choice of evils. I can
ill spare Illugi; yet I know your trouble, Grettir, and that something
must be done for you. It grieves me, my sons, to see you both leave me;
yet I will not withhold my youngest from you, Grettir. It is right that
brother should help brother."
That rejoiced Illugi. Then Asdis gave her sons what things she thought
they might want on the island, and they made them ready to depart.
She led them outside the farm inclosure, and then she took farewell of
them, saying, "My two sons! There you depart from me, and I dreamed last
night that you left me for ever, and would fall together. What is fated
none may fly from. Never shall I see you again, either of you. Be it
so, that one fate overtake you both. In my dream I saw your bones
whitening on Drangey. Be careful and watchful. My dreams have troubled
me greatly. Above all beware of witchcraft. None can cope with the
craft of the old."
When she had said this she wept sore.
Then said Grettir, "Weep not, mother, for if we be set on with weapons
it will be said of thee that thou hadst men and not girls for thy
children. Live on well, and be hale."
So they parted. Grettir and Illugi went to their relatives and visited
them, never, however, staying long in any place, and so on by Swine
Lake, a long sheet of water in a shallow basin, to the Blend River. This
river is of the colour of milk and water, because it is so full of
undissolved snow, and milk and water is called Bland, _i.e._ Blend, in
Icelandic. Another river enters it that is called the Black Stream,
because of the dark colour of the water. Grettir turned up the valley
of the Black River and then over a pass by a pretty lake lying in a
mountain lap, down into a broad marshy valley in which are three or four
rivers, and boiling springs pouring forth clouds of steam on the
hill-slopes. The valley is commanded by a beautiful mountain peak,
called the Measuring Peak, because the natives thereabouts reckon
distances from it.
Grettir and Illugi went down this valley till they reached the sea, and
now there opened before them a glorious view of the fiord, extending out
north about forty miles, and from ten to fifteen miles across, between
mountains and precipitous cliffs. A little way back from the eastern
shore stood up the Unadals Jokull, crowned with perpetual snows and with
glaciers rolling down the sides, and on the west, close to the sea,
seeming to rise in a wall out of it and running up into fantastic peaks,
was the range of Tindastoll, famous for its cornelians and agates and
other precious stones. In the offing, fifteen miles out, right in the
midst of the fiord, stood up the isle of Drangey with sheer cliffs,
about which the sea perpetually danced and foamed.
Grettir and Illugi skirted the shore on the west. The wind was blowing
cold, and snow was driving before it, as they passed a farm. The farmer
stood in his door, and saw a great man stride by with an axe over his
shoulder, his hood thrown back, and his wild red hair blowing about in
the gale. "Verily," said the farmer, "that must be a strange fellow not
to cover his head with his hood in such weather as this." Near this
little farm the brothers stumbled upon a tall, thin man, dressed in rags
and with a very big head. They asked each other's names, and the fellow
called himself Glaum. He was out of work, and he went along with the
brothers chatting, and telling them all the gossip of the neighbourhood.
Then Glaum asked if they were in want of a servant, and Grettir gladly
accepted him, and the man became thenceforth his constant attendant. But
the fellow was a sad boaster, and most people thought him both a fool
and a coward. He was not fond of work, and he spent his time strolling
about the country picking up and retailing news.
Grettir and his brother and Glaum reached a farm called Reykir as the
day closed in, where was a hot spring in the farm paddock. The farmer's
name was Thorwald; and Grettir asked him to put him across in a boat to
Drangey. Thorwald shook his head and said, "I shall get into trouble
with those who have rights of pasturage on the island. I had rather
not."
Then Grettir offered him a bag of silver which his mother had given him,
and at the sight of this, Thorwald raised his eyebrows and thought that
he might perhaps do what was asked. The distance was just five miles.
So on a moonshiny night Thorwald got three of his churls and they rowed
Grettir and the two who went with him over. On reaching his destination
Grettir was well pleased with the spot, for it was covered with a
profusion of grass, and the sides were so precipitous that it seemed a
sheer impossibility for anyone to ascend it without the aid of the
rope-ladder that hung from strong staples at the summit. In summer the
place would swarm with sea-birds, and at the time there were eighty
sheep left on the island for fattening.
A good many farmers had rights of pasturage on the island. Hialti of
Hof was one, whose brother's name was Thorbiorn Hook, of whom more
hereafter. Another was Haldor, who lived at Head-strand; he had married
the sister of these brothers. Biorn, Eric, and Tongue-stone were the
names of three others.
Thorbiorn Hook was a hard-headed, ill-disposed fellow. His father had
married a second time, and there was no love lost between the stepmother
and Thorbiorn. It is said that one day as The Hook was sitting at
draughts, she passed, and looking over his shoulder laughed, because he
had made a bad move. Thorbiorn Hook thereupon said something abusive and
insulting; this so enraged her that she snatched up a draught-man, and
pressing it against his eye-socket, drove the eyeball out. He started
to his feet, and with the draught-board struck her over the head such a
blow that she took to her bed, and died of the injury. The Hook now
went from bad to worse, and leaving home settled at Woodwick on the
fiord, a small farm. It will be understood from this story that he was
a violent and brutal fellow, and that, indeed, the life in his father's
house had not been of an orderly description.
As many as twenty farmers claimed rights to turn out their sheep on
Drangey in summer. The way they managed it is the way still employed by
their successors. They take the sheep out in boats, and then put them
over their shoulders, with the feet tied under their chins, and so they
climb the rope-ladder, carrying the sheep up on their backs. Though all
these farmers claimed rights on Drangey, The Hook and his brother had
the largest share, that is to say, the right to turn out more sheep than
the rest.
Now, about the time of the winter solstice, that is just before Yule,
the bonders made ready to visit the island, and bring home their sheep
for slaughtering for the Christmas feasting. They rowed out in a large
boat, and on nearing the island were much surprised to see figures
moving on top of the cliffs. How anyone had got there without their
knowledge puzzled them, for Thorwald had kept his counsel, and told no
one what he had done for Grettir. They pulled hard for the
landing-place, where hung the ladder, but Grettir drew it up before they
landed.
The bonders shouted to know who were on the crags, and Grettir, looking
over, told his name and those of his companions. The farmers then asked
how he had got there? who had put him across?
Grettir answered, "If you very much wish to know, it was not one of you
below now speaking to us. It was someone else, who had a good boat and
a pair of lusty arms."
"Let us fetch our sheep away," called the bonders, "then you come to
land with us. We will not make you pay for the sheep you have eaten,
and we will do you no harm."
"Well offered," answered Grettir; "but he who takes keeps hold; and a
bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Believe me, I will not leave
this island till the time of my outlawry is expired, unless I be carried
from it dead."
The bonders were silenced, it seemed to them that they had got an ugly
customer on Drangey, to get rid of whom would be no easy matter; so they
rowed home, very ill-satisfied with the result of their expedition.
The news spread like wildfire, and was talked about all through the
neighbourhood. Thorir of Garth was the more embittered, because he
could see no way in which Grettir could be reached and overmastered in
this inaccessible spot.
*CHAPTER XXXVI.*
*OF GRETTIR ON HERON-NESS.*
_Grettir goes to Heron-ness--At the Games--The Hook's
Challenge--Amongst Strangers--The Oath of Safe-conduct--An old
Formula--A Surprise for the Bonders--Regretting the Oath--The
two Brothers--Grettir returns to Drangey_
Winter passed, and at the beginning of summer the whole district met at
an assize held on the Herons'-ness, a headland in the Skaga-firth,
between the rivers that discharge into the fiord. It is, in fact, the
seaward point of a large island in the delta of the river that divides
about eight miles higher up, inland. The gathering was thronged, and
the litigations and merry-makings made the assize last over many days.
