(25)
     “Thou sayest my faith has been forfeit,
     O fair in thy glittering raiment;
     But I wearied my steed and outwore it,
     And for what but the love that bare thee?
     O fainer by far was I, lady,
     To founder my horse in the hunting—
     Nay, I spared not the jade when I spurred it—
     Than to see thee the bride of my foe.”

After this Cormac and his men went home. When he told his mother how things had gone, “Little good,” she said, “will thy luck do us. Ye have slighted a fine offer, and you have no chance against Bersi, for he is a great fighter and he has good weapons.”

Now, Bersi owned the sword they call Whitting; a sharp sword it was, with a life-stone to it; and that sword he had carried in many a fray.

“Whether wilt thou have weapons to meet Whitting?” she asked. Cormac said he would have an axe both great and keen.

Dalla said he should see Skeggi of Midfiord and ask for the loan of his sword, Skofnung. So Cormac went to Reykir and told Skeggi how matters stood, asking him to lend Skofnung. Skeggi said he had no mind to lend it. Skofnung and Cormac, said he, would never agree: “It is cold and slow, and thou art hot and hasty.”

Cormac rode away and liked it ill. He came home to Mel and told his mother that Skeggi would not lend the sword. Now Skeggi had the oversight of Dalla's affairs, and they were great friends; so she said, “He will lend the sword, though not all at once.”

That was not what he wanted, answered Cormac,—“If he withhold it not from thee, while he does withhold it from me.” Upon which she answered that he was a thwart lad.

A few days afterwards Dalla told him to go to Reykir. “He will lend thee the sword now,” said she. So he sought Skeggi and asked for Skofnung.

“Hard wilt thou find it to handle,” said Skeggi. “There is a pouch to it, and that thou shalt let be. Sun must not shine on the pommel of the hilt. Thou shalt not wear it until fighting is forward, and when ye come to the field, sit all alone and then draw it. Hold the edge toward thee, and blow on it. Then will a little worm creep from under the hilt. Then slope thou the sword over, and make it easy for that worm to creep back beneath the hilt.”

“Here's a tale of tricks, thou warlock!” cried Cormac

“Nevertheless,” answered Skeggi, “it will stand thee in good stead to know them.”

So Cormac rode home and told his mother, saying that her will was of great avail with Skeggi. He showed the sword, and tried to draw it, but it would not leave the sheath.

“Thou are over wilful, my son,” said she.

Then he set his feet against the hilts, and pulled until he tore the pouch off, at which Skofnung creaked and groaned, but never came out of the scabbard.

Well, the time wore on, and the day came. He rode away with fifteen men; Bersi also rode to the holm with as many. Cormac came there first, and told Thorgils that he would sit apart by himself. So he sat down and ungirt the sword.

Now, he never heeded whether the sun shone upon the hilt, for he had girt the sword on him outside his clothes. And when he tried to draw it he could not, until he set his feet upon the hilts. Then the little worm came, and was not rightly done by; and so the sword came groaning and creaking out of the scabbard, and the good luck of it was gone.





CHAPTER TEN. The Fight On Leidarholm.

After that Cormac went to his men. Bersi and his party had come by that time, and many more to see the fight.

Cormac took up Bersi's target and cut at it, and sparks flew out.

Then a hide was taken and spread for them to stand on. Bersi spoke and said, “Thou, Cormac, hast challenged me to the holmgang; instead of that, I offer thee to fight in simple sword-play. Thou art a young man and little tried; the holmgang needs craft and cunning, but sword-play, man to man, is an easy game.”

Cormac answered, “I should fight no better even so. I will run the risk, and stand on equal footing with thee, every way.”

“As thou wilt,” said Bersi.

