Presently, more boats arrived and were drawn up onto the strand, and the little bay filled up with armed men. Finn Thormodsson, wherever he had been, returned, and Kollgrim went over to him. He stayed with him all the rest of that morning. Now the Greenlanders split up into a number of bands and these set out to reconnoiter, with one band going off to inspect the old reindeer pits and the others going off in separate directions to find the largest groups of reindeer, and expecting not to have to go far. But such was not the case, for near the shore the reindeer were if anything rather sparse, and men began remembering how on Hreiney the deer tended to cluster here or there, anywhere but where they were then standing. It was a fact that forage on the island was poor, as poor as it was on any of the poorest farms in the eastern settlement. Now it was discovered that the pits were full of windblown sand, fuller than they had ever been, and unusable, and there was some grumbling about how Sira Jon and Sira Pall Hallvardsson had failed in their duty of maintaining the pits, but indeed, said folk from Gardar, how were they expected to do that and everything else too, for it was there as it was everywhere, too much land and too few hands. The great hopes of the Greenlanders began to be dashed, then, and some men sat down in discouragement and began to worry their food sacks.
But it happened that two groups, who had gone the farthest and ended up at the cliffs overlooking the wide western ocean, did find reindeer. Not teeming swarms, but plenty, if the hunters were canny and skilled, to feed the Greenlanders for the winter. And now the men, who had resigned themselves to finding nothing, jumped with a general shout and trekked to where the reindeer were, and the leaders of the hunt conferred as to the best method of killing quantities of the animals. Their considerations were these, that the deer had been hunted rather recently, and so would be wary of men, that the pits were no longer serviceable in any way, that the deer were on the other side of the island from the spot where in the past they had been herded into the water, that the cliffs were high and the water beneath them turbulent with underwater rocks, so that even if boats could get among them, were they herded off the cliff, the deer themselves would probably be much broken and damaged through the pounding of the surf. Now a party, which included Finn and Kollgrim, walked along the cliffs searching for another spot that was not too far from where the herds were which would offer at least some advantages.
It was the case that Finn knew this island of Hreiney rather well, in spite of the fact that hunters were prohibited from it without permission from the bishopric, and it was also the case that the taste of Hreiney meat was quite familiar to the mouths of the Lavrans Stead folk, although they did not perhaps know it, for the fact was that Gunnar never inquired too deeply into the sources of Finn’s prizes. From his knowledge Finn saw two things, which he told in a low voice to Kollgrim, and one of these was that the best place on the north side of the island for herding the animals into the water was farther from the main herd than the Greenlanders would be able to take them, for reindeer are not like sheep, and can be held together only for a little ways, even with many dogs, especially if the herd is small. The other of these was that the herd itself would wander toward the spot during the night, perhaps, and the next day, for the grass there was better than it was elsewhere. But Finn was a servant and Kollgrim was a boy, and so they kept their mouths shut. Sometime later, after much arguing, the others came to the same conclusions, and all turned back to the main group of Greenlanders. And after this all the men and all the dogs retreated, so that the deer would not catch wind of them, and also so that the dogs would not catch wind of the deer and set up a clamor. All settled in to wait. Just after dusk, it began to rain, and it was a cold, wet, ocean rain, such as pierced the most tightly woven woolen clothing and left sheepskins soaking. Toward morning the deer began moving off as Finn had predicted, but in the rain they moved at a slow pace. Another night and another day passed, and all the men had eaten up their provisions, and the dogs were whining with hunger.
