Grettir the Outlaw

CHAPTER XL

HOW THE LOG CAME TO DRANGEY

Food for the Winter – Cast up by the Sea – The Log comes back again – The Worst is come – An ugly Wound – The Hag's Revenge – Grettir sings his Great Deeds – Presage of Evil

In the meantime Grettir, Illugi, and the churl Glaum were on Drangey catching fish and fowl for winter supplies. The fish in Iceland are beaten hard with stones and then dried in the wind, that makes them like leather; but it preserves them for a very long time, and they form the staple of food, as the people have no corn, and consequently no bread. They put butter on these dry fish, and tear them with their teeth. What Grettir did with the fowl he caught was to pickle them with salt water from the sea, and when the frost and snow came on then he would take them out of pickle and freeze them. Now, the whole of the sheep had been eaten some time ago, except the old mottled ram, which Grettir could not find in his heart to kill; and, as may be supposed, he and his brother suffered from want of change of food. Especially deficient were they in any green food; and we know, though he did not, that the eating of green food is a very essential element of health. He had nothing for consumption but salted birds and dried fish – no milk, no bread, no vegetables. Such a diet was certain to disorder his health.

The day after that on which the hag had charmed the piece of timber, the two brothers were walking on the little strand to the west of the island looking for drift-wood.

"Here is a fine beam!" exclaimed Illugi. "Help me to lift it on to my shoulder, and I will carry it up the ladder."

Grettir spurned the log with his foot, saying, "I do not like the looks of it, Little brother. Runes are cut on it, and what they portend I do not know. There may be written there something that may bring ill. Who can tell but this log may have been sent with ill wishes against us." They set the log adrift, and Grettir warned his brother not to bring it to their fire.

In the evening they returned to their cabin, and nothing was said about the log to Glaum. Next day they found the same beam washed up not far from the foot of the ladder. Grettir was dissatisfied, and again he thrust it from the shore, saying that he hoped they had seen the last of it, and that the stream and tide would catch it and waft it elsewhere. And now the equinoctial gales began to rage. The fine Martinmas summer was over. The weather changed to storm and rain; and so bad was it that the three men remained indoors till their supply of firewood was exhausted.

Then Grettir ordered the thrall to search the shore for fuel. Glaum started up with an angry remonstrance that the weather was not such as a dog should be turned out in, with unreason, not considering that a fire was as necessary to him as to his master. He went to the ladder, crawled down it, and found the same beam cast at its very foot.

Glad not to have to go far in his search, Glaum shouldered the log, crept up the ladder, bore it to the hut, and throwing open the door, cast it down in the midst.

Grettir jumped up, "Well done," said he, "you have been quick in your quest."

"Now I have brought it, you must chop it up," said Glaum. "I have done my part."

Grettir took his axe. The fire was low and wanted replenishing, and without paying much attention to the log, he swung his axe and brought it down on the log. But the wood was wet and greasy with sea-weed, and the axe slipped, glanced off the beam, and cut into Grettir's leg below the knee, on the shin, with such force that it stuck in the bone.

Grettir looked at the beam; the fire leaped up, and by its light the runic inscription on it was visible. Grettir at once saw evil. "The worst is come upon us," he said sadly, as he cast the axe away, and threw himself down by the fire. "This is the same log that I have twice rejected. Glaum, you have done us two ill turns, first when you neglected the fire and let it go out, and now in that you have brought this beam to us. Beware how you commit a third, for that I foresee will be your bane as well as ours."

Illugi bound up his brother's wound with rag; there was but a slight flow of blood, but it was an ugly gash. That night Grettir slept soundly. For three days and nights he was without pain, and the wound seemed to be healing healthily, the skin to be forming over it.

"My dear brother," said Illugi, "I do not think that this cut will trouble you long."

"I hope not," answered Grettir. "But none can see where a road leads till they have gone through to the end."

On the fourth evening they laid them down to sleep as usual. About midnight the lad, Illugi, awoke hearing Grettir tossing in his bed as though suffering.

"Why are you so uneasy?" asked the boy.

Grettir replied that he felt great pain in his leg, and he thought, he said, that some change must have taken place in the condition of the wound.

