Grettir the Outlaw 7

Grettir the Outlaw 7

The thralls, content that the pirates had cleared out of the yard, did

not trouble themselves to pursue them, but went into the farmhouse. The

good woman in vain urged them to go after and succour Grettir. They

thought they had done quite enough. It is true, they had neither killed

nor wounded anyone, but they had seen some men killed. So Grettir got

no help from them. He was still in the boat-house, and he had this

advantage: the boat-house was open to the air on the side that faced the

sea, whilst the further side was closed with a door, consequently

Grettir was himself in shadow. But the moon shone on the water, and he

could see the black figures of the rovers cut sharply against this

silver background. So he could see where to strike, whilst he himself

was unseen.

 

One stroke from an oar reached him on the shoulder, and for the moment

numbed his arm; but he speedily recovered sensation, and killed two more

of the ruffians; then the remaining four made a dash together, past him,

through the door, and separating into pairs, fled in opposite

directions. Grettir went after one of the couples and tracked them to a

neighbouring farm, where they dashed into a granary and hid among the

straw. Unfortunately for them most of the wheat had been thrashed out,

so that only a few bundles remained. Grettir shut and bolted the door

behind him, then chased the poor wretches like rats from corner to

corner, till he had cut them both down. Then he opened the door, and

cast the corpses outside.

 

In the meanwhile the weather was changing, the sky had become overcast

with a thick snow fog that rolled up from the sea, so that Grettir, on

coming out, saw that he must abandon the pursuit of the remaining two.

Moreover, his arm pained him, his strength was failing him, and a sense

of overpowering fatigue stole over him.

 

The housewife had placed a lamp in a window of a loft as a guide to

Grettir in the fog; the stupid house-thralls could not be induced by her

to go out in search of him, and she was becoming uneasy at his

protracted absence. The fog turned into small snow, thick and blinding,

and Grettir struggled through it with difficulty, as the weariness he

felt became almost overpowering. At last he reached the farm and

staggered in through the door. He could hardly speak. He went to the

table, took a horn of mead, drank some, and then threw himself down

among the rushes on the floor by the fire, full armed grasping the

sword, and in a moment was asleep.

 

He did not wake for twelve hours; but the cautious and prudent housewife

had sent out the carles in search of the pirates. The dead bodies were

found, some in the yard, some in the boat-house; then Grettir woke and

came to them and pointed out in what direction the only remaining two

had run. The snow had fallen so thick that their traces could not be

followed, but before nightfall they were discovered, dead, under a rock

where they had taken refuge; they had died of cold and loss of blood.

All the bodies were collected and a great cairn of stones was piled over

them.

 

When they had been buried, then the housewife made Grettir take the high

seat in the hall, and she treated him with the utmost respect, as he

deserved.

 

Time passed, and Thorfin prepared to return home; he dismissed his

guests, and he and his men got into their boat to return home. No

tidings had reached him of the events that had happened whilst he had

been away. The first thing he saw as he came rowing to his harbour was

his punt lying stranded. This surprised and alarmed him, and he bade his

men row harder. They ran to the boat-house, and then saw it occupied by

a vessel, on the rollers, which there was no mistaking; he knew it well,

it belonged to those redoubted pirates Thorir and Ogmund. For a moment

he was silent with the terror and grief that came on him. "The Red

Rovers!" he said, when he recovered the stunning sense of alarm. "The

Red Rovers are here—they are on my farm. God grant they have not hurt

my wife and daughter!"

 

Then he considered what was to be done, whether it was best to go at

once to the farm, or to make a secret approach to it from different

quarters, and surprise the enemy.

 

Grettir was to blame. He ought not to have allowed Thorfin to be thus

thrown into uncertainty and distress. He had seen the master’s boat

round the headland and enter the bay, but he would neither go himself to

meet him on the strand, nor suffer anyone else to go.

 

"I do not care even if the bonder be a bit disturbed at what he sees,"

said the young man.

 

"Then let me go," urged the wife.

 

"You are mistress, do as you like," said Grettir bluntly.

 

So the housewife and her daughter went down towards the boat-house, and

when Thorfin saw them he ran to meet them, greatly relieved but much

perplexed, and he clasped his wife to his heart and said, "God be

praised that you and my child are safe! But tell me how matters have

stood whilst I have been away, for I cannot understand the boat being

where I found it."

 

"We have been in grievous peril," answered his wife. "But the

shipwrecked boy whom you sheltered has been our protector, better than a

dozen men."

 

Then he said, "Sit down on this rock by me and tell me all."

