Now Gunnar leaped out of the bedcloset, in spite of the pains in his belly, and began shouting for Birgitta, who came in from the dairy, where she had been cutting cheese curds. And Birgitta, too, cast down her eyes, for she knew the source of Gunnar’s anger. And after this, for the next six days, Gunnar refused to speak to Birgitta, and the two waited in fear for news of the seal hunt. And no knowledge of any sort came to Birgitta, in dreams or awake, and this made her a bit sanguine for a good outcome.
It was the custom of the Greenlanders to row their boats to the mouth of Alptafjord and hide there among the islands until the seals began to appear from the south in their great numbers. Then the boats would move outward in a line, and go among the seals and try to force groups of them into small inlets and fjords, where they could be speared or clubbed and dragged quickly out before they sank. For this work, Finn was not ready to be amused, or to allow any transgressions on the part of Kollgrim Gunnarsson, and it happened that he tied the boy by his hands to the gunwale of the boat and bade him only to watch. And Kollgrim was tied thus for three days, and only let go at night, when boats were pulled out of the water and folk were engaged in butchering and boiling down blubber. And when he let Kollgrim go, Finn only said that Kollgrim should be ready for the boat when the time came to depart, for it was not possible for Finn to wait for him and allow the seals to get far past them. And so Kollgrim was on his own at night.
On one of these nights, Kollgrim was going among the camps of men and looking about, and some folk called him over and asked his name, as often happened. He gazed boldly upon them and said that all who knew anything knew that he was Kollgrim Gunnarsson of Lavrans Stead in Hvalsey Fjord, and that he had been brought along by the hunter Finn Thormodsson, surely they knew of him, to help in the seal hunt. Now the men laughed, and one of them said, “Is your father, Gunnar, then, a famous man, though he dwells on but a poor steading that came to him through his wife?”
“Any man may be tricked out of his patrimony, and that is a fact. Certain folk, who have the second sight, see that it will return to us.”
“It seems to me that Gunnar Asgeirsson is but a murderer and a fool, and Vatna Hverfi district is the more pleasant for his leaving.” These men continued to laugh, and none more loudly than the man who was speaking.
Now Kollgrim stooped and picked up a large rock, and raised his arm to throw it, but another man, who was standing not far off, caught his arm and deflected the missile so that it hit a nearby boulder with a sharp smack.
Now the man who had been talking said, “The pup is like to the dog, then. Well, here is one you should meet.” And he stepped aside to reveal another man sitting on a rock behind him, eating his meat. This man now looked up. He was a burly dark fellow, but withal he had such a beautiful countenance that Kollgrim was content to look upon him for a few moments. The loud man yelled at him, “This is the one to throw your rock at, boy, this is the fellow who lives at Gunnars Stead, Jon Andres Erlendsson, and a wild fellow he is. ’Tis not a rock that will stop him if he cares to have something he wants.”
“Right now, Ofeig Thorkelsson, what I wish to have is my meat, and you are making a great deal of noise,” said Jon Andres. Then he looked at Kollgrim. It was the case that although Kollgrim was large for his age, he was still a boy. Jon Andres Erlendsson was just become a man, with a man’s stature and a man’s breadth. He looked sternly at Kollgrim for some moments while spooning up his food, then he put aside his bowl and said, “Do you know, boy, that your father injured my three brothers, so that they lay in torment before they were fortunate enough to die, and that this fellow Finn Thormodsson was the fiend who concocted the scheme of their destruction?”
“I know that your father and mother gave three sons so that they might have our great steading. It was a small price to pay, or so folk said at the time.” But indeed, Kollgrim could not take his eyes off Jon Andres. “Here is another tale. That your father and his second whore were gnawed by dogs. What neighbor do you blame for that?”
Now the man Ofeig began to laugh again, and he said, “I truly think this boy is half fox. He would rather bite than live.”
Now Kollgrim looked at him. “Are you intending to kill me, then, Ofeig Thorkelsson? Will it be by pushing my head into your belly and suffocating me?” And it was the case that Ofeig was somewhat fat. Now Kollgrim stooped again and picked up another rock.
