It is said that witches are fond of visiting people’s houses,
especially when they find them empty. North of Núgvunes, in Borgardahl,
on the island of Myggenes, there is a little but well-built house for
shepherds to pass the night in, when at certain times in the year they
come here to look after the sheep, because this part of the island is
far away from a village. One night, at an unusual time, one of these
shepherds went thither; but when he was about to take shelter in the
house, he heard much noise and racket within the building. He stationed
himself by a little window, and perceived that the house was full of
witches, who were holding carnival. They danced and sang: ‘Cold is the
witches’ home in the hills. It is better within the house on the cliff
by Skálavellir—trum, trum, trallarei—to dance close to the doors.’
But it was much worse at Troldenes, which is the most northerly village
in Kalsoe. Thither the witches used to come every Twelfth-night in such
multitudes that the townsfolk were at that time forced to flee to the
nearest town, Mygledahl, and stay there while this witches’ revelry
lasted; hence this town got the name of Troldenes (Witches’ Point). It
happened once that an old woman was not able to flee with the others to
Mygledahl on Twelfth-night. She lay under a table in the kitchen and
hid herself from the witches. In the evening, she saw the witches come
in and begin to shout and dance. But in the height of their merriment
the old woman under the table cried out: ‘Jesus, be merciful to me!’
When the witches heard the blessed name of Jesus, which they hate and
tremble at, they began to scream, and said to each other: ‘Gydja[6]
disturbs the dance.’ Thereupon they disappeared from Troldenes, and
they have not dared since to trouble that village. When the people came
back from Mygledahl after the festival, they expected to find the old
woman dead, but she then told them of her adventure with the witches.