It was the law of the holmgang that the hide should be five ells long, with loops at its corners. Into these should be driven certain pins with heads to them, called tjosnur. He who made it ready should go to the pins in such a manner that he could see sky between his legs, holding the lobes of his ears and speaking the forewords used in the rite called “The Sacrifice of the tjosnur.” Three squares should be marked round the hide, each one foot broad. At the outermost corners of the squares should be four poles, called hazels; when this is done, it is a hazelled field. Each man should have three shields, and when they were cut up he must get upon the hide if he had given way from it before, and guard himself with his weapons alone thereafter. He who had been challenged should strike the first stroke. If one was wounded so that blood fell upon the hide, he should fight no longer. If either set one foot outside the hazel poles “he went on his heel,” they said; but he “ran” if both feet were outside. His own man was to hold the shield before each of the fighters. The one who was wounded should pay three marks of silver to be set free.

So the hide was taken and spread under their feet. Thorgils held his brother's shield, and Thord Arndisarson that of Bersi. Bersi struck the first blow, and cleft Cormac's shield; Cormac struck at Bersi to the like peril. Each of them cut up and spoilt three shields of the other's. Then it was Cormac's turn. He struck at Bersi, who parried with Whitting. Skofnung cut the point off Whitting in front of the ridge. The sword-point flew upon Cormac's hand, and he was wounded in the thumb. The joint was cleft, and blood dropped upon the hide. Thereupon folk went between them and stayed the fight.

Then said Cormac, “This is a mean victory that Bersi has gained; it is only from my bad luck; and yet we must part.”

He flung down his sword, and it met Bersi's target. A shard was broken out of Skofnung, and fire flew out of Thorveig's gift.

Bersi asked the money for release, Cormac said it would be paid; and so they parted.





CHAPTER ELEVEN. The Songs That Were Made About The Fight.

Steinar was the name of a man who was the son of Onund the Seer, and brother of Dalla, Cormac's mother. He was an unpeaceful man, and lived at Ellidi.

Thither rode Cormac from the holme, to see his kinsman, and told him of the fight, at which he was but ill pleased. Cormac said he meant to leave the country,—“And I want thee to take the money to Bersi.”

“Thou art no bold man,” said Steinar, “but the money shall be paid if need be.”

Cormac was there some nights; his hand swelled much, for it was not dressed.

After that meeting, Holmgang Bersi went to see his brother. Folk asked how the holmgang had gone, and when he told them they said that two bold men had struck small blows, and he had gained the victory only through Cormac's mishap. When Bersi met Steingerd, and she asked how it went, he made this verse:—

                    (26)
     “They call him, and truly they tell it,
     A tree of the helmet right noble:
     But the master of manhood must bring me
     Three marks for his ransom and rescue.
     Though stout in the storm of the bucklers
     In the stress of the Valkyrie's tempest
     He will bid me no more to the battle,
     For the best of the struggle was ours.”

Steinar and Cormac rode from Ellidi and passed through Saurbae. They saw men riding towards them, and yonder came Bersi. He greeted Cormac and asked how the wound was getting on. Cormac said it needed little to be healed.

“Wilt thou let me heal thee?” said Bersi; “though from me thou didst get it: and then it will be soon over.”

Cormac said nay, for he meant to be his lifelong foe. Then answered Bersi:—

                    (27)
     “Thou wilt mind thee for many a season
     How we met in the high voice of Hilda.
     Right fain I go forth to the spear-mote
     Being fitted for every encounter.
     There Cormac's gay shield from his clutches
     I clave with the bane of the bucklers,
     For he scorned in the battle to seek me
     If we set not the lists of the holmgang.”

Thus they parted; and then Cormac went home to Mel and saw his mother. She healed his hand; it had become ugly and healed badly. The notch in Skofnung they whetted, but the more they whetted the bigger it was. So he went to Reykir, and flung Skofnung at Skeggi's feet, with this verse:—

                    (28)
     “I bring thee, thus broken and edgeless,
     The blade that thou gavest me, Skeggi!
     I warrant thy weapon could bite not:
     I won not the fight by its witchcraft.
     No gain of its virtue nor glory
     I got in the strife of the weapons,
     When we met for to mingle the sword-storm
     For the maiden my singing adorns.”