Grettir guessed what was going on by seeing a number of boats pass to
the head of the fiord. He became restless, and at last announced to his
brother that he intended being present at the assize, cost what it
might. Illugi thought it was sheer madness, but Grettir was resolute.
He begged his brother and Glaum to watch the ladder and await his
return.
Now, Grettir was on very good terms with the farmer at Reykir, and with
some others on that side of the firth, and they were not unwilling to
help him. Sometimes his mother sent things to the brothers that she
thought they would need, and then there were not wanting men to take
these over to the island. So Grettir got put across by his friend
Thorwald to the mainland, and he borrowed of him a set of old clothes,
and thus attired he went along the coast boldly to Heron-ness. He had
on a fur cap, which was drawn closely over his eyes, and concealed his
face, so that no one might recognize him. Now, in parts of Iceland, the
flies are such torments that men have to wear literally cloth helmets,
with only nose and eyes showing, the cloth fitting tight to the head,
and round over the ears and neck, exactly like a helmet, or a German
knitted sledging cap. When I was in Iceland, when the flies were
troublesome, I put my head into a butterfly net, and buckled it round my
neck tightly with a leather strap. Now, Grettir's cap was something
like those I have described, and no one was surprised at his wearing it,
as the whole of that valley is one vast marsh, and is infested with
flies that blacken the air and madden men and beasts.
Grettir thus attired sauntered between the booths erected on the
headland, till he reached the spot where games were going on.
Now, Hialti and Thorbiorn Hook were the chief men in these sports. Hook
was specially noisy and boisterous, and drove men together to the
sports, and whether men liked it or not, he insisted on their
attendance. He would take this man and that by the hands and drag him
forth to the field, where the wrestling and other games went on.
Now, first wrestled those who were weakest, and then each man in turn,
and great fun there was. But when most men had tried their strength
except the very strongest, it was asked who would be a match for Hialti
and The Hook. These two being the strongest and the roughest of all,
went round inviting each man in turn to wrestle with them, but all
declined.
Then Thorbiorn Hook, looking round, spied a tall fellow in the shabbiest
and quaintest of suits, sitting by himself, speaking to no one.
Thorbiorn walked up to him, laid his hands on his shoulders and asked
him to wrestle.
The man sat still, and The Hook could not drag him from his seat.
"Well!" exclaimed The Hook, "no one else has kept his place before me
to-day. Who are you?"
"Guest," answered Grettir shortly.
"A wished-for guest thou wilt be, if thou furnish some entertainment to
the company," said Thorbiorn Hook.
Grettir answered, "I am indisposed to make a fool of myself before
strangers. How am I to know, supposing that I give you a fall, that I
shall not be set upon by you or your kindred, and be unfairly treated?"
Then many exclaimed that there should be fair play.
"It is all very well your saying Fair-play now; but will you say
Fair-play, and stick to it, supposing I get the better of this man. You
are all akin, or friends, and I am a stranger to you all."
Again he was assured that no one would resent what he did.
"But see," said Grettir, "I have not wrestled for many years, and have
lost all skill in the matter."
Yet they pressed him the more.
Then he said, "I will wrestle with whom you will, if you will swear to
show me no violence so long as I am among you as a guest."
This all agreed to, and an oath of safe conduct was made, the form of
which is so curious that it must be given.
A man named Hafr recited the terms of the oath, and the rest agreed to
it.
"Here set I peace among all men towards this man Guest, who sits before
us, and in this oath I bind all magistrates and well-to-do bonders, and
all men who bear swords, and all men whatsoever in this district,
present or absent, named or unnamed. These are to show peace to, and
give free passage to the aforenamed stranger, that he may sport,
wrestle, make merry, abide with us and depart from us, without stay,
whether he go by land or flood. He shall have peace where he is, in all
places where he may be till he reaches his house whence he set out, so
long and no longer.
"I set this treaty of peace between him and us, our kinsmen male and
female, our servants and children. May the breaker of this compact be
cast out of the favour of God and good men, out of his heavenly
inheritance and the society of just men and angels. May he be an
outcast from land to its farthest limits, far as men chase wolves, as
Christians frequent churches, as heathen men offer sacrifices, as flame
burns, earth produces herb, as baby calls its mother, and mother rocks
her child; far as fire is kindled, ships glide, lightnings flicker, sun
shines, snow lies, Finns slide on snow-shoes, fir-trees grow, falcons
fly on a spring day with a breeze under their wings; far as heaven
bends, earth is peopled, winds sweep the water into waves, churls till
corn; he shall be banished from churches and the company of Christian
men, from heathen folk, from house and den, from every house--save hell!
Now let us be agreed whether we be on mountain or shore, on ship or
skate, on ground or glacier, at sea or in saddle, as friend with friend,
as brother with brother, as father with son, in this our compact. Lay
we now hand to hand, and hold we true peace and keep every word of this
oath."
Now, this formula is very curious. It must have been brought by the
Icelandic settlers with them from Norway, for parts of it are
inappropriate to their land. There are no Finns there, nor do fir-trees
grow there, nor is any corn tilled. But all that about Christians is of
later origin.
After a little hesitation the oath was taken by all.
Then said Grettir, "You have done well, only beware of breaking your
oath. I am ready to do my part, without delay, to fulfil your wishes."
Thereupon he flung aside his hood and garments, and the assembled
bonders looked at each other, and were disconcerted, for they saw that
they had in their midst Grettir Asmund's son. They were silent, and
thought that they had taken the oath somewhat unadvisedly, and they
whispered the one into another, to find if there were not some loophole
by which they might evade the obligation to observe the oath.
"Come now," said Grettir, "let me know your purpose, for I shall not
long stand stripped. It will be worse for you than for me if you break
your oath, for it will go down in story to the end of time that the men
of Heron-ness swore and were perjured."
He received no answer. The chiefs moved away; some wanted to break the
truce, and argued that an oath taken to an outlaw was not legally
binding; others insisted that the oath must be observed. Then Grettir
sang:
"Many trees-of-wealth (_men_) this morn,
Failed the well-known well to know,
Two ways turn the sea-flame-branches (_men_),
When a trick on them is tried;
Falter folk in oath fulfilling,
Hafr's talking lips are dumb."
Then Tongue-stone said, "You think so, do you, Grettir? Well, I will
say this of you, you are a man of dauntless courage. Look how the
chiefs are deep in discussion how to deal with you."
Then Grettir sang:
"Shield-lifters (_men_) rubbing of noses,
Shield-tempest-senders (men) shake beards,
Fierce-hearted serpent's-lair-scatterers (_men_),
Lay their heads one 'gainst another,
Now that they know, are regretting
The peace they have sworn to to-day."
In these staves a number of periphrases for men or warriors are
used--and the use of these periphrases constitute the charm of these
verses.
Then Hialti of Hof burst away from the rest, and said, "No, never, never
shall it be said of us men of Heron-ness, that we have broken an oath
because we have found it inconvenient to keep it. Grettir shall be at
full liberty to go to his place in peace, and woe betide him who lays
hand on him, to do him an injury. But an oath no longer binds us should
he venture ashore again."
