Grettir the Outlaw

Grettir thus attired sauntered between the booths erected on the headland, till he reached the spot where games were going on.

Now, Hialti and Thorbiorn Hook were the chief men in these sports. Hook was specially noisy and boisterous, and drove men together to the sports, and whether men liked it or not, he insisted on their attendance. He would take this man and that by the hands and drag him forth to the field, where the wrestling and other games went on.

Now, first wrestled those who were weakest, and then each man in turn, and great fun there was. But when most men had tried their strength except the very strongest, it was asked who would be a match for Hialti and The Hook. These two being the strongest and the roughest of all, went round inviting each man in turn to wrestle with them, but all declined.

Then Thorbiorn Hook, looking round, spied a tall fellow in the shabbiest and quaintest of suits, sitting by himself, speaking to no one. Thorbiorn walked up to him, laid his hands on his shoulders and asked him to wrestle.

The man sat still, and The Hook could not drag him from his seat.

"Well!" exclaimed The Hook, "no one else has kept his place before me to-day. Who are you?"

"Guest," answered Grettir shortly.

"A wished-for guest thou wilt be, if thou furnish some entertainment to the company," said Thorbiorn Hook.

Grettir answered, "I am indisposed to make a fool of myself before strangers. How am I to know, supposing that I give you a fall, that I shall not be set upon by you or your kindred, and be unfairly treated?"

Then many exclaimed that there should be fair play.

"It is all very well your saying Fair-play now; but will you say Fair-play, and stick to it, supposing I get the better of this man. You are all akin, or friends, and I am a stranger to you all."

Again he was assured that no one would resent what he did.

"But see," said Grettir, "I have not wrestled for many years, and have lost all skill in the matter."

Yet they pressed him the more.

Then he said, "I will wrestle with whom you will, if you will swear to show me no violence so long as I am among you as a guest."

This all agreed to, and an oath of safe conduct was made, the form of which is so curious that it must be given.

A man named Hafr recited the terms of the oath, and the rest agreed to it.

"Here set I peace among all men towards this man Guest, who sits before us, and in this oath I bind all magistrates and well-to-do bonders, and all men who bear swords, and all men whatsoever in this district, present or absent, named or unnamed. These are to show peace to, and give free passage to the aforenamed stranger, that he may sport, wrestle, make merry, abide with us and depart from us, without stay, whether he go by land or flood. He shall have peace where he is, in all places where he may be till he reaches his house whence he set out, so long and no longer.

"I set this treaty of peace between him and us, our kinsmen male and female, our servants and children. May the breaker of this compact be cast out of the favour of God and good men, out of his heavenly inheritance and the society of just men and angels. May he be an outcast from land to its farthest limits, far as men chase wolves, as Christians frequent churches, as heathen men offer sacrifices, as flame burns, earth produces herb, as baby calls its mother, and mother rocks her child; far as fire is kindled, ships glide, lightnings flicker, sun shines, snow lies, Finns slide on snow-shoes, fir-trees grow, falcons fly on a spring day with a breeze under their wings; far as heaven bends, earth is peopled, winds sweep the water into waves, churls till corn; he shall be banished from churches and the company of Christian men, from heathen folk, from house and den, from every house – save hell! Now let us be agreed whether we be on mountain or shore, on ship or skate, on ground or glacier, at sea or in saddle, as friend with friend, as brother with brother, as father with son, in this our compact. Lay we now hand to hand, and hold we true peace and keep every word of this oath."

Now, this formula is very curious. It must have been brought by the Icelandic settlers with them from Norway, for parts of it are inappropriate to their land. There are no Finns there, nor do fir-trees grow there, nor is any corn tilled. But all that about Christians is of later origin.

After a little hesitation the oath was taken by all.

Then said Grettir, "You have done well, only beware of breaking your oath. I am ready to do my part, without delay, to fulfil your wishes."

Thereupon he flung aside his hood and garments, and the assembled bonders looked at each other, and were disconcerted, for they saw that they had in their midst Grettir Asmund's son. They were silent, and thought that they had taken the oath somewhat unadvisedly, and they whispered the one into another, to find if there were not some loophole by which they might evade the obligation to observe the oath.