Now on the third morning, the sun rose upon the deer, and they were almost but not quite far enough toward the herding spot, and so those men who had boats took other men and went off to get the boats and bring them around to where the deer would go into the water. Those men who had dogs sat themselves down and resolved to wait, but soon the intelligence came that rather than moving toward the herding spot, the deer were moving away from it, to the south and inland, toward the hunters. And now the wind shifted, blowing the scent of the deer toward the dogs, and these beasts, which were numerous and hungry, set up a deafening howl. The deer began splitting up and running, and so the hunt began, although the lookout posted to watch for the boats coming around the island had given no signal yet. Men and dogs spread out in a wide semicircle that tightened as it moved toward the shore, scooping the deer before it, and, a piece of luck, panicking only a few of the deer into running straight ahead and escaping around the closing edge of the flank. Soon, too soon, the two flanks were at the strand, and it was time for the semicircle to flatten and push the deer into the water. But no boats were to be seen, so some men with spears, fearing to lose all of the effort, went among the deer with spears, killing a few and frightening the others, so that some of them broke past the rim of men and dogs and escaped. Now a great deal of shouting broke out among the Greenlanders, and men began to turn toward each other with their weapons raised, but then the lookout gave his signal, and the first boats appeared in the turbulent sea. The semicircle flattened quickly, and the deer began running into the ocean, the dogs at their heels.
The men in the boats rowed quickly into the herd and began laying about themselves with their spears. The trick was to thrust a spear into the chest of a deer, killing it with a single stroke, then to pull the deer close to the boat, using the spear, and grab the antlers, so that the beast could be lashed to the gunwale of the boat, but it happened that the sea was so rough from the rain of the previous two days that many beasts were lost. In addition to this, many spears were lost, and two boats, and two men were drowned, and when the day was over, it was seen that each farmstead represented would receive but three of the animals, and indeed, they were poor enough animals, for they had been grazing on skimpy forage for most of the summer.
On the fourth day, some men, led by Finn Thormodsson, set out from the main group of Greenlanders, and found a small group of reindeer, not more than two score, grazing in a blind culvert, and they ran them into a pocket made by three cliff walls, and took them all, even spindly, half-grown fawns. And this was the result of the reindeer hunt on Hreiney, great expense of effort for little reward, and folk began to talk about the deer that had run across the Gardar field on the last day of the Thing. It was also the case that not a few men sickened from the wet conditions of the hunt, and lay ill through part of the autumn work.
And this was the trick that Jon Andres Erlendsson and Ofeig Thorkelsson played on Kollgrim Gunnarsson on the last day of the hunt, when Finn was off with his band. They came upon him where he was sitting with the Lavrans Stead dogs, and seized him and carried him off away from the others to a spot overlooking the water, and there they took his hood and twisted it around so that his face was hidden, and they tied the shoulder pieces together so that it stayed this way. Then they ripped around the bottom of his robe and used this piece to tie his hands together behind him, and then they ripped around his robe again, so that his undergarments showed, and they used this piece to tie together his feet, and they tied it as well to the piece that bound his hands. And now they took him out in a boat that they found, for Jon Andres’ boat was pulled up on the strand with the others, and they tipped him out of the boat and into the water, with the remark that perhaps this treatment would persuade him to leave them alone. After doing this, the men rowed back to where the others were, and declared that a certain man, of Hvalsey Fjord, had fallen into the water and needed help, and other men, good rowers in fast boats, went after Kollgrim, for it is the case that no man can survive for very long in the cold waters of Greenl
and. And Kollgrim was out of his senses, and was carried home in this fashion, and he remained insensible for many days, and only gradually returned to his old self in the course of the autumn. And in this way, Gunnar saw that the enmity between himself and the Ketils Stead folk was renewed, and he was wildly torn between anger at Jon Andres and Ofeig and anger at Kollgrim for provoking them, and he sat quietly at Lavrans Stead afterward and considered what sort of case he could make for the Thing.
In this year there was little festivity at Yule time, for folk were intent upon eking out what stores they had. It was a saying among the Greenlanders that folk who ate meat until the second Sunday of Lent would have cheese at Easter, but cheese on the second Sunday in Lent meant an Easter fast, and so the bits of meat were cut finer and finer to make them last. Finn Thormodsson and Gunnar, and Kollgrim, too, as the winter wore on, spent not a little time setting snares for ptarmigan, but this was the recourse for every farm, and the ptarmigan were not so plentiful as they might have been, or had been, in the days when Gunnar would get up in the morning to find a dozen birds hanging from the house eaves. And now folk talked of Petur the steward’s dream and said that after such a sign, nothing would be enough, there could not be enough until God showed another sign that His curse was lifted.