Said Skeggi, “It went as I warned thee.” Cormac flung forth and went home to Mel: and when he met with Dalla he made this song:—

                    (29)
     “To the field went I forth, O my mother
     The flame of the armlet who guardest,—
     To dare the cave-dweller, my foeman
     And I deemed I should smite him in battle.
     But the brand that is bruited in story
     It brake in my hand as I held it;
     And this that should thrust men to slaughter
     Is thwarted and let of its might.

                    (30)
     For I borrowed to bear in the fighting
     No blunt-edged weapon of Skeggi:
     There is strength in the serpent that quivers
     By the side of the land of the girdle.
     But vain was the virtue of Skofnung
     When he vanquished the sharpness of Whitting;
     And a shard have I shorn, to my sorrow,
     From the shearer of ringleted mail.

                    (31)
     Yon tusker, my foe, wrought me trouble
     When targe upon targe I had carven:
     For the thin wand of slaughter was shattered
     And it sundered the ground of my handgrip.
     Loud bellowed the bear of the sea-king
     When he brake from his lair in the scabbard,
     At the hest of the singer, who seeketh
     The sweet hidden draught of the gods.

                    (32)
     Afar must I fare, O my mother,
     And a fate points the pathway before me,
     For that white-wreathen tree may woo not
     —Two wearisome morrows her outcast.
     And it slays me, at home to be sitting,
     So set is my heart on its goddess,
     As a lawn with fair linen made lovely
     —I can linger no third morrow's morn.”

After that, Cormac went one day to Reykir and talked with Skeggi, who said the holmgang had been brought to scorn. Then answered Cormac:—

                    (33)
     “Forget it, O Frey of the helmet,
     —Lo, I frame thee a song in atonement—
     That the bringer of blood, even Skofnung,
     I bare thee so strangely belated.
     For by stirrers of storm was I wounded;
     They smote me where perches the falcon:
     But the blade that I borrowed, O Skeggi,
     Was borne in the clashing of edges.

                    (34)
     I had deemed, O thou Grey of fighting,
     Of the fierce song of Odin,—my neighbour,
     I had deemed that a brand meet for bloodshed
     I bare to the crossways of slaughter.
     Nay,—thy glaive, it would gape not nor ravin
     Against him, the rover who robbed me:
     And on her, as the surge on the shingle,
     My soul beats and breaks evermore.”





CHAPTER TWELVE. Bersi's Bad Luck At The Thor's-Ness Thing.

In the winter, sports were held at Saurbae. Bersi's lad, Asmund, was there, and likewise the sons of Thord; but they were younger than he, and nothing like so sturdy. When they wrestled Asmund took no heed to stint his strength, and the sons of Thord often came home blue and bleeding. Their mother Thordis was ill pleased, and asked her husband would he give Bersi a hint to make it up on behalf of his son. Nay, Thord answered, he was loath to do that.

“Then I'll find my brother Bork,” said she, “and it will be just as bad in the end.”

Thord bade her do no such thing. “I would rather talk it over with him,” said he; and so, at her wish, he met Bersi, and hinted that some amends were owing.

Said Bersi, “Thou art far too greedy of getting, nowadays. This kind of thing will end in losing thee thy good name. Thou wilt never want while anything is to be got here.”

Thord went home, and there was a coolness between them while that winter lasted.

Spring slipped by, until it was time for the meeting at Thor's-ness. By then, Bersi thought he saw through this claim of Thord's, and found Thordis at the bottom of it. For all that, he made ready to go to the Thing. By old use and wont these two neighbours should have gone riding together; so Bersi set out and came to Muli, but when he got there Thord was gone.

“Well,” said he, “Thord has broken old use and wont in awaiting me no longer.”

“If breach there be,” answered Thordis, “it is thy doing. This is nothing to what we owe thee, and I doubt there will be more to follow.”

They had words. Bersi said that harm would come of her evil counsel; and so they parted.

When he left the house he said to his men, “Let us turn aside to the shore and take a boat; it is a long way to ride round the waterhead.” So they took a boat—it was one of Thord's—and went their way.

