<i>Of the doings of Glam at Thorhall-stead</i>.
In the spring Thorhall got serving-men, and set up house at his farm;
then the hauntings began to go off while the sun was at its height;
and so things went on to midsummer. That summer a ship came out to
Hunawater, wherein was a man named Thorgaut. He was an outlander of
kin, big and stout, and two men's strength he had. He was unhired
and single, and would fain do some work, for he was moneyless. Now
Thorhall rode to the ship, and asked Thorgaut if he would work for
him. Thorgaut said that might be, and moreover that he was not nice
about work.
"Be sure in thy mind," said Thorhall, "that mannikins are of small
avail there because of the hauntings that have been going on there for
one while now; for I will not draw thee on by wiles."
Thorgaut answers, "I deem not myself given up, though I should see
some wraithlings; matters will not be light when I am scared, nor will
I give up my service for that."
Now they come speedily to a bargain, and Thorgaut is to watch the
sheep when winter comes. So the summer wore on, and Thorgaut betook
himself to the shepherding at winter nights, and all liked him well.
But ever came Glam home and rode the house-roofs; this Thorgaut deemed
sport enough, and quoth he--
"The thrall must come nigher to scare me."
Thorhall bade him keep silence over that. "Better will it be that ye
have no trial together."
Thorgaut said, "Surely all might is shaken out of you, nor shall I
drop down betwixt morn and eve at such talk."
Now so things go through the winter till Yule-tide. On Yule eve the
shepherd would fare out to his sheep. Then said the good wife--
"Need is it that things go not the old way."
He answered, "Have no fear thereof, goodwife; something worth telling
of will betide if I come not back."
And thereafter he went to his sheep; and the weather was somewhat
cold, and there was much snow. Thorgaut was wont to come home when
twilight had set in, and now he came not at that time. Folk went to
church as they were wont. Men now thought things looked not unlike
what they did before; the bonder would have search made for the
shepherd, but the church-goers begged off, and said that they would
not give themselves into the hands of trolls by night; so the bonder
durst not go, and the search came to nought.
Yule-day, when men were full, they fared out and searched for the
shepherd; they first went to Glam's cairn, because men thought that
from his deeds came the loss of the herdsman. But when they came nigh
to the cairn, there they saw great tidings, for there they found the
shepherd, and his neck was broken, and every bone in him smashed.
Then they brought him to church, and no harm came to men from Thorgaut
afterwards.
But Glam began afresh to wax mighty; and such deeds he wrought, that
all men fled away from Thorhall-stead, except the good man and his
goodwife. Now the same neatherd had long been there, and Thorhall
would not let him go, because of his good will and safe ward; he was
well on in years, and was very loth to fare away, for he saw that all
things the bonder had went to nought from not being watched.
Now after midwinter one morning the housewife fared to the byre to
milk the cows after the wonted time; by then was it broad daylight,
for none other than the neatherd would trust themselves out before
day; but he went out at dawn. She heard great cracking in the byre,
with bellowing and roaring; she ran back crying out, and said she knew
not what uncouth things were going on in the byre.
The bonder went out and came to the cows, which were goring one
another; so he thought it not good to go in there, but went in to the
hay-barn. There he saw where lay the neatherd, and had his head in one
boose[16] and his feet in the other; and he lay cast on his back. The
bonder went up to him, and felt him all over with his hand, and finds
soon that he was dead, and the spine of him broken asunder; it had
been broken over the raised stone-edge of a boose.
[Footnote 16: Boose, a cow-stall.]
Now the goodman thought there was no abiding there longer; so he fled
away from the farm with all that he might take away; but all such live
stock as was left behind Glam killed, and then he fared all over the
valley and destroyed farms up from Tongue. But Thorhall was with his
friends the rest of the winter.
No man might fare up the dale with horse or hound, because straightway
it was slain. But when spring came, and the sun-light was the
greatest, somewhat the hauntings abated; and now would Thorhall
go back to his own land; he had no easy task in getting servants,
nathless he set up house again at Thorhall-stead; but all went the
same way as before; for when autumn came, the hauntings began to wax
again; the bonder's daughter was most set on, and fared so that she
died thereof. Many redes were sought, but nought could be done; men
thought it like that all Waterdale would be laid waste if nought were
found to better this.