Illugi at once blew up the embers on the hearth into a flame, and by its light examined his brother's leg. He found that the foot was swollen and discoloured, and that the wound had reopened, and looked far more angry than he had seen it yet. Intense pain ensued, so that poor Grettir could not remain quiet for a moment, but tossed from side to side. His cheeks were fevered, and his tongue parched. He could obtain no sleep at all.

Illugi never left him, he sat beside him holding his hand, or bringing him water to slake his unquenchable thirst.

"The worst approaches, and there is no avoiding it," said Grettir. "This sickness is sent by the old witch in revenge for the stone I had cast at her."

"I misliked the casting of that stone," said Illugi.

"It was ill that it did not fall on her head," said Grettir. "But what is done may not be undone." Then he heaved himself up into a sitting posture and sang, supporting himself against his brother's shoulder, a lay, of which only fragments have come down to us. A good deal of the lay refers to incidents in Grettir's life, of which no record remains in the saga, and many staves have fallen away and been lost. So we give but a few verses: —

"I fought with the sword in the bye-gone day,In the day when I was young;When the Rovers I slew in old Norway,The land with my action rung."I entered the grave of Karr the Old,I rived his sword away;I strove with the Troll at Thorod's-stead,Before the break of day."With Thorbiorn Oxmain in the marshI fought, and his blood I shed;Against Thorir of Garth have I stood in arms,Who long would have me dead."For nineteen years, I a hunted man,On mountain, on moor, and fen;For nineteen years had to shun and fleeThe face of my fellow men."For nineteen years all bitter to bearBoth hunger and cold and pain;And never to know when I laid me down,If I might awake again."And now do I lie with a burning eye,As a wolf is fain to die;Whilst the skies are dripping and ocean roars,And the winds sob sadly by – "

The song was probably composed before, as otherwise it is not easy to account for its preservation. His head was burning, his thoughts wandered, and he ceased singing. He seemed to be dozing off. But presently he started and shivered, and looked hastily about him.

"Let us be cautious now," he said, "for Thorbiorn Hook will make another attempt. To me it matters little – but to you, brother. Glaum, watch the ladder by day, and draw it up at night. Be a faithful servant, for now all depends on you. Illugi will not leave me, so we are in your hands."

CHAPTER XLI

THE END OF THE OUTLAW

The Shadow of Death – Thorbiorn and his Foster-mother – The Hook sails for Drangey – Out in the Gale – The Unguarded Ladder – Glaum is Captured – The Brothers' last Evening – Defending the Hut – Grettir Wounded – Illugi Taken – The Notch in the Sword – Illugi vows Vengeance – Death of Illugi

The weather became daily worse, and a fierce north-east wind raged over the country, bearing with it cold and sleet, and covering the fells with the first snows of winter. Grettir inquired every night if the ladder had been drawn up, according to order. Glaum answered churlishly, "How can you expect folk to live out in such a storm as this? Do you think they are so eager to kill you that they will jeopardize their lives in trying to do this? It is easy to see that a little cut was all that lacked to let your courage leak out."

Grettir answered, "Go! and do not argue with us; guard the ladder as you have been bidden!"

So Illugi drove the churl from the hut every morning, notwithstanding his angry remonstrances; and Glaum was in the worst of humours.

The pain became more acute, and the whole leg inflamed and swollen, signs of mortification appeared, and wounds opened in different parts of the limb, so that Grettir felt that the shadow of death hung over him. Illugi sat night and day with his brother's head on his shoulder, bathing his forehead, and doing his utmost to console the fleeting spirit. A week had elapsed since the wound had been made.

Now, Thorbiorn Hook was at home, ill-pleased at the failure of all his schemes for dispossessing Grettir of the island.

One day his foster-mother came to him, and asked whether he were ready now to pay his final visit to the outlaw?

Thorbiorn replied that he had paid quite as many visits to him as he liked, and that he should not go to Drangey again till Grettir left it; and then, with a sneer he asked his foster-mother whether she wanted to have her second leg broken, and was not satisfied with the fracture of one.

"I will not go to Drangey myself," answered the old woman. "That is unnecessary. I have sent him my salutation, and by this he has received it. Speed away now to Drangey, and find how he relishes my message. But I warn you, you must go now or you will be too late."