They came to the meeting when most other folks were already there, and went to the tent of Olaf Peacock of Hjardarholt (Herdholt), for he was Bersi's chief. It was crowded inside, and Bersi found no seat. He used to sit next Thord, but that place was filled. In it there sat a big and strong-looking man, with a bear-skin coat, and a hood that shaded his face. Bersi stood a while before him, but the seat was not given up. He asked the man for his name, and was told he might call him Bruin, or he might call him Hoodie—which-ever he liked; whereupon he said in verse:—

                    (35)
     “Who sits in the seat of the warriors,
     With the skin of the bear wrapped around him,
     So wild in his look?—Ye have welcomed
     A wolf to your table, good kinsfolk!
     Ah, now may I know him, I reckon!
     Doth he name himself Bruin, or Hoodie?—
     We shall meet once again in the morning,
     And maybe he'll prove to be—Steinar.”

“And it's no use for thee to hide thy name, thou in the bearskin,” said he.

“No more it is,” he answered. “Steinar I am, and I have brought money to pay thee for Cormac, if so be it is needed. But first I bid thee to fight. It will have to be seen whether thou get the two marks of silver, or whether thou lose them both.”

Upon which quoth Bersi:—

                    (36)
     “They that waken the storm of the spear-points—
     For slaughter and strife they are famous—
     To the island they bid me for battle,
     Nor bitter I think it nor woeful;
     For long in that craft am I learned
     To loosen the Valkyrie's tempest
     In the lists, and I fear not to fight them—
     Unflinching in battle am I.

“Well I wot, though,” said he, “that ye and your gang mean to make away with me. But I would let you know that I too have something to say about it—something that will set down your swagger, maybe.”

“It is not thy death we are seeking,” answered Steinar; “all we want is to teach thee thy true place.”

Bersi agreed to fight him, and then went out to a tent apart and took up his abode there.

Now one day the word went round for bathing in the sea. Said Steinar to Bersi, “Wilt try a race with me, Bersi?”

“I have given over swimming,” said he, “and yet I'll try.”

Bersi's manner of swimming was to breast the waves and strike out with all his might. In so doing he showed a charm he wore round his neck. Steinar swam at him and tore off the lucky-stone with the bag it was in, and threw them both into the water, saying in verse:—

                    (37)
     “Long I've lived,
     And I've let the gods guide me;
     Brown hose I never wore
     To bring the luck beside me.
     I've never knit
     All to  keep me thriving
     Round my neck a bag of worts,
     —And lo!  I'm living!”

Upon that they struck out to land.

But this turn that Steinar played was Thord's trick to make Bersi lose his luck in the fight. And Thord went along the shore at low water and found the luck-stone, and hid it away.

Now Steinar had a sword that was called after Skrymir the giant: it was never fouled, and no mishap followed it. On the day fixed, Thord and Steinar went out of the tent, and Cormac also came to the meeting to hold the shield of Steinar. Olaf Peacock got men to help Bersi at the fight, for Thord had been used to hold his shield, but this time failed him. So Bersi went to the trysting-place with a shield-bearer who is not named in the story, and with the round target that once had belonged to Thorveig.

Each man was allowed three shields. Bersi cut up two, and then Cormac took the third. Bersi hacked away, but Whitting his sword stuck fast in the iron border of Steinar's shield. Cormac whirled it up just when Steinar was striking out. He struck the shield-edge, and the sword glanced off, slit Bersi's buttock, sliced his thigh down to the knee-joint, and stuck in the bone. And so Bersi fell.

“There!” cried Steinar, “Cormac's fine is paid.”

But Bersi leapt up, slashed at him, and clove his shield. The sword-point was at Steinar's breast when Thord rushed forth and dragged him away, out of reach.

“There!” cried Thord to Bersi, “I have paid thee for the mauling of my sons.”

So Bersi was carried to the tent, and his wound was dressed. After a while, Thord came in; and when Bersi saw him he said:—

                    (38)
     “When the wolf of the war-god was howling
     Erstwhile in the north, thou didst aid me:
     When it gaped in my hand, and it girded
     At the Valkyries' gate for to enter.
     But now wilt thou never, O warrior,
     At need in the storm-cloud of Odin
     Give me help in the tempest of targes
     —Untrusty, unfaithful art thou.