"Come now," said Grettir, "let me know your purpose, for I shall not long stand stripped. It will be worse for you than for me if you break your oath, for it will go down in story to the end of time that the men of Heron-ness swore and were perjured."

He received no answer. The chiefs moved away; some wanted to break the truce, and argued that an oath taken to an outlaw was not legally binding; others insisted that the oath must be observed. Then Grettir sang:

"Many trees-of-wealth (men) this morn,Failed the well-known well to know,Two ways turn the sea-flame-branches (men),When a trick on them is tried;Falter folk in oath fulfilling,Hafr's talking lips are dumb."

Then Tongue-stone said, "You think so, do you, Grettir? Well, I will say this of you, you are a man of dauntless courage. Look how the chiefs are deep in discussion how to deal with you."

Then Grettir sang:

"Shield-lifters (men) rubbing of noses,Shield-tempest-senders (men) shake beards,Fierce-hearted serpent's-lair-scatterers (men),Lay their heads one 'gainst another,Now that they know, are regrettingThe peace they have sworn to to-day."

In these staves a number of periphrases for men or warriors are used – and the use of these periphrases constitute the charm of these verses.

Then Hialti of Hof burst away from the rest, and said, "No, never, never shall it be said of us men of Heron-ness, that we have broken an oath because we have found it inconvenient to keep it. Grettir shall be at full liberty to go to his place in peace, and woe betide him who lays hand on him, to do him an injury. But an oath no longer binds us should he venture ashore again."

All except Thorbiorn Hook, Hialti's brother, agreed to this, and felt their minds and consciences relieved, that he had spoken out as a man of honour. And thus was seen how of those two brothers, rude and violent though both were, Hialti had some nobleness in him that was lacking in the other.

The wrestling began by Grettir being matched with Thorbiorn Hook, and after a very brief struggle Grettir freed himself from his antagonist, leaped over his back, caught him by the belt, lifted him off his legs, and flung him over his back. This is a throw called "showing the white mare," among Cornish wrestlers of the present day, and a very dangerous throw it is, for it sometimes breaks the back of the man thrown. The Hook, however, picked himself up, and the wrestling continued with unabated vigour, and it was impossible to tell which side had the mastery, for, though Grettir was matched against both brothers, and after each bout with one brother fell to with the other, he was never thrown down. After all three were covered with blood and bruises the match was closed, the judges deciding that the two brothers conjointly were not stronger than Grettir alone, though they were each of them as powerful as two ordinary able-bodied men.

Grettir at once left the place of gathering, rejecting all the entreaties of the farmers that he would leave Drangey. And, so, after all but The Hook had thanked him for his wrestling and praised his activity and strength, he departed. He was put across from Reykir to his island, and was received with open arms by Illugi.

There now they abode peaceably, and Grettir told his brother and his churl Glaum the story of what had taken place at the assize, and thus the summer wore away.

There was much talk through the island of Iceland about this adventure, and all good men approved the conduct of the men of the Skagafiord that they had kept the oath they had so inconsiderately taken.

CHAPTER XXXVII

OF HŒRING'S LEAP

The Piebald Ram – In want of Fire – Not born to be Drowned – Thorwald aids Grettir – A Stratagem – Hœring climbs the Cliff – Hœring's Leap

The smaller farmers began seriously to feel their want of the islet Drangey for pasture in summer, and, as there seemed no chance of their getting rid of Grettir, they sold their rights to Thorbiorn Hook, who set himself in earnest to devise a plan by which he might possess himself of the island.

When Grettir had been two winters on the island, he had eaten all the sheep except one piebald ram, with magnificent horns, which became so tame that he ran after them wherever they went, and in the evening came to the hut Grettir had erected and butted at the door till let in.

The brothers liked this place of exile, as there was no dearth of eggs and birds, besides which, some drift-wood was thrown upon the strand, and served as fuel.

