During the whole summer the sun had been hid behind the clouds,
as if unwilling to look upon the earth. There was perpetual calm,
and the damp mist hung like a wet sail over the houses and the
marshes. The air was heavy and oppressive, and in men's hearts was
neither joy nor cheerfulness. In the midst of this stillness the
earth began to tremble as if she was dying. The mountains opened to
vomit forth fire and flames. Some sank into the bosom of the earth,
and in other places mountains rose out of the plain. Aldland, called
by the seafaring people, Atland, disappeared, and the wild waves
rose so high over hill and dale that everything was buried in the
sea. Many people were swallowed up by the earth, and others who had
escaped the fire perished in the water.
It was not only in Finda's land that the earth vomited fire, but also
in Twiskland (Germany). Whole forests were burned one after the other,
and when the wind blew from that quarter our land was covered with
ashes. Rivers changed their course, and at their mouths new islands
were formed of sand and drift.
During three years this continued, but at length it ceased, and
forests became visible. Many countries were submerged, and in other
places land rose above the sea, and the wood was destroyed through
the half of Twiskland (Germany). Troops of Finda's people came and
settled in the empty places. Our dispersed people were exterminated
or made slaves. Then watchfulness was doubly impressed upon us,
and time taught us that union is force.