 

They took each other by the hand and sat on a stone; and the attendants

gathered round, and the housewife told them the whole story from

beginning to end. When she spoke of the way in which the young

Icelander had led the tipsy rovers into the storehouse and fastened them

in, without their swords, the men burst into a shout of joy; and when

her tale was concluded, their exultant cries rang so loud that Grettir

heard them in the farmhouse.

 

Thorfin said nothing to interrupt the thread of his wife’s story; and

after she had done he remained silent, rapt in thought. No one ventured

to disturb him. Presently he looked up, and said quietly, "That is a

good proverb which says, ’Never despair of anyone.’ Now I must speak a

word with Grettir."

 

Thorfin walked with his wife to the farm, and when he saw Grettir he

held out both his hands to him, and thanked him.

 

"This I say to you," said Thorfin, "which few would say to their best of

friends—that I hope some day you may need my help, and then I will prove

to you how thankful I am for what you have done. I can say no more."

 

Grettir thanked him, and spent the rest of the winter at his house. The

story of what he had done spread through all the country, and was much

praised, especially by such as had suffered from the violence of the Ked

Rovers. But Thorfin made to Grettir a present, in acknowledgment of

what he had done; and that present was the sword that had hung above his

bed, with which Grettir had killed so many of the rovers. Now,

concerning this sword a tale has to be told.

 

 

 

 

*CHAPTER VII.*

 

*THE STORY OF THE SWORD.*

 

_The Light on the Cliff—The Grave of Karr the Old—The Visit to

the Ness—The Chamber of the Dead—The Shape on the Throne—In the

Dead Man’s Arms—A Fearful Wrestle—The Dead Vanquished—The

Dragon’s Treasure—The Tale of the Sword—The Two Swords of

Grettir_

 

 

Some little while before the slaying of the Red Rovers, a strange event

had taken place.

 

Grettir had made the acquaintance of a man called Audun, who lived at a

little farm at some distance from the house of Thorfin, and he walked

over there occasionally to sit and talk with his friend. As he returned

late at night he noticed that a strange light used to dance at the end

of a cliff that overhung the sea, at the end of a headland; a lonely

desolate headland it was, without house or stall near it. Grettir had

never been there, and as it was so bare, he knew that no one lived on

that headland, so he could not account for the light. One day he said

to Audun that he had seen this strange light, which was not steady but

flickered; and he asked him what it meant.

 

Audun at once became very grave, and after a moment’s hesitation said,

"You are right. No one lives on that ness, but there is a great mound

there, under which is buried Karr the Old, the forefather of your host

Thorfin; and it is said that much treasure was buried with him. That is

why the ghostly light burns above the mound, for—you must know that

flames dance over hidden treasure."

 

"If treasure be hidden there, I will dig it up," said Grettir.

 

"Attempt nothing of the kind," said Audun, "or Thorfin will be angry.

Besides, Karr the Old is a dangerous fellow to have to deal with. He

walks at night, and haunts all that headland and has scared away the

dwellers in the nearest farms. No one dare live there because of him.

That is why the Ness is all desolate without houses."

 

"I will stay the night here," said Grettir, "and to-morrow we will go

together to the Ness, and take spade and pick and a rope, and I will see

what can be found."

 

Audun did not relish the proposal, but he did not like to seem

behindhand with Grettir, and he reluctantly agreed to go with him.

 

So next day the two went out on the Ness together. They passed two

ruined farmhouses, the buildings rotting, the roofs fallen in. Those

who had lived in them had been driven away by the dweller in the old

burial mound, or barrow. The Norse name for these sepulchral mounds is

_Haug_, pronounced almost like How; and where in England we have places

with the names ending in _hoe_, there undoubtedly in former times were

such mounds. Thus, in Essex are Langenhoe and Fingringhoe, that is to

say the Long Barrow and Fingar’s How. Also, the Hoe, the great walk at

Plymouth above the sea, derives its name from some old burial mound now

long ago destroyed.

 

The Ness was a finger of land running out into the sea, and on it grew

no trees, only a little coarse grass; at the end rose a great circular

bell-shaped mound, with a ring of stones set round it, to mark its

circumference. Grettir began to dig at the summit, and he worked hard.

The day was short, and the sun was touching the sea as his pickaxe went

through an oak plank, into a hollow space beneath, and he knew at once

that he had struck into the chamber of the dead. He worked with

redoubled energy, and tore away the planks, leaving a black hole beneath

of unknown depth, but which to his thinking could not be more than seven

feet beneath him. Then he called to Audun for the rope. The end he

fastened round his waist, and bade his friend secure the other end to a

pole thrown across the pit mouth. When this was done, Audun cautiously let Grettir down into the chamber of the dead.