grettir the outlaw 23

grettir the outlaw 23

A troll is a mountain demon or giant.

 

 

Now, it must be known that this story is not manifestly absurd, for the

Icelandic cattle are very small, like Brittany cows, and bear the same

relation to a good English ox that a pony does to a horse. Nevertheless

the feat was only such as a strong man could have accomplished. It had

taken the two brothers to carry the ox down into the boat, and here was

Grettir alone carrying him up hill.

 

This deed of Grettir was much talked of, and this made Thorgeir, the

elder of the foster-brothers, very jealous of Grettir, and he hated him,

and sought to do him an injury. One day after Yule, Grettir went down

to the bath that was made by turning a stream of hot water from one of

the natural boiling springs into a walled basin into which also cold

water could be turned from a rill. In former times the Icelanders were

very particular about bathing, and were a clean people. At the present

day they never bathe at all, and such of the old baths as remain are out

of order and full of grass and mud.

 

Thorgeir said to his brother, "Let us go now and try how Grettir will

start, if I set upon him as he comes away from his bath."

 

"I do not like this," answered Thormod; "you will vex our host, and get

no advantage over Grettir."

 

"I will try what I can do," said the elder; and he took his axe, hid it

under his cloak, and went down towards the bathing-place.

 

When he had reached it he said, "Grettir, there is a talk that you have

boasted that no man could make you take to your heels."

 

"I never said that," answered Grettir, "but anyhow you are not the man

to make me run."

 

Then Thorgier swung up his axe and would have cut at Grettir; but

Grettir suspected that the man meant mischief, and he was ready, so that

the instant he drew out the axe and swung it, Grettir clashed forward at

him, struck him in the chest and sent him staggering back, so that he

sprawled his length on the ground.

 

Then Thorgeir shouted to his brother, "Why do you stand by and let this

savage kill me?"

 

Thormod then laid hold of Grettir, and endeavoured to drag him away, but

his strength was not sufficient to effect this.

 

At that moment up came Arison, the bonder, and he bade them be quiet and

have nought to do with Grettir.

 

So the brothers stood up, and Thorgeir pretended it was all sport, that

he had only proposed giving Grettir a fright; but the bonder hardly

believed him. As for the younger of the brothers, it was well seen that

he had been drawn into the matter against his will. So the winter

passed, and peace was kept. This little struggle with Grettir had shown

Thorgeir that it would be ill for him to have dealings with a man so

prompt and strong as Grettir, and he controlled himself and did not seek

to pick a quarrel with him any more. At the same time he did not like

him any better. Thorgils Arison got great credit, when it was reported

that throughout an entire winter he had maintained such turbulent men as

the foster-brothers and Grettir under his roof without their having

fought.[#]

 

 

[#] There is an entire saga relating to the history of these brothers,

called the Foster-Brothers’ Saga.

 

 

But when spring came then they went away, all of them, away over the

heaths and moors of the interior.

 

When we say that Grettir was on the heaths and moors, it must not be

supposed that the region so called was at all like the moors of Scotland

or England. The heaths and moors of Iceland are upland desert regions

with only here and there a scanty growth of vegetation, a little

whortleberry, no heath at all, but vast tracts of broken stone and mud

and black sand, with perhaps here and there an occasional hill of yellow

sandstone. Most of the rock is perfectly black, and breaks into pieces

with sharp angles. What is called Icelandic moss is a black lichen that

grows on the stones, and there is a very little gray moss to be seen.

Where there is a burn or a stream a little grass may grow, but the

amount is small indeed.

 

 

 

 

*CHAPTER XXV.*

 

*HOW GRETTIR WAS WELL-NIGH HUNG.*

 

 

_The Law-man’s Judgment—Snorri’s Compromise—The Compromise

Declined—Grettir Helps Himself—The Spy—Thirty to One—An

Undesirable Prisoner—The Gallows for Grettir—Thorbiorg Saves

Grettir—Grettir Conquers Himself_

 

 

Now, after the slaying of Thorbiorn Oxmain, his kinsman Thorod took the

matter up, and rode to the great assize with a large train of men.

