“Bide a while, lord,” he answered; “there is that which I would bring with me.”

For a space Eric waited and then called aloud, “Swift! thou fool; swift! the ship sinks!”

And as he called, Skallagrim came, and his arms were full of swords and byrnies, and red rings of gold that he had found time to gather from the dead and out of the cabin.

“Throw all aside and come,” said Eric, laying on to the oars, for the Raven wallowed before she sank.

“There is yet time, lord, and the gear is good,” answered Skallagrim, and one by one he threw pieces down into the boat.  As the last fell the Raven sank to her bulwarks.  Then Skallagrim stepped from the sinking deck into the boat, and cut the cord, not too soon.

Eric gave way with all his strength, and, as he pulled, when he was no more than five fathoms from her, the Raven vanished with a huge swirl.

“Hold still,” he said, “or we shall follow.”

Round spun the boat in the eddy, she was sucked down till the water trickled over her gunwale, and for a moment they knew not if they were lost or saved.  Eric held his breath and watched, then slowly the boat lifted her nose, and they were safe from the whirlpool of the lost dragon.

“Greed is many a man’s bane,” said Eric, “and it was nearly thine and mine, Skallagrim.”

“I had no heart to leave the good gear,” he answered; “and thou seest, lord, it is safe and we with it.”

Then they got the boat’s head round slowly into the mouth of the fjord, pausing now and again to rest, for their strength was spent.  For two hours they rowed down a gulf, as it were, and on either side of them were barren hills.  At length the water-way opened out into a great basin, and there, on the further side of the basin, they saw green slopes running down to the water’s edge, strewn with white stock-fish set to dry in the wind and sun, and above the slopes a large hall, and about it booths.  Moreover, they saw a long dragon of war at anchor near the shore.  For a while they rowed on, easing now and again.  Then Eric spoke to Skallagrim.

“What thinkest thou of yonder ship, Lambstail?”

“I think this, lord:  that she is fashioned wondrous like to the Gudruda.”

“That is in my mind also,” said Eric, “and our fortune is good if it is she.”

They rowed on again, and presently a ray from the sun came over the hills—­for now it was three hours past midnight—­and, the ship having swung a little with the tide, lit upon her prow, and lo! there gleamed the golden dragon of the Gudruda.

“This is a strange thing,” said Eric.

“Ay, lord, a strange and a merry, for now I shall talk with Hall the mate,” and the Baresark smiled grimly.

“Thou shalt do no hurt to Hall,” said Eric.  “I am lord here, and I must judge.”

“Thy will is my will,” said Skallagrim; “but if my will were thine, he would hang on the mast till sea-birds nested amidst his bones.”