                    (39)
     “For when I was a stripling I showed me
     To the stems of the lightning of battle
     Right meet for the mist of the war-maids;
     —Ah me!  that was said long ago.
     But now, and I may not deny it
     My neighbours in earth must entomb me,
     At the spot I have sought for grave-mound
     Where Saurbae lies level and green.”

Said Thord, “I have no wish for thy death; but I own it is no sorrow to see thee down for once.”

To which Bersi answered in song:—

                    (40)
     “The friend that I trusted has failed me
     In the fight, and my hope is departed:
     I speak what I know of; and note it,
     Ye nobles,—I tell ye no leasing.
     Lo, the raven is ready for carnage,
     But rare are the friends who should succour.
     Yet still let them scorn me and threaten,
     I shrink not, I am not dismayed.”

After this, Bersi was taken home to Saurbae, and lay long in his wounds.

But when he was carried into the tent, at that very moment Steinar spoke thus to Cormac:—

                    (41)
     “Of the reapers in harvest of Hilda
     —Thou hast heard of it—four men and eight men
     With the edges of Skrymir to aid me
     I have urged to their flight from the battle.
     Now the singer, the steward of Odin,
     Hath smitten at last even Bersi
     With the flame of the weapon that feedeth
     The flocks of the carrion crows.”

“I would have thee keep Skrymir now for thy own, Cormac,” said he, “because I mean this fight to be my last.”

After that, they parted in friendly wise: Steinar went home, and Cormac fared to Mel.





CHAPTER THIRTEEN. Steingerd Leaves Bersi.

Next it is told of Bersi. His wound healed but slowly. Once on a time a many folk were met to talk about that meeting and what came of it, and Bersi made this song:—

                    (42)
     “Thou didst leave me forlorn to the sword-stroke,
     Strong lord of the field of the serpent!
     And needy and fallen ye find me,
     Since my foeman ye shielded from danger.
     Thus cunning and counsel are victors,
     When the craft of the spear-shaft avails not;
     But this, as I think, is the ending,
     O Thord, of our friendship for ever!”

A while later Thord came to his bedside and brought back the luck-stone; and with it he healed Bersi, and they took to their friendship again and held it unbroken ever after.

Because of these happenings, Steingerd fell into loathing of Bersi and made up her mind to part with him; and when she had got everything ready for going away she went to him and said:—“First ye were called Eygla's-Bersi, and then Holmgang-Bersi, but now your right name will be Breech-Bersi!” and spoke her divorce from him.

She went north to her kinsfolk, and meeting with her brother Thorkel she bade him seek her goods again from Bersi—her pin-money and her dowry, saying that she would not own him now that he was maimed. Thorkel Toothgnasher never blamed her for that, and agreed to undertake her errand; but the winter slipped by and his going was put off.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN. The Bane Of Thorkel Toothgnasher.

Afterwards, in the spring, Thorkel Toothgnasher set out to find Bersi and to seek Steingerd's goods again. Bersi said that his burden was heavy enough to bear, even though both together underwent the weight of it. “And I shall not pay the money!” said he.

Said Thorkel, “I bid thee to the holmgang at Orrestholm beside Tjaldanes (Tentness).”

“That ye will think hardly worth while,” said Bersi, “such a champion as you are; and yet I undertake for to come.”

So they came to the holme and fell to the holmgang. Thord carried the shield before Bersi, and Vali was Thorkel's shield-bearer. When two shields had been hacked to splinters, Bersi bade Thorkel take the third; but he would not. Bersi still had a shield, and a sword that was long and sharp.

Said Thorkel, “The sword ye have, Bersi, is longer than lawful.”