Now Jon Andres spoke up and said, “It is not my wish to start a fight with a boy. You came upon us unexpectedly, and we only wished to know who you might be, little thinking that it would have anything to do with us. You had best go back to Finn Thormodsson and forget that we have met.”
Now Kollgrim glanced around, and in the late dusk, for this was not long before the feast of St. Kolumkilli and the days were very long, he saw some birds down by the shore, picking among the leavings of the Greenlanders, and he shouted and raised his arm, and the birds lifted a little off the strand, and he threw the rock and felled one of them, as Finn had taught him to do. And after this he turned to Jon Andres and said, “This is the sort of boy that I am,” and he walked off, but as if reluctantly, and he looked back two or three times. One of the men with Ofeig, whose name was Mar, went down to the water and picked up the bird. When he brought it back to Ofeig, they saw that its head was smashed in.
The next morning Finn Thormodsson tied Kollgrim’s hands to the gunwale of the boat once again, and they set out. On this, the third day, it was intended that the seals would be herded into Hvalsey Fjord and Kambstead Fjord, but it was the custom that all the hunters would follow the seals until the end of the hunt, to make sure that the northerly farmsteads would have as much sealmeat as the southerly ones. Even so, Finn intended to stop at Lavrans Stead and get another suit of clothes for himself, as the ones he was wearing were wet and soaked with blood and melted blubber.
Before the sun was well up, they were nearly to Lavrans Stead, and Finn looked at Kollgrim and said, “It may be that Gunnar is up and about after the passage of these days, and it may be that he will seize you and prevent you from going on the rest of the hunt.”
Kollgrim replied, “Do you wish that he will?”
Now Finn smiled, showing lots of teeth, and said, “You are no trouble to me, however you seem to folk from other districts.”
“It may be that folk from other districts will not insult me and threaten me again.”
“Or it may be that they will be led by mischief into doing whatever they please. Folk from other districts often act in unaccountable ways.”
“Even so, this hunting life is agreeable to me. I wonder that my father and Olaf don’t like it.”
And so Finn put Kollgrim out of the boat on shore some distance from the Lavrans Stead jetty, and told him that he would return shortly, and so he did, in other clothes, and bringing clothes for Kollgrim as well. And when Kollgrim climbed into the boat, Finn tied his hands to the gunwale and they rowed in silence back out the mouth of the fjord, and this detour had taken them but a short while, and Finn caught up quickly to the line of boats that was herding seals into the islands at the mouth of Eriks Fjord, and he didn’t speak of what he had found at Lavrans Stead, although Kollgrim looked at him with curiosity and eagerness.
Now they brought a pod of seals to a very good bay, wide at the mouth and then narrowing sharply and ending in a low sandy beach. Only a few boats were needed to drive many seals out of the water and up onto the strand, where they would lie, mildly awaiting the strokes of the Greenlanders’ spears. But even so, the wide mouth of the bay was deceptively deep, and men who had hunted before never speared seals in the water here, for they were sure to sink at once, and carry spears with them. Now it happened that someone in a boat near Finn’s boat succumbed to the temptation of the boiling seals around him, for a man could reach out and touch their slick bodies, and he poked his spear into the back of the seal nearest him—a succulent, half-grown beast. But the seal now twisted and pulled the spear out of the man’s hands,
and without thinking, the man reached for it, and was pitched by his leaping boat into the water, among the seething of the pod of seals. And this disturbance seemed to arouse some of the seals, and more than half of the pod turned and broke through the line of boats, and made for the open sea, so that the catch was considerably diminished, and in addition to this, the man and his spear were lost and his boat was tossed against a rock by the swimming of the seals, and caved in.
In the midst of this, Finn leaned forward and untied Kollgrim’s hands, so that he could balance himself better in the boat, and when they had driven the seals up onto the strand, Finn handed the boy a short spear, and so Kollgrim went among the prostrate beasts and stabbed them in their throats, and the blood spurted out over his spear and his hands, so that the spear grew slippery and hard to grasp, and Kollgrim seized a large rock and began smashing this weapon down upon the heads of the seals, large and small, white and brown. After he was finished, Finn and another hunter came to him and praised him highly, for he had killed some twenty-five beasts, enough for the farmstead to live on through the autumn at least until Yule. And now Finn said, “So it is become true, what I told Gunnar Asgeirsson this morning, that you are more a help than a hindrance on the trip.”
