CHAPTER VIII.OF THE BEAR.Grettir goes North—Biorn the Braggart—The Bear's Den—Biorn's Feat—A Hunting Party—The Lost Cloak—Grettir Seeks the Bear Alone—Grettir's Hardest Tussle—The Fall Over the Cliff—Thorgils Acts as Peacemaker—Grettir Restrains HimselfWhen spring came, then Grettir left his friend Thorfin, and went north along the Norwegian coast, and was everywhere well received, because the story of how he had killed twelve rovers, he being as yet but a boy, was noised through all the country, and every one who had anything to lose felt safer because that wicked gang was broken up. Nothing of consequence is told about him during that summer. For the winter he did not return to Thorfin as asked, but accepted the invitation of another bonder, named Thorgils.Thorgils was a merry, pleasant man, and he had a great company in his house that winter. Among his visitors was a certain Biorn, a distant cousin, a man whom Thorgils did not like, as he was a slanderous-tongued fellow, and moreover he was a braggart. He was one of those persons we meet with not infrequently who cannot endure to hear another praised; who, the moment a good word is spoken of someone, immediately puts in a nasty, spiteful word, and tells an unkind story, so as to drag that person down in the general opinion. At the same time, concerning himself he had only praiseworthy and wonderful feats to relate about his wit, his wisdom, his craft, his knowledge of the world, about his strength and courage.Thorgils knew how much, or rather how little, to believe of what Biorn said, and he did not pay much regard to his talk. But now Grettir had an opportunity of seeing and of feeling how mistaken had been his conduct on board the ship upon which he had come to Norway, when he made lampoons on the sailors and chapmen, and stung them with sharp words. He saw how disagreeable a fellow Biorn was, how much he was disliked, and by some despised; and he kept very greatly to himself and out of Biorn's way. He did not wish to quarrel with him, because he was the relative of his host, and he was afraid that his anger would get the better of him if he did come to words with the braggart.Grettir had grown a great deal since he left Iceland, and he was now a strapping fellow, broad built but not short. He was not handsome, but his face was intelligent.It fell out that a bear gave much trouble that winter to Thorgils and the neighbouring farmers. It was so strong and so daring that no folds were secure against it, and Thorgils and the other farmers endured severe losses through the depredations of Bruin.Before Yule, a party was formed to go in search of and kill the bear, but all that was done was to find the lair.The bear had taken up his abode in the face of a tremendous cliff that overhung the sea. There was but one path up to the cave, and that was so narrow that only one man could creep along it at a time. Moreover, if his foot slipped he would be flung over the edge upon the rocks or skerries below against which the waves dashed."When the den of the bear had been discovered," Biorn said, "That is the main thing. Now I know where the rogue lies, I'll settle with him, trust me. I've been the death of scores of bears. My only dread is lest he be afraid of me, and will not come on."And, actually, Biorn went out on several moonlit nights to watch for the bear. He saw that the only way to deal with him would be to stop the track from the den, and fight him as he attempted to come away. He took his short sword and great shield with him covered with ox-hide, and one night he laid himself down on the path of the bear, and put his shield over him. He thought that Bruin would come smelling at the great hide-covered shield, and then all at once he (Biorn) would spring up and drive his sword into the heart of the bear. That was his plan—and not a bad plan—only, unfortunately for Biorn, the bear did not come out for a long time. He had got an inkling that a man was watching for him, so he was shy, and whilst he waited before venturing forth, Biorn, who had been drinking pretty freely that evening, went to sleep.Presently the bear came out, crept cautiously down the narrow track, snuffing about, and when he came to Biorn, he plucked with his claws at the shield, and with one wrench had it off and tumbled it down the cliff.Biorn woke with a start, rose to his knees, saw the huge bear before him, and in a moment turned tail, and ran as hard as he could run to Thorgils' house, and was too scared to be able to boast that he had killed or wounded the bear.Next morning his shield was found where the bear had thrown it, and much fun did this adventure of the braggart occasion. This made him very irritable and more spiteful than ever.Thorgils now said that really something must be done to rid the neighbourhood of the bear, so a party of eight set out well armed with spears; of this party were Biorn and Grettir. They reached the point where the track to the den ran up the cliff to the lair, and one man after another tried it. But there was no getting at the bear; for as soon as a man came near the beast put his great forepaws forth and caught and snapped the spear-heads or beat them down. As already said, only one could crawl up at a time.Grettir had gone out that day in a fur coat that his friend Thorfin had given him, and which he greatly valued. When the onslaught against the bear began, he took off his fur coat, and folded it, and put it on a stone. Biorn saw this, and, when none observed, he took the fur coat and threw it into the cave of the bear. Grettir did not see what had been done till the party, disappointed with their want of success, made ready to depart, when he missed it, and then some suspicion entered his head as to what had been done with it, and by whom, but he said nothing.As they walked home, Biorn began to taunt Grettir with having done nothing all day. He could kill robbers who were unarmed and were drunk, perhaps asleep, but a bear was too serious an adversary for him.Grettir said nothing, but as his gaiter thong became broken, he stopped and stooped to mend it. Thorgils asked if they should wait for him. Grettir declined."Oh," said Biorn, "it is all nonsense. It is a pretence. He means to have all the glory of fighting the bear alone when we have gone on."He said the truth, but he had no idea when he spoke that it was the truth.Grettir tarried till the party had crossed a hill and was out of sight, then he turned and went back to the bear's den. He slipped his hand through the loop at the end of the handle of his short sword that he had taken from the grave of Karr the Old, and let it hang on his wrist, but he held the long sword, Jokull's gift, by the pommel. His plan was to use the long sword if needed, but if the bear came to close quarters he would throw it down and grasp the short one without having to put his hand to his girdle for it. Very cautiously he crept along the path. Bruin saw him, and was now angry and hungry, and came down to meet him. The bear was somewhat above him; Grettir halted, and the bear stood up growling on his hind-legs.At once the long sword was whirled and fell on the right wrist above the paw, and cut it off. The bear immediately fell down on all-fours; but the amputated paw was on the side away from the wall of rock, and when he went down on the stump he was overbalanced, and came down with his whole weight on Grettir.Grettir let fall his long sword at once, and with both hands grasped the brute's ears, and held his head off lest he should get a bite at him. Grettir, in after years, was wont to say that this was the hardest tussle he had in his life—it was even worse than anything he had to do with the rovers. For if the beast had but been able to nip him on the breast, or shoulder, or face with his great fangs, all would have been up with him. Moreover, the ears were so smooth that he had to do his utmost not to let them slip. Grettir had the wit to drag back the brute's head to the rock, and by so doing the bear could not use his only uninjured fore-leg, armed with terrible claws, which would have ripped Grettir's clothes and flesh.In the struggle the two went over the edge, and for a moment Grettir thought, as they spun in the air, that he was lost. But the bear was heavier than the lad, consequently he fell crash on the rocks at the bottom first, and Grettir on him, breaking Grettir's fall by his great body. The bear's back was broken.Then Grettir got up, shook himself, left the bear, went up the path and found his fur coat torn to tatters, and he put it about him, recovered also his long sword, and took the cut-off paw of the bear.He now went back to Thorgils' house, and when he came into the hall where the fires were blazing, every one laughed to see him in his tattered coat; but when he gave the paw of the bear to Thorgils the general merriment exchanged to surprise. Biorn, however, could not contain himself for vexation, and launched forth some coarse jest that made Grettir's blood tingle in his veins."Do not listen to him," said Thorgils. "You are a brave fellow, and there are not many your like." Then turning to Biorn, he said, "Kinsman, I advise and warn you to keep a civil tongue in your head, or you will come to rue it, and have to be taught better manners.""Oh, if I am to learn manners from Grettir, that is sending me to a cub indeed!""I want to know," said Grettir, "whether you threw my fur coat into the den?""I am not afraid of saying that I did.""Will you give me another in its place?""I have not the smallest intention of doing charity to beggars."The braggart knew that Grettir was restraining himself because he did not wish to quarrel with his host's kinsman, and he took advantage of his knowledge. But Thorgils was greatly distressed and ashamed, and he said to Grettir:"Pay no attention to his words. He has insulted you, and I will pay you a fine in compensation for his insult, that it may be buried and forgotten."That was customary then. When one had hurt another in body or in honour by blow or foul word, he was bound to pay a sum of money; if he did not then the man injured was required by the laws of honour to revenge the injury.But when Biorn heard this proposal, he shouted out that he would not suffer the matter to be so compromised; he was not ashamed of his words. Thorgils drew Grettir aside, and said to him that his kinsman was a badly-behaved, brutal fellow, but that he hoped Grettir would not take up the quarrel in his house; and Grettir promised him solemnly that he would not attempt to take revenge for the rudeness of Biorn so long as they were both inmates of his house."As for what may happen between you later," said Thorgils, "I wash my hands of responsibility. If Biorn is offensive to those who have never hurt him, he must take the consequences."So matters remained; only that Biorn, presuming on his position, became daily more arrogant, intolerable, and abusive, so that Grettir had to exercise daily self-restraint to keep his hands off him. And glad he was when spring came, that he might get away to another part of Norway.As for Biorn, he went in the summer to England in a ship that belonged to Thorgils, trading there for Thorgils and for himself. Consequently, all that summer he and Grettir