Grettir and Illugi spent their days in clambering among the rocks, and rifling nests, and the occupation of the thrall was to collect drift timber and keep up the fire in the hut. He was expected to remain awake and watch the fire whilst the others slept. He got very tired of his life on the islet, became idle, morose, and reserved. One night, notwithstanding Grettir's warnings to him to be more careful, as they had no boat, he let the fire go out. Grettir was very angry, and told Glaum that he deserved a sound thrashing for his neglect. The thrall replied that he loathed the life he led; and that it seemed it was not enough to Grettir that he should keep him there as a prisoner, he must also maltreat him.

Grettir consulted his brother what was best to be done, and Illugi replied that the only thing that could be done was to await the arrival of a boat from the friendly farmer at Reykir.

"We shall have to wait long enough for that," said Grettir. "The bonders have taken it ill that he has favoured us, and he is now unwilling to be seen visiting Drangey. The only chance is for me to swim ashore and secure a light."

"Do not attempt that!" exclaimed Illugi. "That is what you did in Norway, and that led to all your misfortune."

"This case is different," answered Grettir. "Then I brought fire for ill-conditioned men, now it is for ourselves. Then I knew not who was on the other side, but now I can get the fire for the asking from Thorwald."

"But the distance is so great!" remonstrated Illugi.

"Do not fear for me," said Grettir; "I was not born to be drowned."

From Drangey to Reykir is, as already said, about five English miles.

Grettir prepared for swimming, by dressing in loose thin drawers and a sealskin hood; he tied his fingers together, that they might offer more resistance to the water when he struck out.

The day was fine and warm. Grettir started in the evening, when the tide was in his favour, setting in; and his brother anxiously watched him from the rocks. At sunset he reached the land, after having floated and swum the whole distance. Immediately on coming ashore, he went to the warm spring and bathed in it, before entering the house. The hall door was open, and Grettir stepped in. A large fire had been burning on the hearth, so that the room was very warm; Grettir was so thoroughly exhausted that he lay down beside the hot embers, and was soon fast asleep. In the morning he was found by the farmer's daughter, who gave him a bowl of milk, and brought her father to him. Thorwald furnished him with fire, and rowed him back to the island, astonished beyond measure at his achievement, in having swum such a distance.

Now, the farmers on the Skagafiord began to taunt Thorbiorn Hook with his unprofitable purchase of the island, and Hook was greatly irritated and perplexed what to do.

During the summer, a ship arrived in the firth, the captain of which was a young and active man called Hœring. He lodged with Thorbiorn Hook during the autumn, and was continually urging his host to row him out to Drangey, that he might try to climb the precipitous sides of the island. The Hook required very little pressing; and one fine afternoon he rowed his guest out to Drangey, and put him stealthily ashore, without attracting the notice of those on the height. For in some places the cliffs overhung, so that a boat passing beneath could not be seen from above. Now Hœring had lain in the bottom of the boat, covered with a piece of sailcloth, so that the brothers saw nothing of him as the boat was approaching the islet.

They saw and recognized Thorbiorn Hook and his churls, and at once drew up the ladder. Now it was whilst they were watching at the landing-place that Thorbiorn put Hœring out on another point, where the cliffs seemed possible to be climbed by a very skilful man, and then came on to the usual landing place, and there shouted to Grettir. Grettir replied, and then Thorbiorn began the usual arguments to persuade the outlaw to leave the isle. He promised to give him shelter in his house the winter, if he would do so. All was in vain. What he sought was to divert Grettir's attention so as to allow time and occasion for Hœring to climb the cliffs unobserved and unresisted.

The discussion went on but led to nothing. In the meantime Hœring had managed most cleverly to get up by a way never ascended by man before or after; and when he came to the top and had his feet on the turf, he saw where the brothers stood with their backs turned towards him, and he thought that now an opportunity had come for him to make himself a great name. Grettir suspected nothing, and continued talking to Thorbiorn, who was getting, or feigning to get, angry, and used big and violent words.

Now, as luck would have it, Illugi chanced to turn his head, and he saw a man approaching from behind.

Then he cried out, "Brother! Brother! Here comes a man at us with uplifted axe!"

"You go after him," said Grettir. "I will watch at the ladder."

