“True, lord,” answered Skallagrim; “but when once my axe is aloft, it seems to fly of itself, till nothing is left before it.  What course now?”

“The same on which the Gudruda was laid.  Perhaps, if we may endure till we come to the Farey Isles,[*] we shall find her in harbour there.”

[*] The Faroes.

“There is not much chance of that,” said Skallagrim; “still, the wind is fair, and we fly fast before it.”

Then they lashed the tiller and set to bailing.  They bailed long, and it was heavy work, but they rid the ship of much water.  After that they ate food, for it was now morning, and it came on to blow yet more strongly.

For three days and three nights it blew thus, and the Raven sped along before the gale.  All this time, turn and turn about, Eric and Skallagrim stood at the helm and tended the sails.  They had little time to eat, and none to sleep.  They were so hard pressed also, and must harbour their strength so closely, that the bodies of the dead men yet cumbered the hold.  Thus they grew very weary and like to fall from faintness, but still they held the Raven on her course.  In the beginning of the fourth night a great sea struck the good ship so that she quivered from stem to stern.

“Methinks I hear water bubbling up,” said Skallagrim in a hoarse voice.

Eric climbed down into the well and lifted the bottom planks, and there beneath them was a leak through which the water spouted in a thin stream.  He stopped up the rent as best he might with garments from the dead men, and placed ballast stones upon them, then clambered on to the deck again.

“Our hours are short now,” he said, “the water rushes in apace.”

“Well, it is time to rest,” said Skallagrim; “but see, lord!” and he pointed ahead.  “What land is that?”

“It must be the Fareys,” answered Eric; “now, if we can but keep afloat for three hours more, we may yet die ashore.”

After this the wind began to fall, but still there was enough to drive the Raven on swiftly.

And ever the water gained in the hold.

Now they were not far from land, for ahead of them the bleak hills towered up, shining in the faint midnight light, and between the hills was a cleft that seemed to be a fjord.  Another hour passed, and they were no more than ten furlongs from the mouth of the fjord, when suddenly the wind fell, and they were in calm water under shelter of the land.  They went amidships and looked.  The hold was half full of water, and in it floated the bodies of Ospakar’s men.

“She has not long to live,” said Skallagrim, “but we may still be saved if the boat is not broken.”

Now aft, near the tiller, a small boat was bound on the half deck of the Raven.  They went to it and looked; it was whole, with oars lashed in it, but half full of water, which they must bail out.  This they did as swiftly as they might; then they cut the little boat loose, and, having made it fast with a rope, lifted it over the side-rail and let it fall into the sea, and that was no great way, for the Raven had sunk deep.  It fell on an even keel, and Eric let himself down the rope into it and called to Skallagrim to follow.