did not meet.CHAPTER IX.THE SLAYING OF BIORN.The Meeting on the Island—Biorn's Death—Thorfin Comes to Grettir's Aid—Grettir's Life in Danger—Hiarandi's Revenge—A Doomed ManGrettir left Thorgils very good friends, and he went with some merchants to the north, but when the summer was over he came back south, and arrived at a little island in the entrance of the Drontheim firth. His intention was to see Earl Sweyn, and perhaps take service under him; but if so, things fell out other than he had reckoned. For, as he was in this island, there came in a large merchant vessel from England, and Grettir and those with him at once went to see the shipmen, and among them was Biorn. The ship was, in fact, that of Thorgils, and it was laden with commodities bought in England, or obtained by exchange for the wool, and furs, and women's embroidery sent out in the spring by Thorgils.Directly Biorn saw Grettir he turned red, and pretended not to recognize him; but Grettir went to him at once and said:"Now has come the time when we two can settle our differences.""Oh," said Biorn, "that is soon done. I don't object to paying a trifle.""The time for paying is over," said Grettir. "Thorgils offered an indemnity for your insolence, and you refused to consent to it."Then Biorn saw that there was no help for him but that he must fight. So he girded him for the conflict, and he and Grettir went down on the sand, and they fought.The fight did not last long. Grettir's sword cut him that he fell and died.When the news reached Thorgils, he got ready, and came by boat as fast as he could to see the earl at Drontheim. He found the earl very angry, but he said to him:"I am a kinsman of the fallen man, and I know that he treated Grettir with intolerable insolence, and that he refused every compromise. Then remember what a benefit has been done to the country by Grettir, who ridded it of the Red Rovers, Thorir wi' the Paunch and Ogmund the Bad."Thorfin also came to Drontheim when he heard of the straits into which Grettir had come through killing Biorn. The earl called a council on the matter, and said he would not come to a decision till he had heard what Biorn's brother Hiarandi had to say on the matter. Hiarandi was a violent man, and he was very wroth. He would hear of no patching up of the matter, and he vowed he would not, as he expressed it, "bring his brother into his purse." As already said, it was customary when a man had been killed to offer a sum of money to the next of kin, and if he accepted the money the quarrel was at an end. When we now speak of "pocketing an injury," reference is made to this same ancient usage, by which every offence was estimated at so much money, and if the wronged man took money for the offence committed against him, he was saidto pocket it. When the earl went into the matter, and heard how Grettir had been wronged and outraged by Biorn, he gave his decision that Grettir had not acted contrary to law, and that Biorn had justly forfeited his life. Thorfin offered the sum of money which the earl considered was sufficient to atone to the relations for the death of Biorn, but Hiarandi refused absolutely to touch it.Then Thorfin knew that Grettir's life was in danger, for Hiarandi would certainly try to take it; so he begged his kinsman Arinbiorn to go about with Grettir, and keep on the look-out against the mischief that threatened.Now it fell out one day that Grettir and Arinbiorn were walking down a street in Drontheim when their way led before a narrow lane opening into it. They did not see any danger in the way, and were unaware of this lane. But just as they had passed it a man jumped out from behind, in the shadow, swinging an axe, and he struck at Grettir between the shoulder-blades. Fortunately, Arinbiorn had looked round at the lane, and he saw the man leap out, so he suddenly dragged Grettir forward with such a jerk that Grettir fell on his knee. This saved his life, for the axe came on his shoulder-blade, made a gash that cut to his armpit, and then the axe buried itself in the roadway. Instantly Grettir started to his feet, turned round, and with his short sword smote in the very nick of time as the man, who was Hiarandi, was pulling up his axe to cut at Grettir again. Grettir's sword fell on his upper arm near the shoulder, and cut it off. Then out rushed some servants of Hiarandi on Arinbiorn and Grettir, who set their backs against a house-wall and defended themselves with such valour that they killed or put to flight all who had assailed them.Now, this had been a base and cowardly attempt on the life of Grettir, and Hiarandi richly deserved his fate. But the earl was exceedingly angry when he heard the news, and he called a council together. Thorfin and Grettir attended, and the earl angrily charged Grettir with having committed great violence, and being the cause of the death of Hiarandi and some of his servants.Grettir acknowledged this; but showed his wound, and stated how he had been attacked from behind; how his life had been saved by the promptitude of Arinbiorn, and how he had but defended himself against enemies who sought his life."I wish you had been killed," said the earl, "and then there would have been an end to these disorders.""You would not have a man not raise his hands to save his head?" said Grettir."I see one thing," exclaimed the earl. "Ill luck attends you, and you are doomed to commit violences wherever you are."The end of it was that Earl Sweyn said he would not have Grettir to live in Norway any longer, lest he should be the cause of fresh troubles. But he remained over the third winter, and next spring sailed for Iceland, the time of his outlawing being ended.CHAPTER X.OF GRETTIR'S RETURN.Iceland Once More—Life's Bitter Lessons—Grettir Pays Audun a Visit—Some Icelandic Terms—Byres and Sels—A Chief's Hall—The Return of Audun—Grettir's Second Wrestle with Audun—Bard Interposes—The Cousins ReconciledWhen Grettir came back to Biarg, he found his father so old and infirm as to be no more able to stir abroad, and Atli managed the farm for him along with Illugi, Grettir's youngest brother, now grown up to be a big boy. Grettir was now aged eighteen, but he looked and was a man. Illugi was about fifteen, a gentle, pleasant boy. He and the kindly, careful Atli were as unlike Grettir as well could be; they avoided quarrels, they had a civil word for every one, and took pains to make themselves agreeable, whether to guests in their house, or when staying anywhere, to their hosts. Grettir never troubled himself to be courteous or to be obliging to anyone. Now that he was back from Norway he was rather disposed to think much of himself as a man more brave and audacious than his fellows, for, had he not killed twelve rovers, broken into a barrow, slain a bear, and been the death of one man in a duel, and another who had attempted to assassinate him? Atli did not much like his manner, and cautioned him not to be overbearing whilst at home, lest he should involve himself in fresh troubles. But words were wasted on Grettir. He was not the fellow to listen to advice, but one of those men who must learn the bitter lessons of life by personal experience. It is so with men always. Some, who are thoughtful, see what God's law is which is impressed on all society, and listen to what others have found out as the lessons taught them by their lives, so they are able to go out equipped against the trials and difficulties of life. But others will neither look nor listen, and such have to go through every sort of adversity, till they have learned the great truths of social life, and perhaps they only acquire them when it is too late to put them in practice.It is with laws and courtesies of life as with the three R's. A man will fare badly who cannot read, write, and cipher. If he learns these accomplishments as a child, he does well; he is furnished for the struggle of life, and starts on the same footing as other men; but if as a child he is morose and indifferent, and refuses to learn, then all through his life he is met with difficulties, owing to his ignorance, and he finds that he must learn to read, write, and do sums; and he has to acquire these in after years with much less ease than he might have learnt as a child, and after he has lost many chances of getting on which might have been seized, had he known these things before.Grettir's temper on his return may be judged by one incident that happened almost directly. He had not forgotten his struggle on the ice with his cousin Audun, and he was resolved to have another trial of strength with him. So he had not been home many days before he rode over the hill to Audunstead in his best harness, and with a beautiful saddle on his horse that had been given him by Thorfin. The time was that of hay, and he saw the field round Audun's farm full of rich grass, ready to be cut. He took the bridle off his horse and turned it into Audun's meadow. This was not out of thoughtlessness, but out of insolence, and was intended to exasperate Audun. In Iceland grass grows very little, and only fit to be cut for hay round the farms in what is called thetun, where it is richly dressed with stable-dung. Consequently hay is very scarce and very precious. The grass never grows much longer than one's fingers, and so even in the tun it is not plentiful. He knocked at the door of the farm and asked for his cousin, and was told that Audun had gone to the highlandselto fetch curds, and would be back later. Theselwas a farm on the highland, only occupied in summer, when the cattle were driven to the moors and hills to feed on the grass there, and to save that in the lowlands against winter.Here a word or two must be said about Icelandic names of places and people. When Iceland was colonized, those who first settled in the land and built farms, called the places after their own names in a great many cases; they called them so-and-so'sstead, or so-and-so'sbyor farm. Abyis the Scotch byre, and in Icelandic isbœr, pronounced exactly like the Scotch word. Wherever, in the north and east of England, Norse settlers came, there we find names of places ending in the same way, and we know that these were farms and dwellings of old Norse settlers. Thus in Northumberland, Yorkshire, and Lincolnshire, are plenty of Norse place-names. Near Thirsk is Thirkelby or Thorkel's-byre, near Ripon is Enderby or Andrew's-byre. Not only so, but where there are high hills there we find alsosels, that is summer-farms, like the Alps to which the cattle are driven in Switzerland. Next as to the names of people. What is a little puzzling to remember is the number of persons whose names begin with Thor. Thor, the god of thunder, was regarded with the highest reverence by the Icelanders; they thought of him even more than they did of Odin, the chief god of all, who had one eye, and his one fiery eye was the sun. Thor was called the Redbeard, and the aurora borealis was thought to be his waving red-beard in the sky. The thunderbolt they regarded as his hammer. To show their respect for him, children were named after him: Thor-grim means Thor's wrath; Thor-kel, Thor's kettle, in which the sacrificial meat was cooked in offering to Thor; Thor-gil was Thor's boy or servant; Thor-hall was Thor's flint