Grettir the Outlaw 12

Grettir the Outlaw 12

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.

 

[Illustration: 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_

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

*CHAPTER XIV.*

 

*THE VALE OF SHADOWS.*

 

 

_A Turning-point in Grettir’s Life—The Farm in the Valley—The

haunted Sheep-walks—A strange-looking Fellow—"Here is my

Hand"—Glam keeps Faith—Glam is missing—Following the Red

Track—The Ghost of Glam—Glam’s Successor—Thorgaut is

Missing—From Bad to Worse—Fate of the old Serving-man—Thorhall’s

Perplexity—Grettir offers Aid_

 

 

We have come now to an incident which formed a turning-point in

Grettir’s life. It is a very mysterious and inexplicable story, not one

that can be put aside as we have that of his fight in the tomb with Karr

the Old. This is a story even more gruesome. It relates to an event

that so shook Grettir’s nerves that he never after could endure to be

alone in the dark, and would risk all kinds of dangers to escape

solitude. How much of truth lies under this strange narrative we cannot

now say, but that something really did take place is certain from the

effect it had on Grettir ever after.

 

The richest valley for grass in all this quarter of Iceland, and the

most peopled, is the Waterdale. On the east rises a mountain ridge of

precipitous basaltic cliffs, down which leap waterfalls from the snows

above. The river that flows through this valley is fed by two main

streams that unite at the farm called Tongue. The stream on the east

rises a long way inland in a mass of lava, and flows through a valley so

narrow and so gloomy that it goes by the name of the Valley of Shadows.

The high ranges of moor and waste to the south shut off the southern

sun, and the lofty banks of mountain to east and west so close it in that it gets no sun morning or evening.