All except Thorbiorn Hook, Hialti's brother, agreed to this, and felt
their minds and consciences relieved, that he had spoken out as a man of
honour. And thus was seen how of those two brothers, rude and violent
though both were, Hialti had some nobleness in him that was lacking in
the other.
The wrestling began by Grettir being matched with Thorbiorn Hook, and
after a very brief struggle Grettir freed himself from his antagonist,
leaped over his back, caught him by the belt, lifted him off his legs,
and flung him over his back. This is a throw called "showing the white
mare," among Cornish wrestlers of the present day, and a very dangerous
throw it is, for it sometimes breaks the back of the man thrown. The
Hook, however, picked himself up, and the wrestling continued with
unabated vigour, and it was impossible to tell which side had the
mastery, for, though Grettir was matched against both brothers, and
after each bout with one brother fell to with the other, he was never
thrown down. After all three were covered with blood and bruises the
match was closed, the judges deciding that the two brothers conjointly
were not stronger than Grettir alone, though they were each of them as
powerful as two ordinary able-bodied men.
Grettir at once left the place of gathering, rejecting all the
entreaties of the farmers that he would leave Drangey. And, so, after
all but The Hook had thanked him for his wrestling and praised his
activity and strength, he departed. He was put across from Reykir to
his island, and was received with open arms by Illugi.
There now they abode peaceably, and Grettir told his brother and his
churl Glaum the story of what had taken place at the assize, and thus
the summer wore away.
There was much talk through the island of Iceland about this adventure,
and all good men approved the conduct of the men of the Skagafiord that
they had kept the oath they had so inconsiderately taken.
*CHAPTER XXXVII.*
*OF HOERING'S LEAP.*
_The Piebald Ram--In want of Fire--Not born to be
Drowned--Thorwald aids Grettir--A Stratagem--Hoering climbs the
Cliff--Hoering's Leap_
The smaller farmers began seriously to feel their want of the islet
Drangey for pasture in summer, and, as there seemed no chance of their
getting rid of Grettir, they sold their rights to Thorbiorn Hook, who
set himself in earnest to devise a plan by which he might possess
himself of the island.
When Grettir had been two winters on the island, he had eaten all the
sheep except one piebald ram, with magnificent horns, which became so
tame that he ran after them wherever they went, and in the evening came
to the hut Grettir had erected and butted at the door till let in.
The brothers liked this place of exile, as there was no dearth of eggs
and birds, besides which, some drift-wood was thrown upon the strand,
and served as fuel.
Grettir and Illugi spent their days in clambering among the rocks, and
rifling nests, and the occupation of the thrall was to collect drift
timber and keep up the fire in the hut. He was expected to remain awake
and watch the fire whilst the others slept. He got very tired of his
life on the islet, became idle, morose, and reserved. One night,
notwithstanding Grettir's warnings to him to be more careful, as they
had no boat, he let the fire go out. Grettir was very angry, and told
Glaum that he deserved a sound thrashing for his neglect. The thrall
replied that he loathed the life he led; and that it seemed it was not
enough to Grettir that he should keep him there as a prisoner, he must
also maltreat him.
Grettir consulted his brother what was best to be done, and Illugi
replied that the only thing that could be done was to await the arrival
of a boat from the friendly farmer at Reykir.
"We shall have to wait long enough for that," said Grettir. "The
bonders have taken it ill that he has favoured us, and he is now
unwilling to be seen visiting Drangey. The only chance is for me to
swim ashore and secure a light."
"Do not attempt that!" exclaimed Illugi. "That is what you did in
Norway, and that led to all your misfortune."
"This case is different," answered Grettir. "Then I brought fire for
ill-conditioned men, now it is for ourselves. Then I knew not who was
on the other side, but now I can get the fire for the asking from
Thorwald."
"But the distance is so great!" remonstrated Illugi.
"Do not fear for me," said Grettir; "I was not born to be drowned."
From Drangey to Reykir is, as already said, about five English miles.
Grettir prepared for swimming, by dressing in loose thin drawers and a
sealskin hood; he tied his fingers together, that they might offer more
resistance to the water when he struck out.
The day was fine and warm. Grettir started in the evening, when the
tide was in his favour, setting in; and his brother anxiously watched
him from the rocks. At sunset he reached the land, after having floated
and swum the whole distance. Immediately on coming ashore, he went to
the warm spring and bathed in it, before entering the house. The hall
door was open, and Grettir stepped in. A large fire had been burning on
the hearth, so that the room was very warm; Grettir was so thoroughly
exhausted that he lay down beside the hot embers, and was soon fast
asleep. In the morning he was found by the farmer's daughter, who gave
him a bowl of milk, and brought her father to him. Thorwald furnished
him with fire, and rowed him back to the island, astonished beyond
measure at his achievement, in having swum such a distance.
Now, the farmers on the Skagafiord began to taunt Thorbiorn Hook with
his unprofitable purchase of the island, and Hook was greatly irritated
and perplexed what to do.
During the summer, a ship arrived in the firth, the captain of which was
a young and active man called Hoering. He lodged with Thorbiorn Hook
during the autumn, and was continually urging his host to row him out to
Drangey, that he might try to climb the precipitous sides of the island.
The Hook required very little pressing; and one fine afternoon he rowed
his guest out to Drangey, and put him stealthily ashore, without
attracting the notice of those on the height. For in some places the
cliffs overhung, so that a boat passing beneath could not be seen from
above. Now Hoering had lain in the bottom of the boat, covered with a
piece of sailcloth, so that the brothers saw nothing of him as the boat
was approaching the islet.
They saw and recognized Thorbiorn Hook and his churls, and at once drew
up the ladder. Now it was whilst they were watching at the
landing-place that Thorbiorn put Hoering out on another point, where the
cliffs seemed possible to be climbed by a very skilful man, and then
came on to the usual landing place, and there shouted to Grettir.
Grettir replied, and then Thorbiorn began the usual arguments to
persuade the outlaw to leave the isle. He promised to give him shelter
in his house the winter, if he would do so. All was in vain. What he
sought was to divert Grettir's attention so as to allow time and
occasion for Hoering to climb the cliffs unobserved and unresisted.
The discussion went on but led to nothing. In the meantime Hoering had
managed most cleverly to get up by a way never ascended by man before or
after; and when he came to the top and had his feet on the turf, he saw
where the brothers stood with their backs turned towards him, and he
thought that now an opportunity had come for him to make himself a great
name. Grettir suspected nothing, and continued talking to Thorbiorn,
who was getting, or feigning to get, angry, and used big and violent
words.
Now, as luck would have it, Illugi chanced to turn his head, and he saw
a man approaching from behind.
Then he cried out, "Brother! Brother! Here comes a man at us with
uplifted axe!"
"You go after him," said Grettir. "I will watch at the ladder."
So Illugi started to his feet and went to meet Hoering, and when the
young merchant saw that he was discovered, he fled away across the
islet, and Illugi went after him. And when Hoering came to the edge he
leaped down, hoping to fall into the sea; but he had missed his
reckoning, and he went upon some skerries over which the waves tossed,
and broke every bone in his body, and so ended his life. The spot is
called Hoering's Leap to this day.
Illugi came back, and Grettir asked him what had been the end of the
encounter. Illugi told him.
"Now, Thorbiorn," shouted Grettir; "we have had enough of profitless
talk. Go round to the other side of the island and gather up the
remains of your friend."