So Illugi started to his feet and went to meet Hœring, and when the young merchant saw that he was discovered, he fled away across the islet, and Illugi went after him. And when Hœring came to the edge he leaped down, hoping to fall into the sea; but he had missed his reckoning, and he went upon some skerries over which the waves tossed, and broke every bone in his body, and so ended his life. The spot is called Hœring's Leap to this day.

Illugi came back, and Grettir asked him what had been the end of the encounter. Illugi told him.

"Now, Thorbiorn," shouted Grettir; "we have had enough of profitless talk. Go round to the other side of the island and gather up the remains of your friend."

The Hook pushed off from the strand and returned home, ill pleased with the result of the expedition, and Grettir remained unmolested on Drangey the ensuing winter.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

OF THE ATTEMPT MADE BY GRETTIR's FRIENDS

The New Law-man – The Outlawry almost at an End

The ensuing summer, that is to say, the summer of 1031, at the great annual assize at Thingvalla, all Grettir's kin and friends brought up the matter of outlawry, and contended that he ought to have his sentence done away with. They said that no man could be an outlaw all his life, that was not a condition contemplated by their laws. They said that he had been outlawed first in 1011 for the slaying of Skeggi, and that he had been in outlawry ever since, which made nineteen years.

The old law-man was dead, and now there was another at the assize, whose name was Stein. He laid down that no man might by law be in outlawry more than twenty years. Now, when they came to reckon since 1011 it was nineteen years. It was true that he had been outlawed thrice, once for Skeggi, then by King Olaf, and lastly by the court for the burning of the sons of Thorir of Garth, still – the fact remained that for nineteen years he had been an outlaw, and Stein laid down that by next assize, that is to say in one year, his outlawry would have expired.

Thereat Grettir's kinsfolk were pleased, for they thought that he would only have to spend one winter more on Drangey, and afterwards his troubles would be at an end; Thorir of Garth and his other foes could no more pursue him, and the price set on his head would fall away.

But on the other hand, Thorir of Garth, who had not become more charitable and forgiving as he grew old, became still more incensed and impatient to have Grettir killed before this year would expire, also Thorbiorn Hook cast about how he might be avenged for the deprivation of his rights over Drangey. The men who had sold their claims came to Thorbiorn, and told him he must do one of two things: get rid of Grettir and assert his rights by turning out sheep on the islet, or they would regard the sale as quashed, by his non-usance of the pasture, and they would reclaim their shares of the island as soon as Grettir's outlawry was at an end, and he left the place.

CHAPTER XXXIX

OF THE OLD HAG

The Hook's Foster-mother – The Hag's Request – The Witch in the Boat – The Hag's Dooming – An Unlucky Throw – Working Bane – The Magic Runes

Now it was so, that Thorbiorn Hook had a foster-mother, a woman advanced in age, and of a very malicious disposition. When the people of Iceland accepted Christianity, she, in her heart, remained a heathen, and would not be baptized and have anything to do with the new religion. She had always been reckoned a witch, but with the introduction of Christianity witchcraft had been made illegal, and anyone who had recourse to sorcery was severely dealt with. The old woman had not forgotten her incantations and strange ceremonies, whereby she thought to be able to conjure the spirits of evil, and send ill on such as offended her.

When Thorbiorn Hook found that he could contrive in no way to get Grettir out of Drangey, and when he saw that if his expulsion were delayed, and Grettir left of his own accord, he would forfeit the money he had paid for the rights of pasturage on the island, he went to his foster-mother, and told her his difficulty, and pretty plainly let her understand that as he could get help nowhere else, he did not mind having recourse to the black art.

"Ah!" cackled she, "I see how it is, when all else fails, man's arms and man's wit, then you come to the bed-ridden crone and seek her aid. Well, I will assist you to the best of my power, on one condition, and that is, that you obey me without questioning."

The Hook agreed to what she said, and so all rested till August without the matter being again alluded to.

Then one beautiful day the hag said to Thorbiorn, "Foster-son, the sea is calm and the sky bright, what say you to our rowing over to Drangey and stirring up the old strife with Grettir? I will go with you and hear what he says, then I shall be able to judge what fate lies before him, and I can death-doom him accordingly."

The Hook answered, "It is waste of labour going out to Drangey. I have been there several times and never return better off than when I went."