spear-head, and so on. The Northumbrian king, St. Osmund, takes his name from the Hand of God, and the name is the same as Asmund, the father of Grettir. Oswald means the elect of the god; in Icelandic the name would be Aswald.When Grettir found that Audun was from home, he went into the hall and lay down on the bench nearest the door. The hall was dark.The halls of the Icelandic chiefs were like bodies of churches, and were divided into a nave with side aisles; and were lighted by windows in a clere-story that were covered with the skin of the lining of a sheep's stomach, to let in light and keep out cold, because they had no glass. In the side aisles were the beds of those who lived in the house, some with doors and shutters, which could be fastened from within; and a man in danger of his life would so sleep. He would go to bed, and then close himself in and lock the shutters, that no one could get at him when he was asleep. The fires and benches and tables were in the nave, or middle of the great hall. Over the partitions for the beds were hung shields and swords and spears, and on grand occasions hangings were put up all along the sides, hiding the beds and berths in the side aisles. The arrangement in an Icelandic house at the present day is much the same, only on a very much reduced scale. The people live and eat and sleep in the same room, like the saloon-cabin of a ship, with the berths round the walls.Audun arrived in the afternoon with a horse that carried curds in skins on its back; that is to say, skins were made into bottles, as is still common in Palestine. When he saw that a horse with a saddle on it was wandering about in his meadow, trampling down the grass and eating it, he was very vexed; and throwing one bottle of curd over his back, and hanging another in front on his breast to counterbalance it, he ran into the house to ask who had done this.The hall was dusky, and Audun's eyes were accustomed to the bright summer-light. As he entered Grettir put out his foot; Audun did not see it, and stumbled over it, fell on the skin of curds and burst it. Then he jumped up, very angry, and asked who had played him this scurvy trick. Grettir named himself, and said he had come over about that matter of the wrestle on the ice. Audun, still very irate, all at once stooped, picked up the burst skin, and dashed it in Grettir's face, smothering him with curds. Then he threw down the other curd-bottle, and began to wrestle with Grettir. They swung up and down the hall, kicking over the benches, now upon the floor, then on the stone-paved fire-hearth in the midst; then they crashed against the walls and pillars of the bed-chambers, and as they did so the shields and weapons hung over them clashed like bells. Some frightened servant-maids came in, and ran out again in alarm, calling for aid.Audun felt now that Grettir had outgrown him in strength, but he would not give in; then they slipped on the curd and both fell, parted for a moment, rose, and flew at each other once more. Again, up and down, banging, stumbling, writhing in each other's arms, twisting legs round each other, to try to trip each other up, and ever Grettir bearing Audun backwards, but never wholly mastering him. Audun could not trust his cousin, for though they were akin, and though he had not really done him an injury, there was no telling to what a pitch Grettir's blood might mount and blind him; so as they wrestled, Audun took care to twist the short sword out of Grettir's belt and throw it away. As, to do this, he had to disengage his hand from Grettir's shoulder, he lost an advantage. Grettir managed to trip him, and throw him flat on his back.At that moment, fortunately, a man, big, wearing a red kirtle, and in full harness, entered the hall and asked what was the meaning of the noise and fight? As he did not receive an immediate answer, he came to the rescue of Audun, and drew Grettir from him."We are only in play with each other," said Grettir."Rather rough play," said the man, "and likely to end in tears rather than laughter.""Who are you that interfere?" asked Grettir."My name is Bard."Then Audun scrambled to his feet."What is the reason of this rough play?" asked Bard.Then Grettir answered, by singing:"Prithee, Audun, will you sayHow, upon the ice one day,You to throttle did essay?Now, for that I this have done,On Audun honour I have won;Curds and wrestle make good fun.""Oh, I see," said Bard; "fighting out an old grudge. I have nothing to say against that. Now, shake hands, and be loving cousins again."Audun held out his hand, and Grettir agreed to let the matter end thus. But he was dissatisfied, and ever after bore Bard a grudge. However, he never again wrestled with Audun, and remained on good terms with him.CHAPTER XI.THE HORSE-FIGHT.Atli's Roan—The Coming Fight—Unfair Play—Grettir Retaliation—Smouldering FireOne of the rude and cruel sports that amused the Icelanders in summer time was horse-fighting. A smooth piece of turf was chosen, and was staked round. Into this inclosure two or sometimes more horses were introduced, and a man attended each, who urged on his own horse, armed with a goad. By means of these goads the horses were stung to madness, and attacked each other, biting each other savagely. Now, Atli had a beautiful roan, with a black mane, which he and his old father were very proud of. Lower down the valley, near the sea, was a farm called Mais, in which lived a bonder named Kormak, and his brother; they had in their house a man called Odd the Foundling, a sly, captious fellow, who, like Grettir, made verses; but his verses were not generally thought to be so good as those of Grettir. On the opposite side of the river is a hot-spring; it is still hot, but not so hot as it was in those days, when it boiled up and poured forth a cloud of steam, and ran in a scalding rill down to the river. There was a convenient level place near the river for a horse-fight, and it stood above the water on one side rather steeply, so that it needed only fencing on three sides. Kormak had a brown horse that fought well, and it was resolved that autumn to have a fight between the horse of Kormak and the roan of Atli. Odd was to goad on Kormak's brown, and Grettir offered himself to his brother to run with the roan. Atli did not much like the proposal, as he feared Grettir's temper; but he could not well decline his offer, so he said, "I will consent, brother; only I pray you, be peaceable, for we have to do with overbearing men, and it will be very unfortunate if a broil should come of this.""If they begin, I shall not run away," said Grettir."Not if they begin; but be very careful not to provoke a quarrel.""Quarrels come and are not made," said Grettir."That I do not hold," answered Atli.The day of the horse-fight arrived, and the horses were led to the place of contest. They had been fed up and groomed for the occasion, and each had a band round his middle of colour, by which he who went with the horse could hold, and the goad of each was tied with a tuft of feathers at the head, stained the same colour as the belt about the horse.The two horses were introduced within the inclosure, and were soon goaded into anger, and began to plunge, and snort, and snap at each other. The by-standers outside the railing cheered and shouted, and the horses seemed to understand that they were to do their best; so they pranced about each other, struck at each other, and tried to get round each other so as to bite the flank. At one moment the roan bit the side of the brown, and held. Odd ran his goad into the horse of Grettir to make it let go;—this was against the rules; he did it to save his own horse from a terrible wound. Grettir saw what he did, but he said nothing. Now the horses bore towards the river, and were rearing and plunging close to the edge, and the two men had much ado to hold on. Then Odd took the opportunity when Grettir's back was turned to drive at him with his goad between the shoulders, where was the great scar still red, and only just fully healed, that he had received from the axe of Hiarandi. It was a cruel blow, and this also was against all rule of fair play.At that moment the roan reared, and instantly Grettir ran under him, and struck Odd with such a blow that he reeled back towards the water edge, and in so doing dragged the brown horse he was holding over the edge, and both went down into the water together. The river was very full with the melted snows, and Odd was brought ashore with difficulty. It was found that three of his ribs were broken; but whether with the blow dealt by Grettir, or by his fall on the rock, or by the hoof of the horse as it fell and struggled in the river, cannot be said; but the party of Kormak, of course, charged Grettir with having broken Odd's ribs with his stick, and they flew to arms, and threatened the party from Biarg. However, the people of the nearest vales and firths interfered, and no bloodshed ensued. But the men of Mais and of Biarg separated bearing each other much ill-will, each charging the other with having broken the laws of the sport.Atli did not say what he felt, he was greatly annoyed; but Grettir was less careful of his words, he said that the matter was by no means ended, and that he hoped there would be a meeting between the men of Mais and the men of Biarg, and then—it would not be a fight of horses, but of men; not a biting of horses, but of sharp blades.CHAPTER XII.OF THE FIGHT AT THE NECK.The Desolate Moor—Grettir challenges Kormak—Oxmain comes on the Scene—Slow-coach taunts Grettir—Grettir's VexationThe next fiord on the west of that into which the river that flowed past Biarg poured was called the Ramsfirth, and at the head of it lived Grettir's married sister.In the following summer, that is in 1014, Grettir paid his sister a visit; he had with him two servant-men from Biarg, and he spent three days and nights at his sister's. Whilst there, news reached him that Kormak, who had been away from Mais for a week or two, was on his road home, and who was now staying at a house called Tongue. Grettir at once made ready to depart, and his brother-in-law sent two men with him, for it was not safe that Grettir should have only two churls with him, as there was ill blood between him and Kormak about that affair of the horse-fight.A high, long shoulder of desolate moor lies between the Ramsfirth and the Westriver-dale, in which is a confluent of the river that flows past Biarg. This shoulder rises to the north into a great hump, called Burfell, and on the saddle is a little lake. A very fine view is obtained from this shoulder of moor over the northern immense bay of Hunafloi, towards the glaciers and mountains of that curious excrescence of land that lies on the north-west of Iceland. I know exactly the road taken by Grettir on this occasion, for I have ridden over it. Along the top of this shoulder the rocks are scraped by glaciers, that must at one time have occupied the whole centre of the island, and have slowly slidden down into the firths on all sides. Here, what is curious is, that the rocks are furrowed, just as if carved with a graving tool, in lines from south to north, showing the direction from which the glaciers slipped down. Now, on the slope of this bit