It happened that after the fjords froze up and snow fell over the land, some folk got into the habit of making pilgrimages to the shrine of St. Olaf the Greenlander at Solar Fell, more than had been making these pilgrimages, and at the shrine, they would leave tiny trinkets in the form of whales carved from soapstone, for everyone longed for a stranded whale or two to take folk through the winter. Other folk began to go, sometimes, to Gardar for their pilgrimage and pray over the finger bone of St. Olaf, who was now called the Norwegian. Sira Pall Hallvardsson gave orders that a vat of broth with meat and fat in it should always be hot in the kitchen, and that each of these pilgrims should get a bowl of this food, and he also said mass if there were enough of them. At Solar Fell, folk were given bits of dried meat with their broth, but there was no mass to go to, as Sira Isleif had gone back to his brother’s farm the previous winter. In addition to these pilgrimages, Sira Pall Hallvardsson said an extra mass at Gardar every day, solely to accumulate prayers for the relief of the Greenlanders, but each day passed as the days before it had, and there was no relief.
It was Sira Pall Hallvardsson’s custom to go every day to the cell where Sira Jon spent his time and converse with the other priest. And he did this every day, no matter what else there was to be done, for it was not a duty to him, but a kind of fearful pleasure. Many times he would find Sira Jon sitting or squatting, with his eyes closed, and they would go on thus, in silence, for the whole period of the visit. Other times he would find the priest praying in wild loud tones, with greater vigor than Sira Pall Hallvardsson had ever brought to his prayers, and with great scowls or with tears coursing down his cheeks. Still other times, Sira Jon would be in a conversational humor and relate to him tales that he had been thinking on, and ask him for news of the outdoors, for it was the case that the mad priest never left his cell, out of dread, for he said that the low ceiling and tight walls contained him, and that in the open air he would surely burst. Once each year, toward the end of the summer, Sira Jon was obliged to bathe by force, and to be sewn into a new set of clothes, with the seams in the back where he could not reach them, and finely sewn of sturdy wadmal so that they could not be torn off, and sometimes in the course of this operation, he had to be knocked insensible so that it could proceed, for he longed with a madman’s longing to be unclothed, and was always scheming to rid himself of his garments. Of his food he ate little, and in this autumn Sira Pall Hallvardsson began watching his trencher, and every day that he ate nothing, Sira Pall Hallvardsson was pleased, for he saw that a man could live on very little. And so the autumn passed at Gardar, and the Yule came on, and passed, as well, and the stream of pilgrims swelled a bit, to both Solar Fell and Gardar, and the broth at each place got a little thinner, and the dried meat at Solar Fell became a taste, no more, of cheese, and Signy went to her husband and declared that soon the pilgrims would be taking food out of the mouths of the servants and the family, there was so little, and at this news, Bjorn Bollason made his own pilgrimage to Gardar, and was sequestered with Pall Hallvardsson for an evening. And Bjorn Bollason said to Pall Hallvardsson, “It seems to me that such stores have accumulated at this bishopric as would carry us through the rest of the winter, and into the time of the seal hunt, for it is no secret that the Gardar storehouses are full, or nearly so.”
“Folk think there is more than there is, or could be. And in addition to that, these tithes belong to the archbishop of Nidaros.”
“And surely it would be the wish of the archbishop that the people be given alms in their time of need.”
“Or perhaps it would be his wish that their alms be saved for later times, when conditions are even worse than they are now. At any rate, the archbishop has but a single known policy, and that is that his belongings be sent him as soon as possible, and saved for him until then.”
“It seems to me cruel to sit upon all of these stores while folk are dying.”
