“Saying good or ill, so it surely is, girl,” answered Asmund.  “No more shalt thou go a-kissing, in the snow or in the flowers.”

“Now I seem to hear Swanhild’s voice,” she said.  “Well, such things have happened to better folk, and a father’s wish is to a maid what the wind is to the grass.  Still, the sun is behind the cloud and it will shine again some day.  Till then, Eric, fare thee well!”

“It is not thy will, lord,” said Eric, “that I should come to thy Yule-feast as thou hast asked me these ten years past?”

Now Asmund grew wroth, and pointed with his hand towards the great Golden Falls that thunder down the mountain named Stonefell that is behind Middalhof, and there are no greater water-falls in Iceland.

“A man may take two roads, Eric, from Coldback to Middalhof, one by the bridle-path over Coldback and the other down Golden Falls; but I never knew traveller to choose this way.  Now, I bid thee to my feast by the path over Golden Falls; and, if thou comest that way, I promise thee this:  if thou livest I will greet thee well, and if I find thee dead in the great pool I will bind on thy Hell-shoes and lay thee to earth neighbourly fashion.  But if thou comest by any other path, then my thralls shall cut thee down at my door.”  And he stroked his beard and laughed.

Now Asmund spoke thus mockingly because he did not think it possible that any man should try the path of the Golden Falls.

Eric smiled and said, “I hold thee to thy word, lord; perhaps I shall be thy guest at Yule.”

But Gudruda heard the thunder of the mighty Falls as the wind turned, and cried “Nay, nay—­it were thy death!”

Then Eric finds his horse and rides away across the snow.

Now it must be told of Koll the Half-witted that at length he came to Swinefell in the north, having journeyed hard across the snow.  Here Ospakar Blacktooth had his great hall, in which day by day a hundred men sat down to meat.  Now Koll entered the hall when Ospakar was at supper, and looked at him with big eyes, for he had never seen so wonderful a man.  He was huge in stature—­his hair was black, and black his beard, and on his lower lip there lay a great black fang.  His eyes were small and narrow, but his cheekbones were set wide apart and high, like those of a horse.  Koll thought him an ill man to deal with and half a troll,[*] and grew afraid of his errand, since in Koll’s half-wittedness there was much cunning—­for it was a cloak in which he wrapped himself.  But as Ospakar sat in the high seat, clothed in a purple robe, with his sword Whitefire on his knee, he saw Koll, and called out in a great voice: 

[*] An able-bodied Goblin.

“Who is this red fox that creeps into my earth?”

For, to look at, Koll was very like a fox.

“My name is Koll the Half-witted, Groa’s thrall, lord.  Am I welcome here?” he answered.

“That is as it may be.  Why do they call thee half-witted?”