"You promised to obey me without questioning," said the crone. "Follow my advice and all will be well for you and ill for Grettir."

"I will do as you bid me, foster-mother," said Thorbiorn, "though I had sworn not to go back to Drangey till I was sure I could work the bane of Grettir."

"That man is not laid low hastily, and patience is needed; but his time will come, and may be close at hand. What the end of this visit will be I cannot say. It is hid from me, but I know very well that it will lead to his or to your destruction."

Thorbiorn ran out a long boat, and entered it with twelve men. The hag sat in the bows coiled up amongst rugs and wadmal. When they reached the island, at once Grettir and Illugi ran to the ladder, and Thorbiorn again asked if Grettir would come to his house for the winter.

Grettir made the same reply as before, "Do what you will, in this spot I await my fate."

Now Thorbiorn saw that this expedition also was likely to be resultless, and he became very angry. "I see," he said, "that I have to do with an ill-conditioned churl, who does not know how to accept a good offer when made. I shall not come here again with such an offer."

"That pleases me well," said Grettir, "for you and I are not like to come to terms that will satisfy both."

At that moment the hag began to wriggle out of her wraps in the bows. Grettir had not perceived her hitherto. Now she screamed out, "These men may be strong, but their strength is ebbing. They may have had luck, but luck has left. See what a difference there is between men. Thorbiorn makes good offers, and such they blindly, foolishly reject. Those who are blinded and cast away chances do not have chances come to them again. And now Grettir" – she raised her withered arms over her head – "I doom you to all ill, I doom you to loss of health, to loss of wisdom and of foresight. I doom you to decline and to death. I doom your blood to fester, and your brain to be clouded. I doom your marrow to curdle and chill. Henceforth, so is my doom, all good things will wane from you, and all evil things will wax and overwhelm you. So be it." As she spoke a shudder ran over Grettir's limbs, and he asked who that imp was in the boat. Illugi told him he fancied it must be that old heathen woman, the foster-mother of Thorbiorn Hook.

"Since the powers of evil are with our foes," said Grettir, "how may we oppose them? Never before has anything so shaken me with presentiment of evil as have the curses of this witch. But she shall have a reminder of her visit to Drangey."

Thereupon he snatched up a large stone and threw it at the boat, and it fell on the bundle of rags, in the midst of which lay the old hag. As it struck there rose a wild shriek from the witch, for the stone had hit and broken her leg.

"Brother!" exclaimed Illugi, "you should not have done this."

"Blame me not," answered Grettir gloomily. "It had been well had the stone fallen on her head. But I trow the working of her curse is begun, and what I have done has been because my understanding and wit are already clouded."

On the return of Thorbiorn to the mainland the crone was put to bed, and The Hook was less pleased than ever with his trip to the island. His foster-mother, however, consoled him.

"Do not be discouraged," she said. "Now is come the turning-point of Grettir's fortunes, and his luck will leave him more and more as the light dies away up to Yule. But the light dies and comes again. With Grettir it will not be so, it will die, and die, till it goes out in endless night."

"You are a confident woman, foster-mother," said Thorbiorn.

When a month had elapsed, the old woman was able to leave her bed, and to limp across the room.

One day she asked to be led down to the beach. Thorbiorn gave her his arm, and she had her crutch, and she hobbled down to where the water was lapping on the shingle. And there, just washed up on the beach, lay a log of drift-timber, just large enough for a man to carry upon his shoulder. Then she gave command that the log should be rolled over and over that she might examine each side. The log on one side seemed to have been charred, and she sent to the house for a plane, and had the burnt wood smoothed away.

When that was done she dismissed every one save her foster-son, and then with a long knife she cut runes on the wood where it had been planed – that is to say, words written in the peculiar characters made of strokes which Odin was supposed to have invented. Then she cut herself on the arm, and smeared the letters she had cut with her blood. After that she rose and began to leap and dance, screaming a wild spell round the log, making the most strange and uncouth contortions, and waving her crutch in the air, making with it mysterious signs over the log. Presently, when the incantation was over, she ordered the log to be rolled back into the sea. The tide was now ebbing, and with the tide the log went out to sea further and further from land till Thorbiorn saw it no more.