Thorbiorn would not listen; he said that her advice last time had led to no advantage when he followed it, and that the weather was too bad to go out in.

"You need go but this once," said the crone. "The storm is of my sending, and is sent to work my ends."

Finally he allowed himself to be persuaded. So he got together men, and asked his neighbours to help him; and a large vessel was manned. That is to say, the other farmers consented to lend him men, but none of them would accompany him themselves. The Hook took twelve of his own men; his brother, Hialti, lent him three; Erick of Gooddale sent one man; Tongue-stone furnished him with two; another, named Halldor, let him have six. Of all these, the only two whose name need be mentioned are Karr and Vikarr.

Thorbiorn got a large sailing-boat for his purpose, and started from Heron-ness. None of the men were in good spirits, as the weather was bad; moreover, they had no liking for their leader. By dusk the boat was afloat, the sail spread, and they ran out to sea. As the wind was from the north-east, they were under the lee of the high cliffs, and were not exposed to the full violence of the storm.

Heavy scuds of rain and sleet swept the fiord; the sky was overcast with whirling masses of vapour, charged with snow, and beneath their shadow the waters of the firth were black as ink. For one moment the clouds were parted by the storm, the rowers looked up, and saw the heavens tinged with the crimson rays of the northern light. A flame ran along the cordage, and finally settled on the masthead of the vessel, swaying and dancing with the motion of the boat. It was that electric spark, which is called in the Mediterranean S. Elmo's fire.

A line of white foam marked the base of Drangey; and now and then a great wave from the mouth of the fiord boomed against the crags, and shot in spouts of foam high into the air. Along the western shore of the firth, which was exposed to the full brunt of the gale, the mighty billows were beaten into white yeasty heaps of water. From the top of Drangey one tiny spark shone from the window of the hovel where lay the dying outlaw.

Now let us look again at Grettir.

He had been in less pain that day. Illugi had not left him, but remained faithful at his post.

The thrall, Glaum, had been sent out as usual to collect fuel and to watch the ladder, and to draw it up at nightfall. But instead of doing as he was bidden, the fellow laid himself down at the head of the steps, under a shelter-hut of turf that had been there erected, and went to sleep.

When Thorbiorn and his party reached the shore, they found to their content that the ladder had not been removed.

"Good luck attends on those who wait," said The Hook "Now, my fellows! the journey will not prove as bootless as you expected. Up the ladder with you! and let us all be cautious and bold!"

So they ascended, one after the other, The Hook taking the lead. On reaching the top he looked into the shelter-hut, and there found Glaum, asleep and snoring. Thorbiorn struck him over the shoulders, and asked him who he was.

Glaum turned on his side, rubbed his eyes, and growled forth, "Can you not leave a poor wretch alone? Never was a man so ill-treated as am I. I may not even sleep out here in the cold."

The Hook then knew who this was. "Fool!" shouted he. "Look up, and see who are come. We are your foes, and intend to kill every one of you."

Glaum started now to his feet full awake, and shrieked with dismay when he saw the black figures crowding up from the ladder and surrounding him.

"Make no noise," said Thorbiorn Hook. "I give you the choice of two things; answer the questions I put to you truthfully, or die at once."

The churl answered sullenly that he would speak, and he had nothing to conceal.

"Then tell me where the brothers are?"

"In the hovel I left them, where there is a fire. Not out in the cold. Grettir is sick and nigh on death, and Illugi is with him."

The Hook asked for particulars, and then Glaum told him about the log, and how Grettir was wounded. Thereat the Hook burst out laughing, and said, "Woe to the man that leans on a churl! That is a true proverb. Shamefully have you betrayed your trust, Glaum."

Thereupon Glaum was dragged along to the cabin where Grettir lay, and they treated him so roughly, that what with their blows and what with fear, he was nearly senseless when he reached it.

Illugi had been sitting by the fire with his brother's head in his lap, whilst Grettir lay in some sheepskins beside the hearth. All that evening the sick man's eyes had been wandering about the roof, watching the light play among the rafters, as the firewood blazed up or smouldered away. Illugi saw that his fingers plucked at the wool of the sheep-skins, riving it out, and that he knew was a bad sign. He felt sure that Grettir would die that night, and he watched his face intently, and could not bear to withdraw his eyes from him, for he loved him dearly. Presently Grettir turned his head, and smiled when he saw how he was watching him, and said that he felt easier, and would sleep. In a few moments his eyes closed.