of upland is a great stone poised on a point, which I have seen. Grettir came to this stone, and spent a long time in trying to upset it. It is called Grettir's-heave to this day. The men who were with him rather wondered at him why he wasted time over this, instead of pushing on. But his sharp eye had noticed the party of Kormak leaving Tongue, and he was bent on an encounter. He thought that if Odd had seen him going over the hill he would make a lampoon about him running away from his sister's house the moment he heard that danger was threatening. So he determined to tarry till Kormak came up and fight him. He had not long to wait, for presently over the top of the hill came Kormak with Odd and some others. Grettir at once rode to meet them, and said, "Now we have our weapons on both sides, let us fight like men of good birth, and not with sticks as churls."Then Kormak turned to his men and bade them accept the challenge and fight.Accordingly they ran at one another and fought. Grettir bade his two serving-men stand behind his back and defend that, and he, sweeping his longsword from left to right, went forward against Kormak. Thus they fought for a while, and some were wounded on both sides.Now it so happened that at a rich farm in the Ramsfirth-dale lived a well-to-do, and very strong man, called Thorbiorn—that is, Thor's Bear—nicknamed Oxmain. He had ridden that day over Burfell-heath, with a party, and was now returning. As he came along he heard shouts and the clashing of arms, so he quickened his pace, and presently came in sight of the fighters. He at once ordered his men to dash in between the combatants. But by this time the passions of those engaged were so furious that they would not be separated. Grettir sweeping his long-sword about him strode forward, and the men of Kormak fell back before him. Down went two of those who were with Kormak, and one servant of Atli, Grettir's brother, was killed.[image]GRETTIR CHALLENGES KORMAK AND HIS PARTY.Then Thorbiorn Oxmain raised his great voice and roared out, that he and his party would take sides against the first man who dealt another blow. Grettir saw that it would hardly do if Thorbiorn Oxmain brought all his force against him, so he gave up the battle; but they did not part till every one of those engaged was wounded, and two were killed on one side, and one on the other. Grettir was ill pleased that the affray had ended in this manner, and he felt resentment against Oxmain for his interference. Unfortunately, Oxmain's brother, who went by the name of the Slow-coach, made fun of the matter, and laughed about Grettir sneaking away from the fight directly he saw that he was getting the worst of it. Whatever he said was reported at Biarg, and, as may well be imagined, did not improve Grettir's temper, or liking for Oxmain and Slow-coach. Nothing further occurred between him and Kormak, probably he and Kormak were content with the trial of strength that had taken place, and were disinclined to renew a profitless contest.Atli took no notice of the loss of his house-churl; he desired peace, and not a stirring afresh of the fires of discord. To his peaceable behaviour it was doubtless due that the quarrel with Kormak came to an end. But the vexation felt by Grettir against Oxmain for his meddlesomeness, and against Slow-coach for his gibes, rankled in his breast.CHAPTER XIII.HOW GRETTIR AND AUDUN MADE FRIENDS.Audun's Pedigree—His relation to Grettir—Grettir's-heaves—In Willowdale—The Place called Tongue—A very strange TaleGrettir remained through the autumn at Biarg, after the skirmish at the Neck, till September, and then he thought he would ride away east and see Audun again, with whom he had had that little ruffle that was almost a quarrel, and which was fortunately interrupted by the entrance of Bard. Audun was a cousin, though not a near one, and Grettir had no desire that any bad blood should exist between kinsfolk. Audun belonged to what was called the Madpate family; for it had had in it at least two who had been so odd in their ways that folk said they were not quite right in their minds. The relationship will easily be understood by a look at the pedigree. It will be remembered that old Onund Treefoot, who had settled in Iceland, had to wife secondly Thordis, an Icelandic woman, and his son by her was Thorgrim Grizzlepate, and this Thorgrim bought the estate and house of Biarg about the year 935. Onund Treefoot died in or about 920, and then his widow Thordis married again a man called Audun Skokull, and they had a son who was called Asgeir, who settled in Willowdale, and either went off his head or proved so queer in his ways that folks called him Madpate. This Madpate married and had a son Audun, and a daughter Thurid who married away west into a very good family; and she had a son called Thorstein Kuggson, of whom we shall hear more presently. Audun of Willowdale's son was Madpate the Second, and the lad Audun who wrestled with Grettir and burst the bottle of curds was the son of this Madpate the Second. Consequently the relationship to Grettir was through Grettir's great-grandmother, and Audun belonged to a generation younger than that of Grettir, because Grettir was the son of Asmund's old age. Moreover, Asmund's father Thorgrim had married somewhat late in life, whereas all the Madpate family had dashed into marriage at a very early age. Thus it came about that Grettir's great-grandmother was Audun's great-great-grandmother, and that, nevertheless, Audun was somewhat older than Grettir.Grettir rode straight up over the hill behind his house. Now this hill like the Neck, already described, is rather curious, for on it are a number of rocks that have been deposited by glaciers, and not only so, but they have been dragged along by ice, scratching the rocks over which they were driven forward, and so these beds of rock are rubbed and scored with lines made by the stones forced over them by ice. Above Biarg there is one large stone that has scratched a deep furrow in the bed of rock and then has stopped at the end of the furrow it had itself scored. This remarkable phenomenon tells us of a time when the whole of the centre of Iceland was covered with glaciers, like the centre of Greenland now. These glaciers slided down the slopes of the hills, and were thrust along to the sea, where they broke off and floated away as icebergs.Nowadays folk in Iceland do not understand these odd stones perched in queer places, which were deposited by the ancient glaciers, and they call them Grettir-taks or Grettir's-heaves. So the farmer at Biarg told me that the curious stone at the end of the furrow in the bed of rock on top of the hill was a Grettir-tak; it had been rubbed along the rock and left where it stands by Grettir. But I knew better. I knew that it was put there by an ancient glacier ages before Grettir was born, and before Iceland was discovered by the Norsemen. I have no doubt that in Grettir's time this stone was said to have been put there by some troll. Afterwards, when people ceased to believe in trolls, they said it was put there by Grettir.Grettir's ride led him by a pretty little blue lake that lies folded in between high hills and has a stream flowing from it into a very large lake near Hop. But he did not follow the stream down; he crossed another hill, not very steep and high, and reached his cousin's house at Audun stead in Willowdale. Now this valley took its name from the woods of willows that grew in it when first settled, but at the present day none remain; all have in course of time been burnt for fuel, and except for scanty grass the Willowdale is very dreary-looking. We may be sure that Iceland presented a much more smiling and green appearance eight hundred or a thousand years ago than it does at present.When Grettir came to Willowdale, Audun received him in a friendly manner, and Grettir made him a present of a handsome axe he had. He remained with him some little while, and they talked over old tales of Onund Treefoot and his doings, and every shadow of rivalry and anger disappeared, so that they parted at length in the best of tempers and as true and affectionate cousins.Audun would have desired to keep Grettir there longer, but Grettir would not stay. He desired to get on to the head of Waterdale, where lived an uncle of his called Jokull, his mother's brother, at a place called Tongue.So he rode away over the moor, and reached Tongue. Here a stream comes rushing through a gorge in a series of waterfalls, and meets another stream that comes down a valley called the Valley of Shadows further east.Tongue is so called because it lies on a grassy slope exactly in the tongue of land between these two streams. There is now a good farm there and a church, and there I stayed a few days. At the back of Tongue the hill rises rapidly to a fell called Tongue-heath. This hill was covered with snow when Grettir arrived. This uncle Jokull was glad to see him.He was a rough and violent man, very big and strong; and it was clear to everyone that his nephew took after his mother's family more than his father's, for there was a strong likeness both in build and face and in character between Jokull and Grettir.He received Grettir heartily in his rough, blunt way, and bade him stay there as long as he liked. Jokull had been a seafaring man, and had made much by his merchant trips. He would probably have been a richer and more respected man had he not been so violent and overbearing and ready to pick quarrels.Now Grettir had not been at Tongue three days before he heard a very strange tale. Jokull's mouth was full of it, and with good reason, for the events had taken place not an hour's ride distant. It was a tale about the nearest farm in the Valley of Shadows, a farm called Thorhall's-stead, which was reported to be haunted; and so serious had affairs become there that no servants would remain, and the farmer and his family had been driven from house and home by the hauntings last winter, and had come and lodged with Jokull at Tongue, and he had entertained them for some two or three months. Now this was not a case of mere fancy and fantastic fear. It was something very real and very marvellous. But it is a long story, and must be consigned to another chapter.
CHAPTER VIII.
OF THE BEAR.
Grettir goes North—Biorn the Braggart—The Bear's Den—Biorn's Feat—A Hunting Party—The Lost Cloak—Grettir Seeks the Bear Alone—Grettir's Hardest Tussle—The Fall Over the Cliff—Thorgils Acts as Peacemaker—Grettir Restrains Himself
Grettir goes North—Biorn the Braggart—The Bear's Den—Biorn's Feat—A Hunting Party—The Lost Cloak—Grettir Seeks the Bear Alone—Grettir's Hardest Tussle—The Fall Over the Cliff—Thorgils Acts as Peacemaker—Grettir Restrains Himself
When spring came, then Grettir left his friend Thorfin, and went north along the Norwegian coast, and was everywhere well received, because the story of how he had killed twelve rovers, he being as yet but a boy, was noised through all the country, and every one who had anything to lose felt safer because that wicked gang was broken up. Nothing of consequence is told about him during that summer. For the winter he did not return to Thorfin as asked, but accepted the invitation of another bonder, named Thorgils.
