When Halfred again awoke he lay in the bottom of a small boat, which
drove over the open sea.
His hammer lay at his right hand. A cruise of water stood at his left
hand. Two oars were in the stem of the boat.
Halfred started up to look around him.
Then he perceived that he could only see with difficulty what was on
his left side. He felt for his left eye, and found a bleeding cavity. A
splinter of the mast had struck it out, and a stabbing pain beat
through his brain, which he said never again left him as long as he
lived.
He looked at his body. In charred rags his burnt clothing hung upon
him. Far in the distance he saw a craft which he recognized as the
larger boat of the Singing Swan.
The Singing Swan herself had disappeared; but away to the south there
lay a cloud of vapour and smoke over the sea.
The boat in which Halfred stood he recognised as the smaller boat of
the Singing Swan. Evidently his sailing comrades had dragged the
half-burned maniac from the burning ship, and saved him.
They had abandoned him to the Gods whom he had blasphemed, and in whom
they believed, to be saved by them, or perish. But no more fellowship
would they have with a man stricken by the heaviest of curses--madness.
For mad Halfred was, from the hour when he sprang into the flames, and
the mast struck him, until shortly before his death.
Therefore could he only tell me very little of all that in the meantime
happened either to, or through him.
But what he did tell me, here I faithfully write down.
But many many years must he have wandered in madness.
He told me, moreover, that he saw only before his eyes how Thora fell
from the mast; and how the flames seized her head and hair. And that he
could only think one single thought. "There are no Gods. Were there
Gods I must have slain them.
"So must I slay all human beings who believe in Gods; for blotted out
from the earth shall be the name and remembrance of the Gods."
And he could not die until he had slain the last man who still believed
in the Gods.
And thus he journeyed all about, everywhere, in his small ship; landed
in bays and upon islands, lived upon game which he hunted, or upon
domestic animals which he found in the fields, upon roots and wild
berries from the woods, upon eggs of sea-birds, and mussels from the
rocks.
And often the storm waves broke high over his boat, and shattered her
planks. But she sank not, nor was he drowned.
And one day he saw he was wholly naked, the last charred rags had
fallen from him. He was chilled, and when he met a wolf in the wood, he
ran after him so long that he overtook him, slew him with his hammer,
took off his skin, and hung it round his loins.
And thus he roamed and sailed, half naked, all about the north. And
none recognised in the maniac Berseker, Halfred Sigskald, the son of
Oski.
And he told me that when he chanced upon mankind, whither they were
many or few, he sprang upon them, and shouted to them his question.
"Are there Gods?"
And if they said "Yes," or as the most did, gave him no answer, then he
slew them all with his hammer. But if they said "No," as also many
did--for it was already rumoured throughout the whole north, that a
naked giant wandered through all lands with this question, whom the
people called "God destroyer"--or if they took to flight, then he let
them live.
And often, from dread, the peasants and the women gave him fruit,
bread, milk, and other food. Many however bound themselves in a league
to go out and slay him, as a wild beast. But they could not stand
before the fury and strength of the maniac. He killed the bold, the
timorous fled.
He slept hardly at all at night, therefore they could not surprise him
in his sleep.
Once, when he spent the night in the bam of a peasant, who had
previously renounced the Gods, with all his household, the people from
the court barricaded the straw-filled bam, and set fire to it. But
Halfred burst through the roof, dashed through the flames and arrows,
which could not pierce his body, and slew them all with his hammer.
And this maniac wandering endured many years.
And sea storms, and burning suns, and autumn frosts, and winter ice,
beat upon Halfred's half-naked body.
And his hair and beard stood out like a mane around him.
But no longer dark, as when of yore he trod, as a wooer. King
Harstein's courts--but snow white. In a single night--the night when
Thora died--his hair had become white.