The Hook pushed off from the strand and returned home, ill pleased with
the result of the expedition, and Grettir remained unmolested on Drangey
the ensuing winter.
*CHAPTER XXXVIII.*
*OF THE ATTEMPT MADE BY GRETTIR's FRIENDS.*
_The New Law-man--The Outlawry almost at an End_
The ensuing summer, that is to say, the summer of 1031, at the great
annual assize at Thingvalla, all Grettir's kin and friends brought up
the matter of outlawry, and contended that he ought to have his sentence
done away with. They said that no man could be an outlaw all his life,
that was not a condition contemplated by their laws. They said that he
had been outlawed first in 1011 for the slaying of Skeggi, and that he
had been in outlawry ever since, which made nineteen years.
The old law-man was dead, and now there was another at the assize, whose
name was Stein. He laid down that no man might by law be in outlawry
more than twenty years. Now, when they came to reckon since 1011 it was
nineteen years. It was true that he had been outlawed thrice, once for
Skeggi, then by King Olaf, and lastly by the court for the burning of
the sons of Thorir of Garth, still--the fact remained that for nineteen
years he had been an outlaw, and Stein laid down that by next assize,
that is to say in one year, his outlawry would have expired.
Thereat Grettir's kinsfolk were pleased, for they thought that he would
only have to spend one winter more on Drangey, and afterwards his
troubles would be at an end; Thorir of Garth and his other foes could no
more pursue him, and the price set on his head would fall away.
But on the other hand, Thorir of Garth, who had not become more
charitable and forgiving as he grew old, became still more incensed and
impatient to have Grettir killed before this year would expire, also
Thorbiorn Hook cast about how he might be avenged for the deprivation of
his rights over Drangey. The men who had sold their claims came to
Thorbiorn, and told him he must do one of two things: get rid of Grettir
and assert his rights by turning out sheep on the islet, or they would
regard the sale as quashed, by his non-usance of the pasture, and they
would reclaim their shares of the island as soon as Grettir's outlawry
was at an end, and he left the place.
*CHAPTER XXXIX.*
*OF THE OLD HAG.*
_The Hook's Foster-mother--The Hag's Request--The Witch in the
Boat--The Hag's Dooming--An Unlucky Throw--Working Bane--The
Magic Runes_
Now it was so, that Thorbiorn Hook had a foster-mother, a woman advanced
in age, and of a very malicious disposition. When the people of Iceland
accepted Christianity, she, in her heart, remained a heathen, and would
not be baptized and have anything to do with the new religion. She had
always been reckoned a witch, but with the introduction of Christianity
witchcraft had been made illegal, and anyone who had recourse to sorcery
was severely dealt with. The old woman had not forgotten her
incantations and strange ceremonies, whereby she thought to be able to
conjure the spirits of evil, and send ill on such as offended her.
When Thorbiorn Hook found that he could contrive in no way to get
Grettir out of Drangey, and when he saw that if his expulsion were
delayed, and Grettir left of his own accord, he would forfeit the money
he had paid for the rights of pasturage on the island, he went to his
foster-mother, and told her his difficulty, and pretty plainly let her
understand that as he could get help nowhere else, he did not mind
having recourse to the black art.
"Ah!" cackled she, "I see how it is, when all else fails, man's arms and
man's wit, then you come to the bed-ridden crone and seek her aid.
Well, I will assist you to the best of my power, on one condition, and
that is, that you obey me without questioning."
The Hook agreed to what she said, and so all rested till August without
the matter being again alluded to.
Then one beautiful day the hag said to Thorbiorn, "Foster-son, the sea
is calm and the sky bright, what say you to our rowing over to Drangey
and stirring up the old strife with Grettir? I will go with you and
hear what he says, then I shall be able to judge what fate lies before
him, and I can death-doom him accordingly."
The Hook answered, "It is waste of labour going out to Drangey. I have
been there several times and never return better off than when I went."
"You promised to obey me without questioning," said the crone. "Follow
my advice and all will be well for you and ill for Grettir."
"I will do as you bid me, foster-mother," said Thorbiorn, "though I had
sworn not to go back to Drangey till I was sure I could work the bane of
Grettir."
"That man is not laid low hastily, and patience is needed; but his time
will come, and may be close at hand. What the end of this visit will be
I cannot say. It is hid from me, but I know very well that it will lead
to his or to your destruction."
Thorbiorn ran out a long boat, and entered it with twelve men. The hag
sat in the bows coiled up amongst rugs and wadmal. When they reached
the island, at once Grettir and Illugi ran to the ladder, and Thorbiorn
again asked if Grettir would come to his house for the winter.
Grettir made the same reply as before, "Do what you will, in this spot I
await my fate."
Now Thorbiorn saw that this expedition also was likely to be resultless,
and he became very angry. "I see," he said, "that I have to do with an
ill-conditioned churl, who does not know how to accept a good offer when
made. I shall not come here again with such an offer."
"That pleases me well," said Grettir, "for you and I are not like to
come to terms that will satisfy both."
At that moment the hag began to wriggle out of her wraps in the bows.
Grettir had not perceived her hitherto. Now she screamed out, "These
men may be strong, but their strength is ebbing. They may have had
luck, but luck has left. See what a difference there is between men.
Thorbiorn makes good offers, and such they blindly, foolishly reject.
Those who are blinded and cast away chances do not have chances come to
them again. And now Grettir"--she raised her withered arms over her
head--"I doom you to all ill, I doom you to loss of health, to loss of
wisdom and of foresight. I doom you to decline and to death. I doom
your blood to fester, and your brain to be clouded. I doom your marrow
to curdle and chill. Henceforth, so is my doom, all good things will
wane from you, and all evil things will wax and overwhelm you. So be
it." As she spoke a shudder ran over Grettir's limbs, and he asked who
that imp was in the boat. Illugi told him he fancied it must be that
old heathen woman, the foster-mother of Thorbiorn Hook.
"Since the powers of evil are with our foes," said Grettir, "how may we
oppose them? Never before has anything so shaken me with presentiment
of evil as have the curses of this witch. But she shall have a reminder
of her visit to Drangey."
Thereupon he snatched up a large stone and threw it at the boat, and it
fell on the bundle of rags, in the midst of which lay the old hag. As
it struck there rose a wild shriek from the witch, for the stone had hit
and broken her leg.
"Brother!" exclaimed Illugi, "you should not have done this."
"Blame me not," answered Grettir gloomily. "It had been well had the
stone fallen on her head. But I trow the working of her curse is begun,
and what I have done has been because my understanding and wit are
already clouded."
On the return of Thorbiorn to the mainland the crone was put to bed, and
The Hook was less pleased than ever with his trip to the island. His
foster-mother, however, consoled him.
"Do not be discouraged," she said. "Now is come the turning-point of
Grettir's fortunes, and his luck will leave him more and more as the
light dies away up to Yule. But the light dies and comes again. With
Grettir it will not be so, it will die, and die, till it goes out in
endless night."
"You are a confident woman, foster-mother," said Thorbiorn.
When a month had elapsed, the old woman was able to leave her bed, and
to limp across the room.
One day she asked to be led down to the beach. Thorbiorn gave her his
arm, and she had her crutch, and she hobbled down to where the water was
lapping on the shingle. And there, just washed up on the beach, lay a
log of drift-timber, just large enough for a man to carry upon his
shoulder. Then she gave command that the log should be rolled over and
over that she might examine each side. The log on one side seemed to
have been charred, and she sent to the house for a plane, and had the
burnt wood smoothed away.