The next day they followed the seals to the most northerly of the settlements, where men lived very poorly and depended almost entirely upon seals and stranded whales for sustenance, and had few dogs, and no church at all, and the next day after that, they returned to Hvalsey Fjord with some fifteen beasts, in the boat and in tow, not so many as folk had hoped there would be, but indeed to Kollgrim it seemed that he was mired in blubber and lost in a mountain of sealmeat. Finn told Gunnar that Kollgrim had caused no trouble and attracted none, and Gunnar looked upon his son with unaccustomed pleasure for many days after this.
Soon came St. Bartholomew’s mass and the sun stayed high and hot, but the grass in Hvalsey Fjord seemed to draw moisture up from the depths of the earth, for it continued green and thick, and so it was in other districts, too, and in this summer Gunnar allowed Kollgrim to go off with Finn more and more, for snaring birds or catching hares and foxes, and it happened that Kollgrim especially liked to hunt in Einars Fjord, though the best hunting was not to be found there, and on these hunts, Kollgrim caught glimpses of Undir Hofdi church and Gunnars Stead and Ketils Stead and the folk who went about these farms, and Finn saw this curiosity, but after all he said nothing of it to Gunnar and the summer passed uneventfully and in the fall the sheep were very fat and healthy and toward the beginning of the winter nights the stomach ill passed from the Greenlanders entirely, and no one had it or knew anyone who had it, and at the beginning of this winter there were more feasts than usual.
Margret Asgeirsdottir stayed with Sigurd at Steinstraumstead only until the end of the summer nights, then she herded her sheep along the northerly shore of Eriks Fjord and across the river there at the head of the fjord that was known as Braided River, and then she herded them down the southerly side of the fjord, with her other belongings on her back and Sigurd by the hand, and she stopped at each steading and offered her services weaving and five of her twelve ewes and lambs as payment for winter boarding, and before she came to Brattahlid she went over land along the river and asked at the inland farms between Eriks Fjord and Isafjord, and it happened that she found a place with an old couple who had a foolish son and some servingmen but no servingwomen. And this is where Margret and Sigurd stayed for the winter. As it happened, though, she was too silent for the old woman, who was always looking for someone to talk to and to share news with, and they agreed in the spring that this would not be a customary arrangement but that Margret might return if she failed to find herself another place in that fall.
Also in this winter, Gunnar continued with his parchment making and his writing, as he had done for the two previous winters, and he was somewhat more pleased with his hand and his words than he had been. In this winter he wrote down what he remembered of Hauk Gunnarsson, and his trips to the Northsetur and to Markland, and his journey with the English Monk Nicholas into the far north. But indeed, this was painstaking work, not such a great pleasure as spinning and weaving, his old winter occupations, had been, and not so appreciated by Birgitta Lavransdottir, who complained of the mess, nor by Olaf Finnbogason, who thought it an endeavor of little worth.
Now in this summer Sigurd Kolsson was nine winters old and more, and he looked to be strong and big, as Asta had been. He was a great help to Margret around Steinstraumstead, and she was very fond of him. He had a certain way about him that was unusual, of seeming to step back from each event or object and take it in for a moment before acting. It seemed to Margret that this considering manner must be an inheritance from Quimiak, whom Asta had called Koll. Quimiak himself she had not seen in about two years, since before the death of Asta Thorbergsdottir, and she did not really expect to see him again, as skraelings were like wild animals in this, that they appeared for many seasons in a row and then, inexplicably, disappeared, perhaps to reappear again and perhaps not. Folk sometimes spoke of the vanishing of the reindeer, and even the vanishing of such as foxes and hares, after they had been everywhere only the year before. At any rate, Margret did not wonder about Quimiak, and only remembered him from time to time when she was gazing upon Sigurd.