“That shall not be,” cried Bersi; and took up his other sword, Whitting, two-handed, and smote Thorkel his deathblow. Then sang he:—

                    (43)
     “I have smitten Toothgnasher and slain him,
     And I smile at the pride of his boasting.
     One more to my thirty I muster,
     And, men!  say ye this of the battle:—
     In the world not a lustier liveth
     Among lords of the steed of the oar-bench;
     Though by eld of my strength am I stinted
     To stain the black wound-bird with blood.”

After these things Vali bade Bersi to the holmgang, but he answered in this song:—

                    (44)
     “They that waken the war of the mail-coats,
     For warfare and manslaying famous,
     To the lists they have bid me to battle,
     Nor bitter I think it not woeful.
     It is sport for yon swordsmen who goad me
     To strive in the Valkyries' tempest
     On the holme; but I fear not to fight them—
     Unflinching in battle am I!”

The were even about to begin fighting, when Thord came and spoke to them saying:—“Woeful waste of life I call it, if brave men shall be smitten down for the sake of any such matters. I am ready to make it up between ye two.”

To this they agreed, and he said:—“Vali, this methinks is the most likely way of bringing you together. Let Bersi take thy sister Thordis to wife. It is a match that may well be to thy worship.”

Bersi agreed to this, and it was settled that the land of Brekka should go along with her as a dowry; and so this troth was plighted between them. Bersi afterwards had a strong stone wall built around his homestead, and sat there for many winters in peace.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN. The Rescue Of Steinvor Slim-ankles.

There was a man named Thorarin Alfsson, who lived in the north at Thambardal; that is a dale which goes up from the fiord called Bitra. He was a big man and mighty, and he was by-named Thorarin the Strong. He had spent much of his time in seafaring (as a chapman) and so lucky was he that he always made the harbour he aimed at.

He had three sons; one was named Alf, the next Loft, and the third Skofti. Thorarin was a most overbearing man, and his sons took after him. They were rough, noisy fellows.

Not far away, at Tunga (Tongue) in Bitra, lived a man called Odd. His daughter was named Steinvor, a pretty girl and well set up; her by-name was Slim-ankles. Living with Odd were many fisherman; among them, staying there for the fishing-season, was one Glum, an ill-tempered carle and bad to deal with.

Now once upon a time these two, Odd and Glum, were in talk together which were the greatest men in the countryside. Glum reckoned Thorarin to be foremost, but Odd said Holmgang Bersi was better than he in every way.

“How can ye make that out?” asked Glum.

“Is there any likeness whatever,” said Odd, “between the bravery of Bersi and the knavery of Thorarin?”

So they talked about this until they fell out, and laid a wager upon it.

Then Glum wend and told Thorarin. He grew very angry and made many a threat against Odd. And in a while he went and carried off Steinvor from Tunga, all to spite her father; and he gave out that if Odd said anything against it, the worse for him: and so took her home to Thambardal.

Things went on so for a while, and then Odd went to see Holmgang Bersi, and told him what had happened. He asked him for help to get Steinvor back and to wreak vengeance for that shame. Bersi answered that such words had been better unsaid, and bade him go home and take no share in the business. “But yet,” added he, “I promise that I will see to it.”

No sooner was Odd gone than Bersi made ready to go from home. He rode fully armed, with Whitting at his belt, and three spears; he came to Thambardal when the day was far spent and the women were coming out of the bower. Steinvor saw him and turning to meet him told of her unhappiness.

“Make ready to go with me,” said he; and that she did.

He would not go to Thambardal for nothing, he said; and so he turned to the door where men were sitting by long fires. He knocked at the door, and out there came a man—his name was Thorleif. But Thorarin knew Bersi's voice, and rushed forth with a great carving-knife and laid on to him. Bersi was aware of it, and drew Whitting, and struck him his death-blow.

Then he leapt on horseback and set Steinvor on his knee and took his spears which she had kept for him. He rode some way into the wood, where in a hidden spot he left his horse and Steinvor, bidding her await him. Then he went to a narrow gap through which the high-road ran, and there made ready to stand against his foes.

In Thambardal there was anything but peace. Thorleif ran to tell the sons of Thorarin that he lay dead in the doorway. They asked who had done the deed. He told them. Then they went after Bersi and steered the shortest way to the gap, meaning to get there first; but by that time he was already first at the gap.