When that was done she dismissed every one save her foster-son, and then
with a long knife she cut runes on the wood where it had been
planed--that is to say, words written in the peculiar characters made of
strokes which Odin was supposed to have invented. Then she cut herself
on the arm, and smeared the letters she had cut with her blood. After
that she rose and began to leap and dance, screaming a wild spell round
the log, making the most strange and uncouth contortions, and waving her
crutch in the air, making with it mysterious signs over the log.
Presently, when the incantation was over, she ordered the log to be
rolled back into the sea. The tide was now ebbing, and with the tide
the log went out to sea further and further from land till Thorbiorn saw
it no more.
*CHAPTER XL.*
*HOW THE LOG CAME TO DRANGEY.*
_Food for the Winter--Cast up by the Sea--The Log comes back
again--The Worst is come--An ugly Wound--The Hag's
Revenge--Grettir sings his Great Deeds--Presage of Evil_
In the meantime Grettir, Illugi, and the churl Glaum were on Drangey
catching fish and fowl for winter supplies. The fish in Iceland are
beaten hard with stones and then dried in the wind, that makes them like
leather; but it preserves them for a very long time, and they form the
staple of food, as the people have no corn, and consequently no bread.
They put butter on these dry fish, and tear them with their teeth. What
Grettir did with the fowl he caught was to pickle them with salt water
from the sea, and when the frost and snow came on then he would take
them out of pickle and freeze them. Now, the whole of the sheep had
been eaten some time ago, except the old mottled ram, which Grettir
could not find in his heart to kill; and, as may be supposed, he and his
brother suffered from want of change of food. Especially deficient were
they in any green food; and we know, though he did not, that the eating
of green food is a very essential element of health. He had nothing for
consumption but salted birds and dried fish--no milk, no bread, no
vegetables. Such a diet was certain to disorder his health.
The day after that on which the hag had charmed the piece of timber, the
two brothers were walking on the little strand to the west of the island
looking for drift-wood.
"Here is a fine beam!" exclaimed Illugi. "Help me to lift it on to my
shoulder, and I will carry it up the ladder."
Grettir spurned the log with his foot, saying, "I do not like the looks
of it, Little brother. Runes are cut on it, and what they portend I do
not know. There may be written there something that may bring ill. Who
can tell but this log may have been sent with ill wishes against us."
They set the log adrift, and Grettir warned his brother not to bring it
to their fire.
In the evening they returned to their cabin, and nothing was said about
the log to Glaum. Next day they found the same beam washed up not far
from the foot of the ladder. Grettir was dissatisfied, and again he
thrust it from the shore, saying that he hoped they had seen the last of
it, and that the stream and tide would catch it and waft it elsewhere.
And now the equinoctial gales began to rage. The fine Martinmas summer
was over. The weather changed to storm and rain; and so bad was it that
the three men remained indoors till their supply of firewood was
exhausted.
Then Grettir ordered the thrall to search the shore for fuel. Glaum
started up with an angry remonstrance that the weather was not such as a
dog should be turned out in, with unreason, not considering that a fire
was as necessary to him as to his master. He went to the ladder,
crawled down it, and found the same beam cast at its very foot.
Glad not to have to go far in his search, Glaum shouldered the log,
crept up the ladder, bore it to the hut, and throwing open the door,
cast it down in the midst.
Grettir jumped up, "Well done," said he, "you have been quick in your
quest."
"Now I have brought it, you must chop it up," said Glaum. "I have done
my part."
Grettir took his axe. The fire was low and wanted replenishing, and
without paying much attention to the log, he swung his axe and brought
it down on the log. But the wood was wet and greasy with sea-weed, and
the axe slipped, glanced off the beam, and cut into Grettir's leg below
the knee, on the shin, with such force that it stuck in the bone.
Grettir looked at the beam; the fire leaped up, and by its light the
runic inscription on it was visible. Grettir at once saw evil. "The
worst is come upon us," he said sadly, as he cast the axe away, and
threw himself down by the fire. "This is the same log that I have twice
rejected. Glaum, you have done us two ill turns, first when you
neglected the fire and let it go out, and now in that you have brought
this beam to us. Beware how you commit a third, for that I foresee will
be your bane as well as ours."
Illugi bound up his brother's wound with rag; there was but a slight
flow of blood, but it was an ugly gash. That night Grettir slept
soundly. For three days and nights he was without pain, and the wound
seemed to be healing healthily, the skin to be forming over it.
"My dear brother," said Illugi, "I do not think that this cut will
trouble you long."
"I hope not," answered Grettir. "But none can see where a road leads
till they have gone through to the end."
On the fourth evening they laid them down to sleep as usual. About
midnight the lad, Illugi, awoke hearing Grettir tossing in his bed as
though suffering.
"Why are you so uneasy?" asked the boy.
Grettir replied that he felt great pain in his leg, and he thought, he
said, that some change must have taken place in the condition of the
wound.
Illugi at once blew up the embers on the hearth into a flame, and by its
light examined his brother's leg. He found that the foot was swollen
and discoloured, and that the wound had reopened, and looked far more
angry than he had seen it yet. Intense pain ensued, so that poor Grettir
could not remain quiet for a moment, but tossed from side to side. His
cheeks were fevered, and his tongue parched. He could obtain no sleep
at all.
Illugi never left him, he sat beside him holding his hand, or bringing
him water to slake his unquenchable thirst.
"The worst approaches, and there is no avoiding it," said Grettir.
"This sickness is sent by the old witch in revenge for the stone I had
cast at her."
"I misliked the casting of that stone," said Illugi.
"It was ill that it did not fall on her head," said Grettir. "But what
is done may not be undone." Then he heaved himself up into a sitting
posture and sang, supporting himself against his brother's shoulder, a
lay, of which only fragments have come down to us. A good deal of the
lay refers to incidents in Grettir's life, of which no record remains in
the saga, and many staves have fallen away and been lost. So we give
but a few verses:--
"I fought with the sword in the bye-gone day,
In the day when I was young;
When the Rovers I slew in old Norway,
The land with my action rung.
"I entered the grave of Karr the Old,
I rived his sword away;
I strove with the Troll at Thorod's-stead,
Before the break of day.
"With Thorbiorn Oxmain in the marsh
I fought, and his blood I shed;
Against Thorir of Garth have I stood in arms,
Who long would have me dead.
"For nineteen years, I a hunted man,
On mountain, on moor, and fen;
For nineteen years had to shun and flee
The face of my fellow men.
"For nineteen years all bitter to bear
Both hunger and cold and pain;
And never to know when I laid me down,
If I might awake again.
"And now do I lie with a burning eye,
As a wolf is fain to die;
Whilst the skies are dripping and ocean roars,
And the winds sob sadly by--"
The song was probably composed before, as otherwise it is not easy to
account for its preservation. His head was burning, his thoughts
wandered, and he ceased singing. He seemed to be dozing off. But
presently he started and shivered, and looked hastily about him.
"Let us be cautious now," he said, "for Thorbiorn Hook will make another
attempt. To me it matters little--but to you, brother. Glaum, watch
the ladder by day, and draw it up at night. Be a faithful servant, for
now all depends on you. Illugi will not leave me, so we are in your
hands."