 

The relatives of Grettir also appeared at the assize, and they took

advice of Skapti, the law-man; and he said that Atli was slain a week

before the sentence of outlawry was pronounced against Grettir, that

Thorbiorn Oxmain was guilty of that, and his relatives must pay a heavy

fine for the murder. But he said that Grettir was an outlaw when he

slew Thorbiorn. Now being an outlaw he was outside the cognizance of

the law, he was as one not a native of the country, as one over whom the

law had no longer jurisdiction; that, therefore, his slaying of

Thorbiorn could not count as expiation of the slaying of Atli; that,

moreover, no suit against an outlawed man could stand—it was illegal:

that the only way in which Grettir could be brought into court was by

the removal of the sentence of outlawry, when at once he could be

prosecuted.

 

Thorod was disconcerted at this; for he could not bring an action

against Grettir, and the Biarg people did now bring an action against

him for the slaying of Atli, and the court gave sentence that he should

pay down two hundred ounces of silver as blood fine for Atli.

 

Now, at this court, Snorri the judge proposed a compromise. He

suggested that the fine should be let drop, and that Grettir should be

held scatheless, that the outlawry should be set aside, and the slaying

of Thorbiorn be put against the slaying of Atli, and so reconciliation

be made.

 

Thorod did not at all want to pay down two hundred ounces of silver, and

the Biarg family were very willing to have the outlawry done away with;

so both parties were quite willing to accept this compromise, but Thorir

of Garth had to be reckoned with. Grettir was outlawed at his suit for

the burning of his sons, and he must be brought to consent, or this

arrangement could not take place.

 

But Thorir was not to be moved. In vain did the law-man Snorri urge

him, and represent to him that Grettir, at large, an outlaw, was a

danger menacing the country, that he was driven to desperation, Thorir

absolutely refused to allow the sentence to be withdrawn. Not only so,

but he said he would set a higher price on his head than had been set on

the head of any outlaw before, and that was three marks of silver. Then

Thorod, not to be behind with him, offered three more.

 

Grettir resolved to get as much out of the way of his enemies as he

could, so he went into that strange excrescence, like a hand joined on

by a narrow wrist to Iceland, that extends to the north-west. In this

peninsula are two great masses of snow and glacier mountain, called

Glam-jokull and Drang-jokull. They do not rise to any great height,

hardly three thousand feet, but they are vast domes of snow, with

glaciers sliding from them to the firths, and these fall over the edges

of the precipitous cliffs in huge blocks of ice that float away on the

tide as icebergs. The largest of all the fiords that penetrates this

region is called the Ice-firth, and it runs between these great

mountains of snow and glaciers. At the extremity of the estuary the

valleys are well-wooded—that is to say, well-wooded for Iceland—with

birch-trees, for their valleys are very sheltered, and the sea-water

that roll in bears with it a certain amount of heat, for it has been

affected by the Gulf-stream.

 

One of these valleys is called Waterdale, and at the time of our story

there lived there a man named Vermund the Slim, and his wife’s name was

Thorbiorg; she was a big, fine woman. Another valley is Lang-dale.

Grettir went to Lang-dale—there he demanded of the farmers whatever he

wanted, food and clothing, and if they would not give him what he asked,

he took it. This was not to their taste at all, and they wished that

they were rid of Grettir. He could not remain long in one place, so he

rode along the side of the Ice-firth demanding food, and sleeping and

concealing himself in the woods. So in his course he came to the upland

pastures and dairy that belonged to Vermund Slim, and he slept there

many nights, and hid about in the woods.

 

The shepherds on the moors were afraid of him, and they ran down into

the valleys and told the farmers everywhere that there was a big strange

man on the heights, who took from them their curd and milk, and dried

fish, and that they were afraid to resist his demands. They did not

quite know what he was, whether a man or a mountain spirit.

 

So the farmers gathered together and took advice, and there were about

thirty of them. They set a shepherd to watch Grettir’s movements, and

let them know when he could be fallen upon. Now, it fell out one warm

day that Grettir threw himself down in a sunny spot to sleep. The

glistening beech leaves were flickering behind him, the rocks were

covered with the pale lemon flowers of the dry as, and between the

clefts of the stones masses of large purple-flowered geranium stood up

and made a glow of colour deep into the wood.