When they came near him, Bersi hurled a spear at Alf, and it went right through him. Then Loft cast at Bersi, but he caught the spear on his target and it dropped off. Then Bersi threw at Loft and killed him, and so he did by Skofti.

When all was over, the house-carles of the brothers came up. Thorleif turned back to meet them, and they all went home together.

After that Bersi went to find Steinvor, and mounted his horse. He came home before men were out of bed. They asked him about his journey and he told them. When Odd met him he asked about the fight and how it had passed, and Bersi answered in this verse:—

                    (45)
     “There was one fed the wolves has encountered
     His weird in the dale of the Bowstring—
     Thorarin the Strong, 'neath the slayer
     Lay slain by the might of my weapon.
     And loss of their lives men abided
     When Loft fell, and Alf fell, and Skofti.
     They were four, yonder kinsmen, and fated—
     They were fey—and I met them, alone!”

After that Odd went home, but Steinvor was with Bersi, though it misliked Thordis, his wife. By this time his stone wall was some-what broken down, but he had it built up again; and it is said that no blood-money was ever paid for Thorarin and his sons. So the time went on.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN. How Vali Fell Before An Old Man And A Boy.

Once on a day when Thordis and Bersi were talking together, said he, “I have been thinking I might ask Olaf Peacock for a child of his to foster.”

“Nay,” said she, “I think little of that. It seems to me a great trouble, and I doubt if folk will reckon more of us for it.”

“It means that I should have a sure friend,” answered he. “I have many foes, and I am growing heavy with age.”

So he went to see Olaf, and asked for a child to foster. Olaf took it with thanks, and Bersi carried Halldor home with him and got Steinvor to be nurse. This too misliked Thordis, and she laid hands on every penny she could get (for fear it should go to Steinvor and the foster-child).

At last Bersi took to ageing much. There was one time when men riding to the Thing stayed at his house. He sat all by himself, and his food was brought him before the rest were served. He had porridge while other folk had cheese and curds. Then he made this verse:—

                    (46)
     “To batten the black-feathered wound-bird
     With the blade of my axe have I stricken
     Full thirty and five of my foemen;
     I am famed for the slaughter of warriors.
     May the fiends have my soul if I stain not
     My sharp-edged falchion once over!
     And then let the breaker of broadswords
     Be borne—and with speed—to the grave!”

“What?” said Halldor; “hast thou a mind to kill another man, then?”

Answered Bersi, “I see the man it would rightly serve!”

Now Thordis let her brother Vali feed his herds on the land of Brekka. Bersi bade his house-carles work at home, and have no dealings with Vali; but still Halldor thought it a hardship that Bersi had not his own will with his own wealth. One day Bersi made this verse:—

                    (47)
     “Here we lie,
          Both on one settle—
     Halldor and I,
          Men of no mettle.
     Youth ails thee,
          But thou'lt win through it;
     Age ails me,
          And I must rue it!”

“I do hate Vali,” said Halldor; and Bersi answered thus in verse:—

                    (48)
     “Yon Vali, so wight as he would be,
     Well wot I our pasture he grazes;
     Right fain yonder fierce helmet-wearer
     Under foot my dead body would trample!
     But often my wrongs have I wreaked
     In wrath on the mail-coated warrior—
     On the stems of the sun of the ocean
     I have stained the wound-serpent for less!”

And again he said:—

                    (49)
     “With eld I am listless and lamed—
     I, the lord of the gold of the armlet:
     I sit, and am still under many
     A slight from the warders of spear-meads.
     Though shield-bearers shape for the singer
     To shiver alone in the grave-mound,
     Yet once in the war would I redden
     The wand that hews helms ere I fail.”

“Thy heart is not growing old, foster-father mine!” cried Halldor.

Upon that Bersi fell into talk with Steinvor, and said to her “I am laying a plot, and I need thee to help me.”

She said she would if she could.