*CHAPTER XLI.*
*THE END OF THE OUTLAW.*
_The Shadow of Death--Thorbiorn and his Foster-mother--The Hook
sails for Drangey--Out in the Gale--The Unguarded Ladder--Glaum
is Captured--The Brothers' last Evening--Defending the
Hut--Grettir Wounded--Illugi Taken--The Notch in the
Sword--Illugi vows Vengeance--Death of Illugi_
The weather became daily worse, and a fierce north-east wind raged over
the country, bearing with it cold and sleet, and covering the fells with
the first snows of winter. Grettir inquired every night if the ladder
had been drawn up, according to order. Glaum answered churlishly, "How
can you expect folk to live out in such a storm as this? Do you think
they are so eager to kill you that they will jeopardize their lives in
trying to do this? It is easy to see that a little cut was all that
lacked to let your courage leak out."
Grettir answered, "Go! and do not argue with us; guard the ladder as you
have been bidden!"
So Illugi drove the churl from the hut every morning, notwithstanding
his angry remonstrances; and Glaum was in the worst of humours.
The pain became more acute, and the whole leg inflamed and swollen,
signs of mortification appeared, and wounds opened in different parts of
the limb, so that Grettir felt that the shadow of death hung over him.
Illugi sat night and day with his brother's head on his shoulder,
bathing his forehead, and doing his utmost to console the fleeting
spirit. A week had elapsed since the wound had been made.
Now, Thorbiorn Hook was at home, ill-pleased at the failure of all his
schemes for dispossessing Grettir of the island.
One day his foster-mother came to him, and asked whether he were ready
now to pay his final visit to the outlaw?
Thorbiorn replied that he had paid quite as many visits to him as he
liked, and that he should not go to Drangey again till Grettir left it;
and then, with a sneer he asked his foster-mother whether she wanted to
have her second leg broken, and was not satisfied with the fracture of
one.
"I will not go to Drangey myself," answered the old woman. "That is
unnecessary. I have sent him my salutation, and by this he has received
it. Speed away now to Drangey, and find how he relishes my message.
But I warn you, you must go now or you will be too late."
Thorbiorn would not listen; he said that her advice last time had led to
no advantage when he followed it, and that the weather was too bad to go
out in.
"You need go but this once," said the crone. "The storm is of my
sending, and is sent to work my ends."
Finally he allowed himself to be persuaded. So he got together men, and
asked his neighbours to help him; and a large vessel was manned. That
is to say, the other farmers consented to lend him men, but none of them
would accompany him themselves. The Hook took twelve of his own men;
his brother, Hialti, lent him three; Erick of Gooddale sent one man;
Tongue-stone furnished him with two; another, named Halldor, let him
have six. Of all these, the only two whose name need be mentioned are
Karr and Vikarr.
Thorbiorn got a large sailing-boat for his purpose, and started from
Heron-ness. None of the men were in good spirits, as the weather was
bad; moreover, they had no liking for their leader. By dusk the boat
was afloat, the sail spread, and they ran out to sea. As the wind was
from the north-east, they were under the lee of the high cliffs, and
were not exposed to the full violence of the storm.
Heavy scuds of rain and sleet swept the fiord; the sky was overcast with
whirling masses of vapour, charged with snow, and beneath their shadow
the waters of the firth were black as ink. For one moment the clouds
were parted by the storm, the rowers looked up, and saw the heavens
tinged with the crimson rays of the northern light. A flame ran along
the cordage, and finally settled on the masthead of the vessel, swaying
and dancing with the motion of the boat. It was that electric spark,
which is called in the Mediterranean S. Elmo's fire.
A line of white foam marked the base of Drangey; and now and then a
great wave from the mouth of the fiord boomed against the crags, and
shot in spouts of foam high into the air. Along the western shore of
the firth, which was exposed to the full brunt of the gale, the mighty
billows were beaten into white yeasty heaps of water. From the top of
Drangey one tiny spark shone from the window of the hovel where lay the
dying outlaw.
Now let us look again at Grettir.
He had been in less pain that day. Illugi had not left him, but
remained faithful at his post.
The thrall, Glaum, had been sent out as usual to collect fuel and to
watch the ladder, and to draw it up at nightfall. But instead of doing
as he was bidden, the fellow laid himself down at the head of the steps,
under a shelter-hut of turf that had been there erected, and went to
sleep.
When Thorbiorn and his party reached the shore, they found to their
content that the ladder had not been removed.
"Good luck attends on those who wait," said The Hook "Now, my fellows!
the journey will not prove as bootless as you expected. Up the ladder
with you! and let us all be cautious and bold!"
So they ascended, one after the other, The Hook taking the lead. On
reaching the top he looked into the shelter-hut, and there found Glaum,
asleep and snoring. Thorbiorn struck him over the shoulders, and asked
him who he was.
Glaum turned on his side, rubbed his eyes, and growled forth, "Can you
not leave a poor wretch alone? Never was a man so ill-treated as am I.
I may not even sleep out here in the cold."
The Hook then knew who this was. "Fool!" shouted he. "Look up, and see
who are come. We are your foes, and intend to kill every one of you."
Glaum started now to his feet full awake, and shrieked with dismay when
he saw the black figures crowding up from the ladder and surrounding
him.
"Make no noise," said Thorbiorn Hook. "I give you the choice of two
things; answer the questions I put to you truthfully, or die at once."
The churl answered sullenly that he would speak, and he had nothing to
conceal.
"Then tell me where the brothers are?"
"In the hovel I left them, where there is a fire. Not out in the cold.
Grettir is sick and nigh on death, and Illugi is with him."
The Hook asked for particulars, and then Glaum told him about the log,
and how Grettir was wounded. Thereat the Hook burst out laughing, and
said, "Woe to the man that leans on a churl! That is a true proverb.
Shamefully have you betrayed your trust, Glaum."
Thereupon Glaum was dragged along to the cabin where Grettir lay, and
they treated him so roughly, that what with their blows and what with
fear, he was nearly senseless when he reached it.
Illugi had been sitting by the fire with his brother's head in his lap,
whilst Grettir lay in some sheepskins beside the hearth. All that
evening the sick man's eyes had been wandering about the roof, watching
the light play among the rafters, as the firewood blazed up or
smouldered away. Illugi saw that his fingers plucked at the wool of the
sheep-skins, riving it out, and that he knew was a bad sign. He felt
sure that Grettir would die that night, and he watched his face
intently, and could not bear to withdraw his eyes from him, for he loved
him dearly. Presently Grettir turned his head, and smiled when he saw
how he was watching him, and said that he felt easier, and would sleep.
In a few moments his eyes closed.
As he dozed, his face became calmer than Illugi had seen it before; the
muscles relaxed, and the wrinkles furrowed in his brow by care and
suffering were now smoothed quite away. Grettir's face was never
handsome, but it was grave and earnest, and the sorrow and trial he had
passed through had left its trace on his features. His breath now came
more evenly in sleep.
All at once there sounded a crash at the door, and the sleeper opened
his eyes dreamily.
"It is only the old ram, brother," said Illugi. "He is butting, because
he wants to come in."
"He butts hard! he butts hard!" muttered Grettir, and at that moment the
door burst open. They saw faces looking in.
Illugi was on his feet in a moment. He seized his sword, flew to the
doorway and defended it bravely, so that no one could pass through.
Thorbiorn called to some of the men to get upon the roof, and he was
obeyed. The hovel was low, and in a moment four or five were on top of
it tearing off the turf that covered it. Grettir tried to rise to his
feet, but could only stagger to his knees. He seized his spear and drove
it through the roof, so that it struck Karr in the breast, and the wound
was his death.