“Indeed, I have not heard that folk are dying now. It seems to me foolish to speak of our straits as desperate before they become so. A whale may strand in the south, or the reindeer may pass through, indeed, there are many ways the Lord might aid us, if He would, before we are reduced to stealing His belongings. Now is the time to pray, not to plunder His storehouses.”
“The will of the Lord is a mystery even to you.”
“But the will of the archbishop is not.” And so Bjorn Bollason was balked, and returned to Solar Fell for a time.
It happened just before Lent that Sira Audun began one of his journeys to the south. He intended to go by stages to Herjolfsnes and then to return, saying Easter mass at Undir Hofdi church. He also intended to bring back with him his nephew, Eindridi, who had lost his wife and wished to be made a priest. Sira Audun had persuaded Pall Hallvardsson that Eindridi’s knowledge of reading and writing outweighed his age (some twenty-six winters) and his knowledge of the wedded state. In addition to this, Eindridi had a son, Andres, a boy of some eight winters in age, and the boy, too, would be trained for the priesthood, Eindridi promised. Sira Audun went on skis with the servant Ingvald and they made quick time to Undir Hofdi church, where they settled themselves in and began receiving folk for prayers and absolution, and folk came in a stream far into the night, and some of these folk declared to the priest that they little expected to live out the winter. Sira Audun was told that some folk had died on two of the poorer farms, a man and his wife and their infant son on one and two young men and their mother on the other, and these were the first deaths in Vatna Hverfi district that were owing to this hunger.
Now Sira Audun and the servingman made themselves beds in the priest’s house and went to sleep, and it happened in the night that thieves came into the steading and stole much of Sira Audun’s food that he had brought with him from Gardar, and in the morning the priest and the servingman had naught but two cheeses left over.
This morning was Sunday morning, and Sira Audun prepared to say a mass, and the servingman Ingvald was to act as his assistant during the mass. Many people now came to this mass, since after the death of Sira Nikolaus, the services offered by Sira Audun were the only ones in the district. And when the folk were assembled and sitting on the benches that had been brought in, Sira Audun came before them and said nothing, and sat himself down beside his servingman, and only stared ahead of himself for a long while. Soon those gathered became restive and began talking loudly among themselves, and finally one man named Axel, who was known as a clownish fellow, shouted, “This priest must be dumb! Ho, priest! Speak up! We can’t hear you!” and Sira Audun stood up and turned to face the assembly.
“Now!” he said in a great roar. “The Lord Jesus came among them, and they stole His sustenance from Him, and took His shoes and
left Him without a coat, and then they turned upon Him and demanded, Why dost Thou not bless us? And the Lord said to them, Why have ye taken My things from me? And they said, Thou art God, Thou needst not the food and clothing of men, but can conjure these things at will. But Jesus said, Nay, ye are saved in Me only as I am a man, and when ye steal My shoes, I cut My feet on the stones of the road, and when ye take My coat I shiver in the cold and when ye eat up My food, I go hungry, and so My Father appears to me in a dream, and He says, where are these things that Thou must have to live? And I say that men have taken them from Me out of their own greed, and have fought over them, so that the coat is torn and the shoes are lost and the food is dropped in the dust, and My Father is filled with wrath, and He says, what are these men, that they choose such evil, why should they not be destroyed?” Sira Audun’s voice rose. “Why should they not he destroyed!” And then he spoke more quietly. “Ye are saved when I am a brother to ye, and destroyed when ye deal with Me as an enemy.” And he sat down again and waited. Those present were much taken aback by this speech, and made quiet, even though many suspected that it was a parable that Sira Audun himself had concocted. But even though Sira Audun glared out over the folk, no man stood up and admitted to the food stealing. After a while, Sira Audun got up and removed his vestments and left the church, and to Magnus Arnason of Nes, who was standing by the door, he declared that he would hold the service when the provisions for his trip were returned to him, and then he and the servingman went into the priest’s house and closed the door.