“Pick a quarrel,” said he, “with Thordis about the milk-kettle, and do thou hold on to it until you whelm it over between you. Then I will come in and take her part and give thee nought but bad words. Then go to Vali and tell him how ill we treat thee.”

Everything turned out as he had planned. She went to Vali and told him that things were no way smooth for her; would he take her over the gap (to Bitra to her father's:) and so he did.

But when he was on the way back again, out came Bersi and Halldor to meet him. Bersi had a halberd in one hand and a staff in the other, and Halldor had Whitting. As soon as Vali saw them he turned and hewed at Bersi. Halldor came at his back and fleshed Whitting in his hough-sinews. Thereupon he turned sharply and fell upon Halldor. Then Bersi set the halberd-point betwixt his shoulders. That was his death-wound.

Then they set his shield at his feet and his sword at his head, and spread his cloak over him; and after that got on horseback and rode to five homesteads to make known the deed they had done and then rode home. Men went and buried Vali, and the place where he fell has ever since been called Vali's fall.

Halldor was twelve winters old when these doings came to pass.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. How Steingerd Was Married Again.

Now there was a man named Thorvald, the son of Eystein, bynamed the Tinker: he was a wealthy man, a smith, and a skald; but he was mean-spirited for all that. His brother Thorvard lived in the north country at Fliot (Fleet); and they had many kinsmen,— the Skidings they were called,—but little luck or liking.

Now Thorvald the Tinker asked Steingerd to wife. Her folk were for it, and she said nothing against it; and so she was wed to him in the very same summer in which she left Bersi.

When Cormac heard the news he made as though he knew nothing whatever about the matter; for a little earlier he had taken his goods aboard ship, meaning to go away with his brother. But one morning early he rode from the ship and went to see Steingerd; and when he got talk with her, he asked would she make him a shirt. To which she answered that he had no business to pay her visits; neither Thorvald nor his kinsmen would abide it, she said, but have their revenge.

Thereupon he made his voice:—

                    (50)
     “Nay, think it or thole it I cannot,
     That thou, a young fir of the forest
     Enwreathed in the gold that thou guardest,
     Shouldst be given to a tinkering tinsmith.
     Nay, scarce can I smile, O thou glittering
     In silk like the goddess of Baldur,
     Since thy father handfasted and pledged thee,
     So famed as thou art, to a coward.”

“In such words,” answered Steingerd, “an ill will is plain to hear. I shall tell Thorvald of this ribaldry: no man would sit still under such insults.”

Then sang Cormac:—

                    (51)
     “What gain is to get if he threatens,
     White goddess in raiment of beauty,
     The scorn that the Skidings may bear me?
     I'll set them a weft for their weaving!
     I'll rhyme you the roystering caitiffs
     Till rocks go afloat on the water;
     And lucky for them if they loosen
     The line of their fate that I ravel!”

Thereupon they parted with no blitheness, and Cormac went to his ship.





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. Cormac's Voyage To Norway.

The two brothers had but left the roadstead, when close beside their ship, uprose a walrus. Cormac hurled at it a pole-staff, which struck the beast, so that it sank again: but the men aboard thought that they knew its eyes for the eyes of Thorveig the witch. That walrus came up no more, but of Thorveig it was heard that she lay sick to death; and indeed folk say that this was the end of her.

Then they sailed out to sea, and at last came to Norway, where at that time Hakon, the foster-son of Athelstan, was king. He made them welcome, and so they stayed there the winter long with all honour.

Next summer they set out to the wars, and did many great deeds. Along with them went a man called Siegfried, a German of good birth; and they made raids both far and wide. One day as they were gone up the country eleven men together came against the two brothers, and set upon them; but this business ended in their overcoming the whole eleven, and so after a while back to their ship. The vikings had given them up for lost, and fain were their folk when they came back with victory and wealth.

In this voyage the brothers got great renown: and late in the summer, when winter was coming on, they made up their minds to steer for Norway. They met with cold winds; the sail was behung with icicles, but the brothers were always to the fore. It was on his voyage that Cormac made the song:—