"Wilt thou watch my sheep?" said Thorhall. "Skapti has given thee to
my will."
"So only shall my service avail thee, if I go of my own will, for I am
evil of mood if matters mislike me," quoth Glam.
"I fear no hurt thereof," said Thorhall, "and I will that thou fare to
my house."
"That may I do," said Glam, "perchance there are some troubles there?"
"Folk deem the place haunted," said Thorhall.
"Such bugs will not scare me," quoth Glam; "life seems to me less
irksome thereby."
"It must needs seem so," said Thorhall, "and truly it is better that a
mannikin be not there."
Thereafter they struck bargain together, and Glam is to come at winter
nights: then they parted, and Thorhall found his horses even where he
had just been searching. Thorhall rode home, and thanked Skapti for
his good deed.
Summer slipped away, and Thorhall heard nought of his shepherd, nor
did any man know aught about him; but at the appointed time he came
to Thorhall-stead. The bonder greeted him well, but none of the other
folk could abide him, and the good wife least of all.
Now he took to the sheep-watching, and little trouble it seemed to
give him; he was big-voiced and husky, and all the beasts would run
together when he whooped. There was a church at Thorhall-stead, but
nowise would Glam come therein; he was a loather of church-song, and
godless, foul-tempered, and surly, and no man might abide him.
Now passed the time till it came to Yule-eve; then Glam got up and
straightway called for his meat. The good wife said--
"No Christian man is wont to eat meat this day, be-. cause that on the
morrow is the first day of Yule," says she, "wherefore must men first
fast to-day."
He answers, "Many follies have ye, whereof I see no good come, nor
know I that men fare better now than when they paid no heed to such
things; and methinks the ways of men were better when they were called
heathens; and now will I have my meat, and none of this fooling."
Then said the housewife, "I know for sure that thou shall fare ill
to-day, if thou takest up this evil turn."
Glam bade her bring food straightway, and said that she should fare
the worse else. She durst do but as he would, and so when he was full,
he went out, growling and grumbling.
Now the weather was such, that mirk was over all, and the snow-flakes
drave down, and great din there was, and still all grew much the
worse, as the day slipped away.
Men heard the shepherd through the early morning, but less of him
as the day wore; then it took to snowing, and by evening there was
a great storm; then men went to church, and thus time drew on to
nightfall; and Glam came not home; then folk held talk, as to whether
search should not be made for him, but, because of the snow-storm and
pitch darkness, that came to nought.
Now he came not home on the night of Yule-eve; and thus men abide till
after the time of worship; but further on in the day men fared out to
the search, and found the sheep scattered wide about in fens, beaten
down by the storm, or strayed up into the mountains. Thereafter they
came on a great beaten place high up in the valley, and they thought
it was as if strong wrestling had gone on there; for that all about
the stones had been uptorn and the earth withal; now they looked
closely and saw where Glam lay a little way therefrom; he was dead,
and as blue as hell, and as great as a neat.
Huge loathing took them, at the sight of him, and they shuddered in
their souls at him, yet they strove to bring him to church, but could
get him only as far as a certain gil-edge a little way below.
Then they fared home to the farm, and told the bonder what had happed.
He asked what was like to have been Glam's bane. They said they had
tracked steps as great as if a cask-bottom had been stamped down, from
there where the beaten place was, up to beneath sheer rocks which were
high up the valley, and there along went great stains of blood. Now
men drew from this, that the evil wight which had been there before
had killed Glam, but had got such wounds as had been full enough for
him, for of him none has since been ware.
The second day of Yule men went afresh to try to bring Glam to church;
drag horses were put to him, but could move him nowhere where they
had to go on even ground and not down hill; then folk had to go away
therefrom leaving things done so far.
The third day the priest fared with them, and they sought all day, but
found not Glam. The priest would go no more on such search, but the
herdsman was found whenso the priest was not in their company. Then
they let alone striving to bring him to church, and buried him there
whereto he had been brought.
A little time after men were ware that Glam lay not quiet. Folk got
great hurt therefrom, so that many fell into swoons when they saw him,
but others lost their wits thereby. But just after Yule men thought
they saw him home at the farm. Folk became exceeding afeard thereat,
and many fled there and then. Next Glam took to riding the house-roofs
at night, so that he went nigh to breaking them in. Now he walked
well-nigh night and day. Hardly durst men fare up into the dale,
though they had errands enough there. And much scathe the men of the
country-side deemed all this.