Thorbiorn Hook called to the men to act more warily--they were
twenty-five in all against two men, and one dying.
So the men pulled at the gable ends of the house and got the ridge-piece
out, that it broke and fell, and with it a shower of turfs, into the
hut.
Grettir drew his short-sword--the sword he had taken from the barrow of
Karr the Old--and smote at the men as they leaped upon him from the
wall. With one blow he struck Vikarr over the left shoulder, as he was
on the point of springing down. The sword cut off his arm. But the blow
was so violent, that Grettir, having dealt it, fell forward, and before
he could raise himself Thorbiorn Hook struck him between the shoulders,
and made a fearful wound.
Then cried Grettir, "Bare is the back without brother behind it!" and
instantly Illugi threw his shield over him, planted one foot on each
side of him as he lay on the floor, and defended him with desperate
courage.
[Illustration: ILLUGI DEFENDS THE DYING GRETTIR.]
The mist of death was in Grettir's eyes; he attempted in vain to raise
himself, but sank again on the sheep-skins, which were now drenched in
blood.
No one could touch him, for the brave boy warded off every blow that was
aimed at his brother.
Then Thorbiorn Hook ordered his men to form a ring round and close in on
them with their shields and with beams. They did so, and Illugi was
taken and bound; but not till he had wounded most of his opponents, and
had killed three of Thorbiorn's men.
"Never have I seen one braver of your age," said The Hook. "I will say
that you have fought well."
Then they went to Grettir, who lay where he had fallen, unable to resist
further, for he had lost consciousness. They dealt him many a blow, but
hardly any blood flowed from his wounds. When all supposed he was dead,
then Thorbiorn tried to disengage the sword from his cold fingers,
saying that he considered Grettir had wielded it long enough. But the
strong man's hand was clenched around the handle so firmly that his
enemy could not free the sword from his grasp.
Several of the men came up, and tried to unweave the fingers, but were
unable to do so. Then the Hook said, "Why should we spare this wretched
outlaw? Off with his hand!" And his men held down the arm whilst
Thorbiorn hewed off the hand at the wrist with his axe.
After that, standing over the body, and grasping the hilt of the sword
in both hands, he smote at Grettir's head; the edge of the blade was
notched by the blow.
"Look!" laughed Thorbiorn. "This notch will be famous in story for many
generations; for men will point to it and say, 'This was made by
Grettir's skull.'" He struck twice and thrice at the outlaw's neck,
till the head came off in his hands.
"Now have I slain a notable man!" exclaimed Thorbiorn. "I will take
this head with me to land, and claim the price that was set on it; and
none shall deny that it was my hand that slew that Grettir whom all else
feared."
The men present said he might say what he liked, but that they believed
Grettir was already dead when he smote him.
Thorbiorn now turned to Illugi, and said, "It is a pity that a brave lad
like you should die, because you are associated with outlaws and
evil-doers."
"I tell you this," said Illugi, "that I will appear before you at the
great assize, and there will charge you with having practised witchcraft
to effect my brother's death."
"You hearken to me, boy," said Thorbiorn. "Put your hand to mine, and
swear that you will not seek to avenge the death of your brother, and I
will let you go; but if you will not take this oath, you shall die."
"And hearken to me, Thorbiorn," said lllugi. "If I live, but one thought
shall occupy my heart night and day, and that will be how I may best
avenge my brother. Now that you know what to expect of me--take what
course you will."
Thorbiorn drew his companions aside to ask their advice; but they
shrugged their shoulders, and replied that, as he had planned the
expedition, he must carry it out as he thought best.
"Well," said The Hook, "I have no fancy for having the young viper lying
in wait to sting me wherever I tread. He shall die."
Now, when Illugi knew that they had determined on slaying him, he smiled
and said, "You have chosen that course which is best to my mind. I do
not desire to be parted from my brother."
The day was breaking. They led Illugi to the east side of the island,
and there they slew him.
It is told that they neither bound his eyes nor his hands, and that he
looked fearlessly at them when they smote him, and neither changed
colour nor even blinked.
Then they buried the brothers beneath a cairn in the island, but they
took the head of Grettir and bore it to land. On the way they also slew
the thrall Glaum.
*CHAPTER XLII.*
*HOW ASDIS RECEIVED THE NEWS.*
_A Charge of Witchcraft--A Heroic Mother--Thorbiorn's
Sentence--Burial of the Brothers_
Had the old hag, Thorbiorn's foster-mother, any hand in the death of
Grettir? Certainly none. It was true that Grettir was wounded in the
way described, by his own axe, but the condition of the wound was due to
the scorbutic condition of his blood, through lack of green food. This
the Icelanders did not understand; they could not comprehend how a wound
could seem to be healing well and then break out and mortify afterwards,
and they supposed that this was due to witchcraft. Then, again,
Grettir's kin could not take the case of Grettir's murder into court,
because Thorbiorn had acted within the law when killing him; but by
charging him with the practice of witchcraft they made him amenable to
the law. So, partly, no doubt, in good faith, they trumped up against
Thorbiorn the accusation of having effected Grettir's death by
witchcraft.
Now, it must be told how that, one day after the slaying of Grettir,
Thorbiorn Hook at the head of twenty armed men rode to Biarg, in the
Midfirth-dale, with Grettir's head slung from his saddlebow. On reaching
the house he dismounted and strode into the hall, where Grettir's mother
was seated with a servant. Thorbiorn threw her son's head at her feet,
and said: "See! I have been to the island and have prevailed."
The lady sat proudly in her seat, and did not shed a tear; but lifting
her voice in reply, she sang:
"Milk-sop--as timid sheep
Before a fox all cow'ring keep;
So did you--nor could prevail
So long as Grettir's strength was hale.
Woe is on the Northland side,
Nor can I my loathing hide!"
After this The Hook returned home, and folk wondered at Asdis, saying
that only a heroic mother could have had sons so heroic. When Yule was
over The Hook rode east away to Garth, and told Thorir what he had done,
and claimed the money set on Grettir's head.
But Thorir was crafty, and just as the Biarg folk sought a charge
against Thorbiorn for his deed, so did Thorir, that he might escape
having to pay the silver. He answered, "I do not deny that I offered
the money on Grettir's head, promising it to whomsoever should slay
Grettir, but I will pay nothing to him who compassed his death by
witchcraft; and if what the men who went with you say be true, you did
not slay him with a sword, but hacked off his head after he was dead."
This made Thorbiorn Hook very angry, and when summer came he brought his
suit against Thorir for the money. But simultaneously Grettir's kin
brought a charge against Thorbiorn for having practised witchcraft.
Also they had a summons against him for the slaying of Illugi. Now, the
case was tried, and hotly discussed, and it ended this way:--It was
judged that Thorbiorn had struck off the head of a man who was already
dead, and that he had brought about the death of that man by witchcraft;
thereupon it was judged that he should receive nothing of the money, and
that he should be outlawed from Iceland.
So he went away and never returned.
Now, Grettir and Illugi were brought to land, and their bones lie at
Reykir, where was the friendly farmer who had helped them when they were
at Drangey. But Grettir's head was buried at Biarg. There is now no
church or churchyard there, but there is a mound in the _tun_ where his
head is said to lie. I obtained leave to dig there, and I examined the
spot, but found only a great stone under the turf, and this we had not
the appliances to move. And perhaps it was as well; for if Grettir's
head be there, it were better that there it should rest undisturbed.