As he dozed, his face became calmer than Illugi had seen it before; the muscles relaxed, and the wrinkles furrowed in his brow by care and suffering were now smoothed quite away. Grettir's face was never handsome, but it was grave and earnest, and the sorrow and trial he had passed through had left its trace on his features. His breath now came more evenly in sleep.

All at once there sounded a crash at the door, and the sleeper opened his eyes dreamily.

"It is only the old ram, brother," said Illugi. "He is butting, because he wants to come in."

"He butts hard! he butts hard!" muttered Grettir, and at that moment the door burst open. They saw faces looking in.

Illugi was on his feet in a moment. He seized his sword, flew to the doorway and defended it bravely, so that no one could pass through.

Thorbiorn called to some of the men to get upon the roof, and he was obeyed. The hovel was low, and in a moment four or five were on top of it tearing off the turf that covered it. Grettir tried to rise to his feet, but could only stagger to his knees. He seized his spear and drove it through the roof, so that it struck Karr in the breast, and the wound was his death.

Thorbiorn Hook called to the men to act more warily – they were twenty-five in all against two men, and one dying.

So the men pulled at the gable ends of the house and got the ridge-piece out, that it broke and fell, and with it a shower of turfs, into the hut.

Grettir drew his short-sword – the sword he had taken from the barrow of Karr the Old – and smote at the men as they leaped upon him from the wall. With one blow he struck Vikarr over the left shoulder, as he was on the point of springing down. The sword cut off his arm. But the blow was so violent, that Grettir, having dealt it, fell forward, and before he could raise himself Thorbiorn Hook struck him between the shoulders, and made a fearful wound.

Then cried Grettir, "Bare is the back without brother behind it!" and instantly Illugi threw his shield over him, planted one foot on each side of him as he lay on the floor, and defended him with desperate courage.

The mist of death was in Grettir's eyes; he attempted in vain to raise himself, but sank again on the sheep-skins, which were now drenched in blood.

No one could touch him, for the brave boy warded off every blow that was aimed at his brother.

Then Thorbiorn Hook ordered his men to form a ring round and close in on them with their shields and with beams. They did so, and Illugi was taken and bound; but not till he had wounded most of his opponents, and had killed three of Thorbiorn's men.

"Never have I seen one braver of your age," said The Hook. "I will say that you have fought well."

Then they went to Grettir, who lay where he had fallen, unable to resist further, for he had lost consciousness. They dealt him many a blow, but hardly any blood flowed from his wounds. When all supposed he was dead, then Thorbiorn tried to disengage the sword from his cold fingers, saying that he considered Grettir had wielded it long enough. But the strong man's hand was clenched around the handle so firmly that his enemy could not free the sword from his grasp.

Several of the men came up, and tried to unweave the fingers, but were unable to do so. Then the Hook said, "Why should we spare this wretched outlaw? Off with his hand!" And his men held down the arm whilst Thorbiorn hewed off the hand at the wrist with his axe.

After that, standing over the body, and grasping the hilt of the sword in both hands, he smote at Grettir's head; the edge of the blade was notched by the blow.

"Look!" laughed Thorbiorn. "This notch will be famous in story for many generations; for men will point to it and say, 'This was made by Grettir's skull.'" He struck twice and thrice at the outlaw's neck, till the head came off in his hands.

"Now have I slain a notable man!" exclaimed Thorbiorn. "I will take this head with me to land, and claim the price that was set on it; and none shall deny that it was my hand that slew that Grettir whom all else feared."

The men present said he might say what he liked, but that they believed Grettir was already dead when he smote him.

Thorbiorn now turned to Illugi, and said, "It is a pity that a brave lad like you should die, because you are associated with outlaws and evil-doers."

"I tell you this," said Illugi, "that I will appear before you at the great assize, and there will charge you with having practised witchcraft to effect my brother's death."

"You hearken to me, boy," said Thorbiorn. "Put your hand to mine, and swear that you will not seek to avenge the death of your brother, and I will let you go; but if you will not take this oath, you shall die."

