CHAPTER VIII.

THE GIANT COMES IN.

Restless they were that spring; and Unna was anxious and somewhat pettish

when Swein talked over the chances of a war. For one good thing, however,

he was eager to get forward with work at home, so that he might leave the

place well redd up: and that pleased the mistress right well. So they

put on until haytime, which is pretty early in the low fields by the

waterside, and these were all they had under hay: for the summer-pastures

on the fell were hardly stubbed, and far too stony for cutting with the

ley.

Well, they were all raking by the beck side, and the mistress was pouring

ale to slocken them, and the boys were tumbling in the haycocks,

when there was a terrible stir in the woods on the other bank. These

woods were on a long hill that made a wall to the valley over against

Greenodd: and the fields lay between, and the tide ran up the Crake to

where the valley narrowed and the fields ended, and there was a wath or

fording-place. Dogs barked, and men shouted, and swine squealed. They

could see by the shaking of the boughs that something was going forward:

most like a wild-cat hunt, they said to one another, and left it to the

swine-herds to deal with.

But presently there was a great splash in the ford, and out came a most

enormous man, half naked, with long red hair and red beard. He held one

hand on high, carrying they could not see what. In his other hand was a

huge ugly stock of tree. All the swine-herds’ dogs were after him, and

the men too, for that matter: but he made no account of them, until one

dog leaped at his legs as he came up the bank on the hither side. The big

man turned and flicked him like a football, high in the air and splash in

the water: and ran straight for Greenodd garth.

Swein and his men ran up to meet him with their rakes and forks, less

afraid than puzzled. The big man never stayed until he came to the door,

and then he thrust the thing he was carrying into a chink of the posts,

and began talking in a strange tongue. He was indeed a giant, head and

shoulders taller than any of the Greenodd men, but of quite another

make: crane-legged and clumsy handed and jolter-headed; unlike Swein,

who was no little fellow, though his strength was rather in the breadth

of his shoulders and the ropy sinews of his wrist and forearm, like a

seafaring man as he had been bred. They could make nothing of the giant’s

talk, but they saw that the thing he had brought was a burnt splinter,

and they knew that it was a war-arrow and token of fighting: but whence

or why they could not guess. Presently came Unna; and listening to the

man’s talk, she smiled, and began to answer him. The creature made her a

low court-reverence, half haughty, half awkward, and spoke to her with a

strutting way about him, like a cock upon pattens, as one may say.

When he had done, “Friends,” she said, “this man’s talk is like the talk

of our Irish: and I gather thus much of his discourse, that he is the

messenger of a war-rising in the north: and bids you to a weapon-show

beyond the fells, you and all the country side, whoever will cast in his

lot against the Saxon king. And you are to send on the arrow to our next

neighbours, and bid them likewise.”

“Speer of him, Unna, where and when,” said Swein.

So she asked him, and said his story was to the intent that he would come

again in ten days’ time to lead them over the fells by the bainest gate

to the Scots king and the Welsh king and all their friends: and she added

that she was sorry; but she doubted nothing of the man’s faith, for

there was the arrow.

Swein drew out the arrow, and gave it to one of his young men, and bade

him carry it to Ulfar by the fell-path. The red stranger watched him

start, and saw him run up the fell nimbly, and nodded his head: and then

Unna signed that he should come to the house for a bite and a sup, and

sent the servants back to their haymaking. He ate like a wolf, until

little was left for supper; and stared about him in great wonderment at

the house and all that was in it, especially at the three boys, who gaped

at him, while they kept hold of their mother’s gown. At last he made

another of his reverences, and a speech to Swein: walked swiftly through

the fields: splashed across the ford: and so vanished into the woods.

Now when the arrow came to Ulfar he was right glad, and sent it on far

and wide, and bade all his neighbours meet at Greenodd. So to Greenodd

came two-score men with their war-weapons: and what the giant had left

they ate. But it was a point of honour to give to all comers: and in

summer especially there was plenty for the trouble of killing and

cooking. They set up tents in the mown field to lodge them, and being

all good neighbours there was no rough play to speak of. As for the

errand upon which they were come, they held their meeting on the field

over against Greenodd across the ford of Crake. They cleared a space on

the fell side, and found a little howe there, and made a doom-ring and

hallowed it with sprinkling of blood. Some of them that held to the old

law wanted Swein to let them have a thrall to redden the stone. But he

said nay to that, and gave them a horse. So they killed a horse there for

Thor, and sprinkled its blood upon all the people, and held a hallowed

Thing to order their doings and to pray help and luck from their gods

on the journey whither they were bound. Because Ulfar was old they made

Swein their captain, and swore to him at that spot, which they called

Lögberg, and we call Legbarrow to this day.

Then began they to ask after the red man their guide, for it was well

known by this time that they were bidden to join Constantine the king

of Scots and Owain the son of Donal, the new king of Cumberland and

Strathclyde, and to march with all the north upon York by the great

highway. But how to come upon that highway none of them knew, nor did

they know the paths across the fells, for they had kept hitherto by the

sea and hardly ventured inland where all was wild forest. As they stood

in their assembly, some blaming Swein for putting trust in the red man,

and some saying that he ought to have been kept by force and not let go,

lo and behold the wood opened, and there he was beside them, true to his

appointed time.

Thorstein of the mere · 第 8 / 50 章