*CHAPTER XLIII.*
*HOW DROMUND KEPT HIS WORD.*
_Thorbiorn Hook in Norway--Dromund on Thorbiorn's Track--The
Varangians--Grettir's Sword--Grettir is Avenged_
Now, after that Thorbiorn Hook had been outlawed, he found that he had
gotten to himself no advantage, but great harm by what he had done upon
Drangey. He was forced to leave Iceland; and he saw, withal, that never
again might he set foot therein again with safety, for all the relatives
of the Biarg family would seek his life. Accordingly he made over his
farm at Woodwick to his brother Hialti, and also all his rights over the
island of Drangey, such as they were. Then he collected together what
moveable goods he had, and went on board ship and sailed for Norway.
On reaching Norway he bragged much of what he had done in having slain
Grettir, of whom tales were told in Norway; and, as may well be
understood, he told the tale of the slaying of Grettir in his own way,
magnifying his heroism, and saying nothing about such matters as
lessened the greatness of his deed.
During the early winter tidings reached Thorstein Dromund at Tunsberg
that his brother Grettir was dead, and also that the man who slew him
was in the north of the country. When Dromund heard the tidings he was
very sorrowful, and he called to mind the words he had said to Grettir
when they showed each other what sort of arms they had. Dromund
considered that he was bound to avenge his brother's death on his
murderer.
Thorbiorn Hook also was aware that there was a half-brother of Grettir
in Norway, and when he knew that he was wary, for he suspected that
Dromund would seek his life. And, indeed, Thorstein Dromund sent spies
to watch Thorbiorn Hook; but the latter was so careful of himself that
Dromund was not able to attempt anything against him all that winter.
No sooner did the soft, warm, spring breezes begin to blow, than The
Hook got away out of Norway by the earliest opportunity. He had heard
much talk how that the Emperors of the East, at Constantinople, kept a
guard of Norsemen about them, and paid them well, and how that this
guard was held in high esteem. So Thorbiorn Hook considered he could
not do better than go to Constantinople, and try his fortune there. But
before he left Norway he talked of his intention, and this was reported
to Dromund at Tunsberg. So Dromund put his lands and affairs into the
hands of his kinsmen, and got ready for journeying in search of Hook,
whom he had never seen.
He sailed away after him, and wherever he came he made inquiries after
the ship in which Thorbiorn Hook had been, and he was always just too
late. He never could catch the ship up. And then finally Thorbiorn left
the vessel and journeyed overland, and Thorstein lost his traces.
However, Dromund knew that Thorbiorn Hook was going to Constantinople,
so he travelled thither also, and reached the imperial city. Now there
were a great many Norsemen and Icelanders there in the company called
the Varangians, who acted as a bodyguard to the Emperor, and among these
men were some twenty or more called Thorbiorn, and which among them was
the murderer of Grettir, Thorstein Dromund did not know. The Hook, as
may well be imagined, did not tell anyone what his nickname was; not
that he imagined he was pursued, but because it was not a pretty and
flattering name. Thorstein also offered himself as a soldier in the
guard, and was enrolled. He also merely gave his name as Thorstein, and
told no one of his nickname of Dromund, lest the man he pursued should
take alarm and leave.
So time passed, and Thorstein Dromund could not find out his man; and he
lay awake in bed many nights musing on what he had undertaken, on the
sad lot of Grettir, and on his ill-success in finding the murderer of
his half-brother. Now, it fell out that on a certain day the order came
to the Varangian guard that they were to be ready, as they were about to
be sent on an expedition of importance.
It was usual, before any such an expedition, that all the men of the
guard should burnish up their weapons and armour, and show them, that
they were in condition.
So was it on this occasion also. They were assembled in the guard-room,
and each produced his weapon. Then Thorbiorn held forth his
short-sword--the very weapon that Grettir had taken from the tomb of
Karr the Old, the sword with which he The Hook had hewed off Grettir's
head.
Now, when Thorbiorn held forth the sword all the other guardsmen praised
it, and said it was an excellent weapon; but it had one grievous
blemish, for that there was a notch in the edge.
"Oh!" laughed Thorbiorn, "that notch is no blemish at all. It is a
memorial of one of my greatest achievements."
"What was that?" asked one of the Varangians.
"With this sword," answered Thorbiorn, "I slew the man who was esteemed
the greatest and most powerful champion of his time; a man who was in
outlawry for twenty years, who had in his time fought and beaten off as
many as thirty or forty who attacked him. But I was too much for him.
When I went against him, then he had to give way. We fought for an hour
without flagging, and finally I smote him down. Then I took from him
his own sword, and with it I smote off his neck; and thus got the sword
its notch."
"And his name?" asked Thorstein Dromund.
"His name was Grettir the Strong."
There was a pause; and in that pause the sword was handed to Dromund for
him to look at.
"Thus is Grettir avenged!" suddenly exclaimed Dromund. He struck across
the table at Thorbiorn with Grettir's own sword; and so great was the
stroke that it smote through his skull to the jaw-teeth, and The Hook
fell without a word, dead.
It was said, in after times, that Grettir was wonderful in his life, and
wonderful in his death--for in life no man had been his equal in
strength, and had had a sadder span of life; and in death he was
wonderful--for of all Icelanders he was the only one who was avenged far
away from home by the shores of the Bosphorus, in the City of the
Emperors.
*EPILOGUE.*
_Date of Grettir's Death--Mention of Grettir in other
Sagas--Historical Basis of the Grettir Story_
In the Icelandic annals the death of Grettir is set down as having
occurred in 1033, but the dates are not quite correct, and the real date
should be 1031.
Grettir is mentioned in other Icelandic sagas. He is spoken of and his
pedigree given in the Landnama Book, the Icelandic Domesday, the most
reliable book for history they have. The persons spoken of in the saga
of Grettir are heard of in several other quite independent sagas, and in
no case is there any serious anachronism.
Grettir, it will be recalled, was taken by the farmers in the Ice-firth.
This incident is also related in the saga of the Foster-brothers; so is
another incident about a contest concerning a dead whale I have not
related, as likely to break the continuity of the history. In the saga
of Thord, the hero is said to have blessed the Middle-firth in these
words: "Let the man who grows up in this vale never be hung." And this
blessing was thought to have had something to do with the saving of
Grettir's neck in the Ice-firth. The story of Gisli has been told whom
Grettir whipped. Now, in the Viga-styr saga, the most ancient of all
Icelandic sagas, we hear of this same Gisli, and his character is
painted in the same colours as in the saga of Grettir, but no mention is
made of the whipping administered by Grettir. The murder of Atli, the
brother of our outlaw, and the consequent slaying of Thorbiorn Oxmain is
spoken of in the saga of Bard. The circumstance of Grettir having lived
in a cave on the farm in Hit-dale is spoken of in the saga of Biorn. In
the history of Grettir mention is made of the strife which took place
between Biorn and Thord, but the full particulars of what is there
alluded to casually are given in the saga of Biorn of Hit-dale. In our
saga, Grettir is spoken of as meeting Bard wounded after a hard fight,
in which he had avenged the death of his brother, but no particulars are
given. In the saga of the Heath-fights we recover the whole story. Thus
one saga explains and supports another.
It is therefore impossible to set down the story of Grettir as fabulous.
It is historical; but the history has been somewhat embellished, partly
by family vanity which led to the undue glorification of their hero, and
partly by superstition which imagined the marvellous where all was
really natural.