"And hearken to me, Thorbiorn," said lllugi. "If I live, but one thought shall occupy my heart night and day, and that will be how I may best avenge my brother. Now that you know what to expect of me – take what course you will."

Thorbiorn drew his companions aside to ask their advice; but they shrugged their shoulders, and replied that, as he had planned the expedition, he must carry it out as he thought best.

"Well," said The Hook, "I have no fancy for having the young viper lying in wait to sting me wherever I tread. He shall die."

Now, when Illugi knew that they had determined on slaying him, he smiled and said, "You have chosen that course which is best to my mind. I do not desire to be parted from my brother."

The day was breaking. They led Illugi to the east side of the island, and there they slew him.

It is told that they neither bound his eyes nor his hands, and that he looked fearlessly at them when they smote him, and neither changed colour nor even blinked.

Then they buried the brothers beneath a cairn in the island, but they took the head of Grettir and bore it to land. On the way they also slew the thrall Glaum.

CHAPTER XLII

HOW ASDIS RECEIVED THE NEWS

A Charge of Witchcraft – A Heroic Mother – Thorbiorn's Sentence – Burial of the Brothers

Had the old hag, Thorbiorn's foster-mother, any hand in the death of Grettir? Certainly none. It was true that Grettir was wounded in the way described, by his own axe, but the condition of the wound was due to the scorbutic condition of his blood, through lack of green food. This the Icelanders did not understand; they could not comprehend how a wound could seem to be healing well and then break out and mortify afterwards, and they supposed that this was due to witchcraft. Then, again, Grettir's kin could not take the case of Grettir's murder into court, because Thorbiorn had acted within the law when killing him; but by charging him with the practice of witchcraft they made him amenable to the law. So, partly, no doubt, in good faith, they trumped up against Thorbiorn the accusation of having effected Grettir's death by witchcraft.

Now, it must be told how that, one day after the slaying of Grettir, Thorbiorn Hook at the head of twenty armed men rode to Biarg, in the Midfirth-dale, with Grettir's head slung from his saddlebow. On reaching the house he dismounted and strode into the hall, where Grettir's mother was seated with a servant. Thorbiorn threw her son's head at her feet, and said: "See! I have been to the island and have prevailed."

The lady sat proudly in her seat, and did not shed a tear; but lifting her voice in reply, she sang:

"Milk-sop – as timid sheepBefore a fox all cow'ring keep;So did you – nor could prevailSo long as Grettir's strength was hale.Woe is on the Northland side,Nor can I my loathing hide!"

After this The Hook returned home, and folk wondered at Asdis, saying that only a heroic mother could have had sons so heroic. When Yule was over The Hook rode east away to Garth, and told Thorir what he had done, and claimed the money set on Grettir's head.

But Thorir was crafty, and just as the Biarg folk sought a charge against Thorbiorn for his deed, so did Thorir, that he might escape having to pay the silver. He answered, "I do not deny that I offered the money on Grettir's head, promising it to whomsoever should slay Grettir, but I will pay nothing to him who compassed his death by witchcraft; and if what the men who went with you say be true, you did not slay him with a sword, but hacked off his head after he was dead."

This made Thorbiorn Hook very angry, and when summer came he brought his suit against Thorir for the money. But simultaneously Grettir's kin brought a charge against Thorbiorn for having practised witchcraft. Also they had a summons against him for the slaying of Illugi. Now, the case was tried, and hotly discussed, and it ended this way: – It was judged that Thorbiorn had struck off the head of a man who was already dead, and that he had brought about the death of that man by witchcraft; thereupon it was judged that he should receive nothing of the money, and that he should be outlawed from Iceland.

So he went away and never returned.

Now, Grettir and Illugi were brought to land, and their bones lie at Reykir, where was the friendly farmer who had helped them when they were at Drangey. But Grettir's head was buried at Biarg. There is now no church or churchyard there, but there is a mound in the tún where his head is said to lie. I obtained leave to dig there, and I examined the spot, but found only a great stone under the turf, and this we had not the appliances to move. And perhaps it was as well; for if Grettir's head be there, it were better that there it should rest undisturbed.