Grettir the Outlaw 11

Grettir the Outlaw 11

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 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_

 

 

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 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.