Thorgils was a merry, pleasant man, and he had a great company in his house that winter. Among his visitors was a certain Biorn, a distant cousin, a man whom Thorgils did not like, as he was a slanderous-tongued fellow, and moreover he was a braggart. He was one of those persons we meet with not infrequently who cannot endure to hear another praised; who, the moment a good word is spoken of someone, immediately puts in a nasty, spiteful word, and tells an unkind story, so as to drag that person down in the general opinion. At the same time, concerning himself he had only praiseworthy and wonderful feats to relate about his wit, his wisdom, his craft, his knowledge of the world, about his strength and courage.
Thorgils knew how much, or rather how little, to believe of what Biorn said, and he did not pay much regard to his talk. But now Grettir had an opportunity of seeing and of feeling how mistaken had been his conduct on board the ship upon which he had come to Norway, when he made lampoons on the sailors and chapmen, and stung them with sharp words. He saw how disagreeable a fellow Biorn was, how much he was disliked, and by some despised; and he kept very greatly to himself and out of Biorn's way. He did not wish to quarrel with him, because he was the relative of his host, and he was afraid that his anger would get the better of him if he did come to words with the braggart.
Grettir had grown a great deal since he left Iceland, and he was now a strapping fellow, broad built but not short. He was not handsome, but his face was intelligent.
It fell out that a bear gave much trouble that winter to Thorgils and the neighbouring farmers. It was so strong and so daring that no folds were secure against it, and Thorgils and the other farmers endured severe losses through the depredations of Bruin.
Before Yule, a party was formed to go in search of and kill the bear, but all that was done was to find the lair.
The bear had taken up his abode in the face of a tremendous cliff that overhung the sea. There was but one path up to the cave, and that was so narrow that only one man could creep along it at a time. Moreover, if his foot slipped he would be flung over the edge upon the rocks or skerries below against which the waves dashed.
"When the den of the bear had been discovered," Biorn said, "That is the main thing. Now I know where the rogue lies, I'll settle with him, trust me. I've been the death of scores of bears. My only dread is lest he be afraid of me, and will not come on."
And, actually, Biorn went out on several moonlit nights to watch for the bear. He saw that the only way to deal with him would be to stop the track from the den, and fight him as he attempted to come away. He took his short sword and great shield with him covered with ox-hide, and one night he laid himself down on the path of the bear, and put his shield over him. He thought that Bruin would come smelling at the great hide-covered shield, and then all at once he (Biorn) would spring up and drive his sword into the heart of the bear. That was his plan—and not a bad plan—only, unfortunately for Biorn, the bear did not come out for a long time. He had got an inkling that a man was watching for him, so he was shy, and whilst he waited before venturing forth, Biorn, who had been drinking pretty freely that evening, went to sleep.
Presently the bear came out, crept cautiously down the narrow track, snuffing about, and when he came to Biorn, he plucked with his claws at the shield, and with one wrench had it off and tumbled it down the cliff.
Biorn woke with a start, rose to his knees, saw the huge bear before him, and in a moment turned tail, and ran as hard as he could run to Thorgils' house, and was too scared to be able to boast that he had killed or wounded the bear.
Next morning his shield was found where the bear had thrown it, and much fun did this adventure of the braggart occasion. This made him very irritable and more spiteful than ever.
Thorgils now said that really something must be done to rid the neighbourhood of the bear, so a party of eight set out well armed with spears; of this party were Biorn and Grettir. They reached the point where the track to the den ran up the cliff to the lair, and one man after another tried it. But there was no getting at the bear; for as soon as a man came near the beast put his great forepaws forth and caught and snapped the spear-heads or beat them down. As already said, only one could crawl up at a time.
Grettir had gone out that day in a fur coat that his friend Thorfin had given him, and which he greatly valued. When the onslaught against the bear began, he took off his fur coat, and folded it, and put it on a stone. Biorn saw this, and, when none observed, he took the fur coat and threw it into the cave of the bear. Grettir did not see what had been done till the party, disappointed with their want of success, made ready to depart, when he missed it, and then some suspicion entered his head as to what had been done with it, and by whom, but he said nothing.
As they walked home, Biorn began to taunt Grettir with having done nothing all day. He could kill robbers who were unarmed and were drunk, perhaps asleep, but a bear was too serious an adversary for him.
Grettir said nothing, but as his gaiter thong became broken, he stopped and stooped to mend it. Thorgils asked if they should wait for him. Grettir declined.
"Oh," said Biorn, "it is all nonsense. It is a pretence. He means to have all the glory of fighting the bear alone when we have gone on."
He said the truth, but he had no idea when he spoke that it was the truth.
Grettir tarried till the party had crossed a hill and was out of sight, then he turned and went back to the bear's den. He slipped his hand through the loop at the end of the handle of his short sword that he had taken from the grave of Karr the Old, and let it hang on his wrist, but he held the long sword, Jokull's gift, by the pommel. His plan was to use the long sword if needed, but if the bear came to close quarters he would throw it down and grasp the short one without having to put his hand to his girdle for it. Very cautiously he crept along the path. Bruin saw him, and was now angry and hungry, and came down to meet him. The bear was somewhat above him; Grettir halted, and the bear stood up growling on his hind-legs.
At once the long sword was whirled and fell on the right wrist above the paw, and cut it off. The bear immediately fell down on all-fours; but the amputated paw was on the side away from the wall of rock, and when he went down on the stump he was overbalanced, and came down with his whole weight on Grettir.
Grettir let fall his long sword at once, and with both hands grasped the brute's ears, and held his head off lest he should get a bite at him. Grettir, in after years, was wont to say that this was the hardest tussle he had in his life—it was even worse than anything he had to do with the rovers. For if the beast had but been able to nip him on the breast, or shoulder, or face with his great fangs, all would have been up with him. Moreover, the ears were so smooth that he had to do his utmost not to let them slip. Grettir had the wit to drag back the brute's head to the rock, and by so doing the bear could not use his only uninjured fore-leg, armed with terrible claws, which would have ripped Grettir's clothes and flesh.
In the struggle the two went over the edge, and for a moment Grettir thought, as they spun in the air, that he was lost. But the bear was heavier than the lad, consequently he fell crash on the rocks at the bottom first, and Grettir on him, breaking Grettir's fall by his great body. The bear's back was broken.
Then Grettir got up, shook himself, left the bear, went up the path and found his fur coat torn to tatters, and he put it about him, recovered also his long sword, and took the cut-off paw of the bear.
He now went back to Thorgils' house, and when he came into the hall where the fires were blazing, every one laughed to see him in his tattered coat; but when he gave the paw of the bear to Thorgils the general merriment exchanged to surprise. Biorn, however, could not contain himself for vexation, and launched forth some coarse jest that made Grettir's blood tingle in his veins.
"Do not listen to him," said Thorgils. "You are a brave fellow, and there are not many your like." Then turning to Biorn, he said, "Kinsman, I advise and warn you to keep a civil tongue in your head, or you will come to rue it, and have to be taught better manners."
"Oh, if I am to learn manners from Grettir, that is sending me to a cub indeed!"
"I want to know," said Grettir, "whether you threw my fur coat into the den?"
"I am not afraid of saying that I did."
"Will you give me another in its place?"
"I have not the smallest intention of doing charity to beggars."
The braggart knew that Grettir was restraining himself because he did not wish to quarrel with his host's kinsman, and he took advantage of his knowledge. But Thorgils was greatly distressed and ashamed, and he said to Grettir:
"Pay no attention to his words. He has insulted you, and I will pay you a fine in compensation for his insult, that it may be buried and forgotten."
That was customary then. When one had hurt another in body or in honour by blow or foul word, he was bound to pay a sum of money; if he did not then the man injured was required by the laws of honour to revenge the injury.
But when Biorn heard this proposal, he shouted out that he would not suffer the matter to be so compromised; he was not ashamed of his words. Thorgils drew Grettir aside, and said to him that his kinsman was a badly-behaved, brutal fellow, but that he hoped Grettir would not take up the quarrel in his house; and Grettir promised him solemnly that he would not attempt to take revenge for the rudeness of Biorn so long as they were both inmates of his house.
"As for what may happen between you later," said Thorgils, "I wash my hands of responsibility. If Biorn is offensive to those who have never hurt him, he must take the consequences."
So matters remained; only that Biorn, presuming on his position, became daily more arrogant, intolerable, and abusive, so that Grettir had to exercise daily self-restraint to keep his hands off him. And glad he was when spring came, that he might get away to another part of Norway.
As for Biorn, he went in the summer to England in a ship that belonged to Thorgils, trading there for Thorgils and for himself. Consequently, all that summer he and Grettir did not meet.
CHAPTER IX.
THE SLAYING OF BIORN.
The Meeting on the Island—Biorn's Death—Thorfin Comes to Grettir's Aid—Grettir's Life in Danger—Hiarandi's Revenge—A Doomed Man
The Meeting on the Island—Biorn's Death—Thorfin Comes to Grettir's Aid—Grettir's Life in Danger—Hiarandi's Revenge—A Doomed Man
Grettir left Thorgils very good friends, and he went with some merchants to the north, but when the summer was over he came back south, and arrived at a little island in the entrance of the Drontheim firth. His intention was to see Earl Sweyn, and perhaps take service under him; but if so, things fell out other than he had reckoned. For, as he was in this island, there came in a large merchant vessel from England, and Grettir and those with him at once went to see the shipmen, and among them was Biorn. The ship was, in fact, that of Thorgils, and it was laden with commodities bought in England, or obtained by exchange for the wool, and furs, and women's embroidery sent out in the spring by Thorgils.
