Now the night goes by, but no rough weather came on. Grettir drove off
the horses, but Keingala cannot bear the grazing. This seemed strange
to Asmund, as the weather changed in nowise from what it had been
theretofore. The third morning Asmund went to the horses, and, coming
to Keingala, said,--
"I must needs deem these horses to be in sorry case, good as the
winter has been, but thy sides will scarce lack flesh, my dun."
"<i>Things boded will happen</i>," said Grettir, "<i>but so will
things unboded</i>."
Asmund stroked the back of the mare, and, lo, the hide came off
beneath his hand; he wondered how this could have happened, and said
it was likely to be Grettir's doing. Grettir sneered mockingly, but
said nought. Now goodman Asmund went home talking as one mad; he went
straight to the fire-hall, and as he came heard the good wife say,
"It were good indeed if the horse-keeping of my kinsman had gone off
well."