Steinstraumstead was falling down. Many hard winters had damaged the turf about the walls of the steading so that it crumbled away at a touch and blew away in the breeze and washed away in the rain. Margret had neither the means nor the knowledge to cut turf, even as inexpertly as Asta had done from time to time for repairs. Other things that they had been given upon coming here, or that Margret had brought with her, such as basins and coverlets and spoons, were in equal disrepair, and the folk Margret had stayed with the previous winter had had none themselves to give her, and indeed, the old man had sighed at the departure of Margret’s five ewes, though she had left him three yearling sheep, a ram and two ewes. The woman had taken all of the agreed-upon weaving and put it away in her chests, and not offered any of it to Margret on her departure, as even Gudrunn did at Brattahlid, but it was the case that this family’s clothes were poor and threadbare, and through the joint ill the old woman had been unable to weave, or even to spin, for many years. At any rate, all of Margret’s and Sigurd’s things, from their clothing (for Margret had no loom at Steinstraumstead) to their steading, had come bit by bit to a state of disrepair, and between the woman and the boy there was neither the skill nor the energy to put much to rights. The ewes dropped four healthy lambs and gave plentifully of their milk, though, and so Margret made lots of cheeses.
And in the middle of the summer, a boat came from Brattahlid, from Sira Isleif, who sent word that he was now entirely blind and confined within doors, for the light gave him throbbing headaches, but he sent his goodwill to Margret and also a boatload of dried sealmeat from the hunt, which had been especially good this year. He also said that he would send another boatload of reindeer meat in the autumn. The servant had much gossip of Ragnleif and Gudrunn, who, he said, were not suited to each other, but happy enough in the size of their farm, and this was what kept them together. Sira Isleif, he said, was so little thought of by Gudrunn, in spite of the fact that he was Ragnleif’s brother, that sometimes he didn’t even get his dinner, as an oversight, and then when someone pointed it out, Gudrunn would say, “Well, he can eat more in the morning, then,” and not let any of the servants rectify the matter. It was true that Sira Isleif had become a querulous and complaining dependent who had little to contribute to the work on the steading, but indeed, there was too much work, with all the fields, no respite from raking manure, manuring the fields, forking it in, repairing fences, herding sheep, making cheese. Too few servants and too much land.
Now Margret wondered aloud whether Gudrunn might need some help in the autumn, but the servingman gazed upon her skeptically and said that she should go elsewhere, for all of Marta Thordardottir’s former favorites had a hard
time of it, and were blamed for everything that went wrong, and Ragnleif had no control over this, or over much else, even the treatment of his only remaining daughter by his first wife, who acted the part of a servant herself, though she was but ten years old. Now they sat silently for a while, and then Margret said aloud, “How was it that Sira Isleif could send such a quantity of sealmeat, then?”
The servingman shrugged and smiled. After a moment, he said, “Sira Isleif has one or two friends among the servingfolk, it might be said, who have their own schemes for this and that.”
“But Gudrunn Jonsdottir will be angry with you.”
“But indeed, there is plenty of work to do about the place, and experience is valuable. She will only be angry, she won’t act upon her anger.”
Now their talk turned to others. Among the guests about the place recently, the new lawspeaker had turned up and been greatly honored. He was a very young man, not more than twenty-five winters or so, this Bjorn Bollason. Already he had a daughter and two sons by his wife, who was some five winters older than he. He was a proud man, well dressed and haughty, but for all that much interested in Sira Isleif, with whom he had spent most of his visit, and it turned out that Sira Isleif had been teaching him some of the laws, for he did not know half of what he needed to know. It was said that Gudrunn planned to send Sira Isleif to the man in the winter, since he was so fond of him, and Sira Isleif was not loath to go. But nothing of these things had actually been spoken aloud, only in whispers among the servants. “However low folk have fallen,” said the servingman, whose hair was gray and who had a habit of rubbing his fingers, for they were afflicted with the joint ill, “sending away a priest and a brother and a blind man into the care of strangers is still something they hesitate before doing.”