Directly Biorn saw Grettir he turned red, and pretended not to recognize him; but Grettir went to him at once and said:
"Now has come the time when we two can settle our differences."
"Oh," said Biorn, "that is soon done. I don't object to paying a trifle."
"The time for paying is over," said Grettir. "Thorgils offered an indemnity for your insolence, and you refused to consent to it."
Then Biorn saw that there was no help for him but that he must fight. So he girded him for the conflict, and he and Grettir went down on the sand, and they fought.
The fight did not last long. Grettir's sword cut him that he fell and died.
When the news reached Thorgils, he got ready, and came by boat as fast as he could to see the earl at Drontheim. He found the earl very angry, but he said to him:
"I am a kinsman of the fallen man, and I know that he treated Grettir with intolerable insolence, and that he refused every compromise. Then remember what a benefit has been done to the country by Grettir, who ridded it of the Red Rovers, Thorir wi' the Paunch and Ogmund the Bad."
Thorfin also came to Drontheim when he heard of the straits into which Grettir had come through killing Biorn. The earl called a council on the matter, and said he would not come to a decision till he had heard what Biorn's brother Hiarandi had to say on the matter. Hiarandi was a violent man, and he was very wroth. He would hear of no patching up of the matter, and he vowed he would not, as he expressed it, "bring his brother into his purse." As already said, it was customary when a man had been killed to offer a sum of money to the next of kin, and if he accepted the money the quarrel was at an end. When we now speak of "pocketing an injury," reference is made to this same ancient usage, by which every offence was estimated at so much money, and if the wronged man took money for the offence committed against him, he was saidto pocket it. When the earl went into the matter, and heard how Grettir had been wronged and outraged by Biorn, he gave his decision that Grettir had not acted contrary to law, and that Biorn had justly forfeited his life. Thorfin offered the sum of money which the earl considered was sufficient to atone to the relations for the death of Biorn, but Hiarandi refused absolutely to touch it.
Then Thorfin knew that Grettir's life was in danger, for Hiarandi would certainly try to take it; so he begged his kinsman Arinbiorn to go about with Grettir, and keep on the look-out against the mischief that threatened.
Now it fell out one day that Grettir and Arinbiorn were walking down a street in Drontheim when their way led before a narrow lane opening into it. They did not see any danger in the way, and were unaware of this lane. But just as they had passed it a man jumped out from behind, in the shadow, swinging an axe, and he struck at Grettir between the shoulder-blades. Fortunately, Arinbiorn had looked round at the lane, and he saw the man leap out, so he suddenly dragged Grettir forward with such a jerk that Grettir fell on his knee. This saved his life, for the axe came on his shoulder-blade, made a gash that cut to his armpit, and then the axe buried itself in the roadway. Instantly Grettir started to his feet, turned round, and with his short sword smote in the very nick of time as the man, who was Hiarandi, was pulling up his axe to cut at Grettir again. Grettir's sword fell on his upper arm near the shoulder, and cut it off. Then out rushed some servants of Hiarandi on Arinbiorn and Grettir, who set their backs against a house-wall and defended themselves with such valour that they killed or put to flight all who had assailed them.
Now, this had been a base and cowardly attempt on the life of Grettir, and Hiarandi richly deserved his fate. But the earl was exceedingly angry when he heard the news, and he called a council together. Thorfin and Grettir attended, and the earl angrily charged Grettir with having committed great violence, and being the cause of the death of Hiarandi and some of his servants.
Grettir acknowledged this; but showed his wound, and stated how he had been attacked from behind; how his life had been saved by the promptitude of Arinbiorn, and how he had but defended himself against enemies who sought his life.
"I wish you had been killed," said the earl, "and then there would have been an end to these disorders."
"You would not have a man not raise his hands to save his head?" said Grettir.
"I see one thing," exclaimed the earl. "Ill luck attends you, and you are doomed to commit violences wherever you are."
The end of it was that Earl Sweyn said he would not have Grettir to live in Norway any longer, lest he should be the cause of fresh troubles. But he remained over the third winter, and next spring sailed for Iceland, the time of his outlawing being ended.
CHAPTER X.
OF GRETTIR'S RETURN.
Iceland Once More—Life's Bitter Lessons—Grettir Pays Audun a Visit—Some Icelandic Terms—Byres and Sels—A Chief's Hall—The Return of Audun—Grettir's Second Wrestle with Audun—Bard Interposes—The Cousins Reconciled
Iceland Once More—Life's Bitter Lessons—Grettir Pays Audun a Visit—Some Icelandic Terms—Byres and Sels—A Chief's Hall—The Return of Audun—Grettir's Second Wrestle with Audun—Bard Interposes—The Cousins Reconciled
When Grettir came back to Biarg, he found his father so old and infirm as to be no more able to stir abroad, and Atli managed the farm for him along with Illugi, Grettir's youngest brother, now grown up to be a big boy. Grettir was now aged eighteen, but he looked and was a man. Illugi was about fifteen, a gentle, pleasant boy. He and the kindly, careful Atli were as unlike Grettir as well could be; they avoided quarrels, they had a civil word for every one, and took pains to make themselves agreeable, whether to guests in their house, or when staying anywhere, to their hosts. Grettir never troubled himself to be courteous or to be obliging to anyone. Now that he was back from Norway he was rather disposed to think much of himself as a man more brave and audacious than his fellows, for, had he not killed twelve rovers, broken into a barrow, slain a bear, and been the death of one man in a duel, and another who had attempted to assassinate him? Atli did not much like his manner, and cautioned him not to be overbearing whilst at home, lest he should involve himself in fresh troubles. But words were wasted on Grettir. He was not the fellow to listen to advice, but one of those men who must learn the bitter lessons of life by personal experience. It is so with men always. Some, who are thoughtful, see what God's law is which is impressed on all society, and listen to what others have found out as the lessons taught them by their lives, so they are able to go out equipped against the trials and difficulties of life. But others will neither look nor listen, and such have to go through every sort of adversity, till they have learned the great truths of social life, and perhaps they only acquire them when it is too late to put them in practice.
It is with laws and courtesies of life as with the three R's. A man will fare badly who cannot read, write, and cipher. If he learns these accomplishments as a child, he does well; he is furnished for the struggle of life, and starts on the same footing as other men; but if as a child he is morose and indifferent, and refuses to learn, then all through his life he is met with difficulties, owing to his ignorance, and he finds that he must learn to read, write, and do sums; and he has to acquire these in after years with much less ease than he might have learnt as a child, and after he has lost many chances of getting on which might have been seized, had he known these things before.
Grettir's temper on his return may be judged by one incident that happened almost directly. He had not forgotten his struggle on the ice with his cousin Audun, and he was resolved to have another trial of strength with him. So he had not been home many days before he rode over the hill to Audunstead in his best harness, and with a beautiful saddle on his horse that had been given him by Thorfin. The time was that of hay, and he saw the field round Audun's farm full of rich grass, ready to be cut. He took the bridle off his horse and turned it into Audun's meadow. This was not out of thoughtlessness, but out of insolence, and was intended to exasperate Audun. In Iceland grass grows very little, and only fit to be cut for hay round the farms in what is called thetun, where it is richly dressed with stable-dung. Consequently hay is very scarce and very precious. The grass never grows much longer than one's fingers, and so even in the tun it is not plentiful. He knocked at the door of the farm and asked for his cousin, and was told that Audun had gone to the highlandselto fetch curds, and would be back later. Theselwas a farm on the highland, only occupied in summer, when the cattle were driven to the moors and hills to feed on the grass there, and to save that in the lowlands against winter.
Here a word or two must be said about Icelandic names of places and people. When Iceland was colonized, those who first settled in the land and built farms, called the places after their own names in a great many cases; they called them so-and-so'sstead, or so-and-so'sbyor farm. Abyis the Scotch byre, and in Icelandic isbœr, pronounced exactly like the Scotch word. Wherever, in the north and east of England, Norse settlers came, there we find names of places ending in the same way, and we know that these were farms and dwellings of old Norse settlers. Thus in Northumberland, Yorkshire, and Lincolnshire, are plenty of Norse place-names. Near Thirsk is Thirkelby or Thorkel's-byre, near Ripon is Enderby or Andrew's-byre. Not only so, but where there are high hills there we find alsosels, that is summer-farms, like the Alps to which the cattle are driven in Switzerland. Next as to the names of people. What is a little puzzling to remember is the number of persons whose names begin with Thor. Thor, the god of thunder, was regarded with the highest reverence by the Icelanders; they thought of him even more than they did of Odin, the chief god of all, who had one eye, and his one fiery eye was the sun. Thor was called the Redbeard, and the aurora borealis was thought to be his waving red-beard in the sky. The thunderbolt they regarded as his hammer. To show their respect for him, children were named after him: Thor-grim means Thor's wrath; Thor-kel, Thor's kettle, in which the sacrificial meat was cooked in offering to Thor; Thor-gil was Thor's boy or servant; Thor-hall was Thor's flint spear-head, and so on. The Northumbrian king, St. Osmund, takes his name from the Hand of God, and the name is the same as Asmund, the father of Grettir. Oswald means the elect of the god; in Icelandic the name would be Aswald.
When Grettir found that Audun was from home, he went into the hall and lay down on the bench nearest the door. The hall was dark.
The halls of the Icelandic chiefs were like bodies of churches, and were divided into a nave with side aisles; and were lighted by windows in a clere-story that were covered with the skin of the lining of a sheep's stomach, to let in light and keep out cold, because they had no glass. In the side aisles were the beds of those who lived in the house, some with doors and shutters, which could be fastened from within; and a man in danger of his life would so sleep. He would go to bed, and then close himself in and lock the shutters, that no one could get at him when he was asleep. The fires and benches and tables were in the nave, or middle of the great hall. Over the partitions for the beds were hung shields and swords and spears, and on grand occasions hangings were put up all along the sides, hiding the beds and berths in the side aisles. The arrangement in an Icelandic house at the present day is much the same, only on a very much reduced scale. The people live and eat and sleep in the same room, like the saloon-cabin of a ship, with the berths round the walls.
Audun arrived in the afternoon with a horse that carried curds in skins on its back; that is to say, skins were made into bottles, as is still common in Palestine. When he saw that a horse with a saddle on it was wandering about in his meadow, trampling down the grass and eating it, he was very vexed; and throwing one bottle of curd over his back, and hanging another in front on his breast to counterbalance it, he ran into the house to ask who had done this.
The hall was dusky, and Audun's eyes were accustomed to the bright summer-light. As he entered Grettir put out his foot; Audun did not see it, and stumbled over it, fell on the skin of curds and burst it. Then he jumped up, very angry, and asked who had played him this scurvy trick. Grettir named himself, and said he had come over about that matter of the wrestle on the ice. Audun, still very irate, all at once stooped, picked up the burst skin, and dashed it in Grettir's face, smothering him with curds. Then he threw down the other curd-bottle, and began to wrestle with Grettir. They swung up and down the hall, kicking over the benches, now upon the floor, then on the stone-paved fire-hearth in the midst; then they crashed against the walls and pillars of the bed-chambers, and as they did so the shields and weapons hung over them clashed like bells. Some frightened servant-maids came in, and ran out again in alarm, calling for aid.
Audun felt now that Grettir had outgrown him in strength, but he would not give in; then they slipped on the curd and both fell, parted for a moment, rose, and flew at each other once more. Again, up and down, banging, stumbling, writhing in each other's arms, twisting legs round each other, to try to trip each other up, and ever Grettir bearing Audun backwards, but never wholly mastering him. Audun could not trust his cousin, for though they were akin, and though he had not really done him an injury, there was no telling to what a pitch Grettir's blood might mount and blind him; so as they wrestled, Audun took care to twist the short sword out of Grettir's belt and throw it away. As, to do this, he had to disengage his hand from Grettir's shoulder, he lost an advantage. Grettir managed to trip him, and throw him flat on his back.
At that moment, fortunately, a man, big, wearing a red kirtle, and in full harness, entered the hall and asked what was the meaning of the noise and fight? As he did not receive an immediate answer, he came to the rescue of Audun, and drew Grettir from him.
"We are only in play with each other," said Grettir.
"Rather rough play," said the man, "and likely to end in tears rather than laughter."
"Who are you that interfere?" asked Grettir.
"My name is Bard."
Then Audun scrambled to his feet.
"What is the reason of this rough play?" asked Bard.
Then Grettir answered, by singing:
"Prithee, Audun, will you sayHow, upon the ice one day,You to throttle did essay?Now, for that I this have done,On Audun honour I have won;Curds and wrestle make good fun."
"Prithee, Audun, will you sayHow, upon the ice one day,You to throttle did essay?Now, for that I this have done,On Audun honour I have won;Curds and wrestle make good fun."
"Prithee, Audun, will you say
How, upon the ice one day,
You to throttle did essay?
Now, for that I this have done,
On Audun honour I have won;
Curds and wrestle make good fun."
"Oh, I see," said Bard; "fighting out an old grudge. I have nothing to say against that. Now, shake hands, and be loving cousins again."
Audun held out his hand, and Grettir agreed to let the matter end thus. But he was dissatisfied, and ever after bore Bard a grudge. However, he never again wrestled with Audun, and remained on good terms with him.
CHAPTER XI.
THE HORSE-FIGHT.
Atli's Roan—The Coming Fight—Unfair Play—Grettir Retaliation—Smouldering Fire
Atli's Roan—The Coming Fight—Unfair Play—Grettir Retaliation—Smouldering Fire
One of the rude and cruel sports that amused the Icelanders in summer time was horse-fighting. A smooth piece of turf was chosen, and was staked round. Into this inclosure two or sometimes more horses were introduced, and a man attended each, who urged on his own horse, armed with a goad. By means of these goads the horses were stung to madness, and attacked each other, biting each other savagely. Now, Atli had a beautiful roan, with a black mane, which he and his old father were very proud of. Lower down the valley, near the sea, was a farm called Mais, in which lived a bonder named Kormak, and his brother; they had in their house a man called Odd the Foundling, a sly, captious fellow, who, like Grettir, made verses; but his verses were not generally thought to be so good as those of Grettir. On the opposite side of the river is a hot-spring; it is still hot, but not so hot as it was in those days, when it boiled up and poured forth a cloud of steam, and ran in a scalding rill down to the river. There was a convenient level place near the river for a horse-fight, and it stood above the water on one side rather steeply, so that it needed only fencing on three sides. Kormak had a brown horse that fought well, and it was resolved that autumn to have a fight between the horse of Kormak and the roan of Atli. Odd was to goad on Kormak's brown, and Grettir offered himself to his brother to run with the roan. Atli did not much like the proposal, as he feared Grettir's temper; but he could not well decline his offer, so he said, "I will consent, brother; only I pray you, be peaceable, for we have to do with overbearing men, and it will be very unfortunate if a broil should come of this."
"If they begin, I shall not run away," said Grettir.
"Not if they begin; but be very careful not to provoke a quarrel."
"Quarrels come and are not made," said Grettir.
"That I do not hold," answered Atli.
The day of the horse-fight arrived, and the horses were led to the place of contest. They had been fed up and groomed for the occasion, and each had a band round his middle of colour, by which he who went with the horse could hold, and the goad of each was tied with a tuft of feathers at the head, stained the same colour as the belt about the horse.
The two horses were introduced within the inclosure, and were soon goaded into anger, and began to plunge, and snort, and snap at each other. The by-standers outside the railing cheered and shouted, and the horses seemed to understand that they were to do their best; so they pranced about each other, struck at each other, and tried to get round each other so as to bite the flank. At one moment the roan bit the side of the brown, and held. Odd ran his goad into the horse of Grettir to make it let go;—this was against the rules; he did it to save his own horse from a terrible wound. Grettir saw what he did, but he said nothing. Now the horses bore towards the river, and were rearing and plunging close to the edge, and the two men had much ado to hold on. Then Odd took the opportunity when Grettir's back was turned to drive at him with his goad between the shoulders, where was the great scar still red, and only just fully healed, that he had received from the axe of Hiarandi. It was a cruel blow, and this also was against all rule of fair play.
At that moment the roan reared, and instantly Grettir ran under him, and struck Odd with such a blow that he reeled back towards the water edge, and in so doing dragged the brown horse he was holding over the edge, and both went down into the water together. The river was very full with the melted snows, and Odd was brought ashore with difficulty. It was found that three of his ribs were broken; but whether with the blow dealt by Grettir, or by his fall on the rock, or by the hoof of the horse as it fell and struggled in the river, cannot be said; but the party of Kormak, of course, charged Grettir with having broken Odd's ribs with his stick, and they flew to arms, and threatened the party from Biarg. However, the people of the nearest vales and firths interfered, and no bloodshed ensued. But the men of Mais and of Biarg separated bearing each other much ill-will, each charging the other with having broken the laws of the sport.
Atli did not say what he felt, he was greatly annoyed; but Grettir was less careful of his words, he said that the matter was by no means ended, and that he hoped there would be a meeting between the men of Mais and the men of Biarg, and then—it would not be a fight of horses, but of men; not a biting of horses, but of sharp blades.
CHAPTER XII.
OF THE FIGHT AT THE NECK.
The Desolate Moor—Grettir challenges Kormak—Oxmain comes on the Scene—Slow-coach taunts Grettir—Grettir's Vexation
The Desolate Moor—Grettir challenges Kormak—Oxmain comes on the Scene—Slow-coach taunts Grettir—Grettir's Vexation
The next fiord on the west of that into which the river that flowed past Biarg poured was called the Ramsfirth, and at the head of it lived Grettir's married sister.
In the following summer, that is in 1014, Grettir paid his sister a visit; he had with him two servant-men from Biarg, and he spent three days and nights at his sister's. Whilst there, news reached him that Kormak, who had been away from Mais for a week or two, was on his road home, and who was now staying at a house called Tongue. Grettir at once made ready to depart, and his brother-in-law sent two men with him, for it was not safe that Grettir should have only two churls with him, as there was ill blood between him and Kormak about that affair of the horse-fight.
A high, long shoulder of desolate moor lies between the Ramsfirth and the Westriver-dale, in which is a confluent of the river that flows past Biarg. This shoulder rises to the north into a great hump, called Burfell, and on the saddle is a little lake. A very fine view is obtained from this shoulder of moor over the northern immense bay of Hunafloi, towards the glaciers and mountains of that curious excrescence of land that lies on the north-west of Iceland. I know exactly the road taken by Grettir on this occasion, for I have ridden over it. Along the top of this shoulder the rocks are scraped by glaciers, that must at one time have occupied the whole centre of the island, and have slowly slidden down into the firths on all sides. Here, what is curious is, that the rocks are furrowed, just as if carved with a graving tool, in lines from south to north, showing the direction from which the glaciers slipped down. Now, on the slope of this bit of upland is a great stone poised on a point, which I have seen. Grettir came to this stone, and spent a long time in trying to upset it. It is called Grettir's-heave to this day. The men who were with him rather wondered at him why he wasted time over this, instead of pushing on. But his sharp eye had noticed the party of Kormak leaving Tongue, and he was bent on an encounter. He thought that if Odd had seen him going over the hill he would make a lampoon about him running away from his sister's house the moment he heard that danger was threatening. So he determined to tarry till Kormak came up and fight him. He had not long to wait, for presently over the top of the hill came Kormak with Odd and some others. Grettir at once rode to meet them, and said, "Now we have our weapons on both sides, let us fight like men of good birth, and not with sticks as churls."
Then Kormak turned to his men and bade them accept the challenge and fight.
Accordingly they ran at one another and fought. Grettir bade his two serving-men stand behind his back and defend that, and he, sweeping his longsword from left to right, went forward against Kormak. Thus they fought for a while, and some were wounded on both sides.
Now it so happened that at a rich farm in the Ramsfirth-dale lived a well-to-do, and very strong man, called Thorbiorn—that is, Thor's Bear—nicknamed Oxmain. He had ridden that day over Burfell-heath, with a party, and was now returning. As he came along he heard shouts and the clashing of arms, so he quickened his pace, and presently came in sight of the fighters. He at once ordered his men to dash in between the combatants. But by this time the passions of those engaged were so furious that they would not be separated. Grettir sweeping his long-sword about him strode forward, and the men of Kormak fell back before him. Down went two of those who were with Kormak, and one servant of Atli, Grettir's brother, was killed.
[image]GRETTIR CHALLENGES KORMAK AND HIS PARTY.
[image]
[image]
GRETTIR CHALLENGES KORMAK AND HIS PARTY.
Then Thorbiorn Oxmain raised his great voice and roared out, that he and his party would take sides against the first man who dealt another blow. Grettir saw that it would hardly do if Thorbiorn Oxmain brought all his force against him, so he gave up the battle; but they did not part till every one of those engaged was wounded, and two were killed on one side, and one on the other. Grettir was ill pleased that the affray had ended in this manner, and he felt resentment against Oxmain for his interference. Unfortunately, Oxmain's brother, who went by the name of the Slow-coach, made fun of the matter, and laughed about Grettir sneaking away from the fight directly he saw that he was getting the worst of it. Whatever he said was reported at Biarg, and, as may well be imagined, did not improve Grettir's temper, or liking for Oxmain and Slow-coach. Nothing further occurred between him and Kormak, probably he and Kormak were content with the trial of strength that had taken place, and were disinclined to renew a profitless contest.
Atli took no notice of the loss of his house-churl; he desired peace, and not a stirring afresh of the fires of discord. To his peaceable behaviour it was doubtless due that the quarrel with Kormak came to an end. But the vexation felt by Grettir against Oxmain for his meddlesomeness, and against Slow-coach for his gibes, rankled in his breast.
CHAPTER XIII.
HOW GRETTIR AND AUDUN MADE FRIENDS.
Audun's Pedigree—His relation to Grettir—Grettir's-heaves—In Willowdale—The Place called Tongue—A very strange Tale
Audun's Pedigree—His relation to Grettir—Grettir's-heaves—In Willowdale—The Place called Tongue—A very strange Tale
Grettir remained through the autumn at Biarg, after the skirmish at the Neck, till September, and then he thought he would ride away east and see Audun again, with whom he had had that little ruffle that was almost a quarrel, and which was fortunately interrupted by the entrance of Bard. Audun was a cousin, though not a near one, and Grettir had no desire that any bad blood should exist between kinsfolk. Audun belonged to what was called the Madpate family; for it had had in it at least two who had been so odd in their ways that folk said they were not quite right in their minds. The relationship will easily be understood by a look at the pedigree. It will be remembered that old Onund Treefoot, who had settled in Iceland, had to wife secondly Thordis, an Icelandic woman, and his son by her was Thorgrim Grizzlepate, and this Thorgrim bought the estate and house of Biarg about the year 935. Onund Treefoot died in or about 920, and then his widow Thordis married again a man called Audun Skokull, and they had a son who was called Asgeir, who settled in Willowdale, and either went off his head or proved so queer in his ways that folks called him Madpate. This Madpate married and had a son Audun, and a daughter Thurid who married away west into a very good family; and she had a son called Thorstein Kuggson, of whom we shall hear more presently. Audun of Willowdale's son was Madpate the Second, and the lad Audun who wrestled with Grettir and burst the bottle of curds was the son of this Madpate the Second. Consequently the relationship to Grettir was through Grettir's great-grandmother, and Audun belonged to a generation younger than that of Grettir, because Grettir was the son of Asmund's old age. Moreover, Asmund's father Thorgrim had married somewhat late in life, whereas all the Madpate family had dashed into marriage at a very early age. Thus it came about that Grettir's great-grandmother was Audun's great-great-grandmother, and that, nevertheless, Audun was somewhat older than Grettir.
Grettir rode straight up over the hill behind his house. Now this hill like the Neck, already described, is rather curious, for on it are a number of rocks that have been deposited by glaciers, and not only so, but they have been dragged along by ice, scratching the rocks over which they were driven forward, and so these beds of rock are rubbed and scored with lines made by the stones forced over them by ice. Above Biarg there is one large stone that has scratched a deep furrow in the bed of rock and then has stopped at the end of the furrow it had itself scored. This remarkable phenomenon tells us of a time when the whole of the centre of Iceland was covered with glaciers, like the centre of Greenland now. These glaciers slided down the slopes of the hills, and were thrust along to the sea, where they broke off and floated away as icebergs.
Nowadays folk in Iceland do not understand these odd stones perched in queer places, which were deposited by the ancient glaciers, and they call them Grettir-taks or Grettir's-heaves. So the farmer at Biarg told me that the curious stone at the end of the furrow in the bed of rock on top of the hill was a Grettir-tak; it had been rubbed along the rock and left where it stands by Grettir. But I knew better. I knew that it was put there by an ancient glacier ages before Grettir was born, and before Iceland was discovered by the Norsemen. I have no doubt that in Grettir's time this stone was said to have been put there by some troll. Afterwards, when people ceased to believe in trolls, they said it was put there by Grettir.
Grettir's ride led him by a pretty little blue lake that lies folded in between high hills and has a stream flowing from it into a very large lake near Hop. But he did not follow the stream down; he crossed another hill, not very steep and high, and reached his cousin's house at Audun stead in Willowdale. Now this valley took its name from the woods of willows that grew in it when first settled, but at the present day none remain; all have in course of time been burnt for fuel, and except for scanty grass the Willowdale is very dreary-looking. We may be sure that Iceland presented a much more smiling and green appearance eight hundred or a thousand years ago than it does at present.
When Grettir came to Willowdale, Audun received him in a friendly manner, and Grettir made him a present of a handsome axe he had. He remained with him some little while, and they talked over old tales of Onund Treefoot and his doings, and every shadow of rivalry and anger disappeared, so that they parted at length in the best of tempers and as true and affectionate cousins.
Audun would have desired to keep Grettir there longer, but Grettir would not stay. He desired to get on to the head of Waterdale, where lived an uncle of his called Jokull, his mother's brother, at a place called Tongue.
So he rode away over the moor, and reached Tongue. Here a stream comes rushing through a gorge in a series of waterfalls, and meets another stream that comes down a valley called the Valley of Shadows further east.
Tongue is so called because it lies on a grassy slope exactly in the tongue of land between these two streams. There is now a good farm there and a church, and there I stayed a few days. At the back of Tongue the hill rises rapidly to a fell called Tongue-heath. This hill was covered with snow when Grettir arrived. This uncle Jokull was glad to see him.
He was a rough and violent man, very big and strong; and it was clear to everyone that his nephew took after his mother's family more than his father's, for there was a strong likeness both in build and face and in character between Jokull and Grettir.
He received Grettir heartily in his rough, blunt way, and bade him stay there as long as he liked. Jokull had been a seafaring man, and had made much by his merchant trips. He would probably have been a richer and more respected man had he not been so violent and overbearing and ready to pick quarrels.
Now Grettir had not been at Tongue three days before he heard a very strange tale. Jokull's mouth was full of it, and with good reason, for the events had taken place not an hour's ride distant. It was a tale about the nearest farm in the Valley of Shadows, a farm called Thorhall's-stead, which was reported to be haunted; and so serious had affairs become there that no servants would remain, and the farmer and his family had been driven from house and home by the hauntings last winter, and had come and lodged with Jokull at Tongue, and he had entertained them for some two or three months. Now this was not a case of mere fancy and fantastic fear. It was something very real and very marvellous. But it is a long story, and must be consigned to another chapter.