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Updated: June 9, 2025
The leather had rotted, and it came away in my hand. Holding it, I clambered over the stone after Freydisa, and followed her down the passage. Before we reached the end of it the lamps went out, so that we must finish our journey in the dark. Thankful enough were both of us when we found ourselves safe in the open air beneath the familiar stars.
I seized the precious thing and tugged at it, but the chain was stout and would not part. Again I tugged, and now it was the neck of the Wanderer that broke, for the head rolled from the body, and the gold chain came loose between the two. "Let us be going," said Freydisa, as I hid away the necklace.
Then I crept into the hole, Freydisa following me, to find myself in a narrow passage built of rough stones and roofed with flat slabs of water-worn rock. This tunnel, save for a little dry soil that had sifted into it through the cracks between the stones, was quite clear.
Who would dare to touch the holy thing and bring on him the curse of the Wanderer and his gods, and with it his own death? No man that ever sailed the seas, I think." "Not so, Freydisa, for I am sure I know one who would dare it for my sake. Olaf, if you love me, bring me that necklace as a marriage gift. I tell you that, having once seen it, I want it more than anything in all the world."
Then she glanced at the gods, laughed a little at their fashion and raiment, and again fell to fingering the necklace, which was more to her than any gods. Afterwards Freydisa asked me what was the dream of which I had spoken, and I told it to her, every word. "It is a strange story," said Freydisa. "What do you make of it, Olaf?" "Nothing save that it was a dream.
Am I not one of Odin's virgins, who know something of the mysteries? Yonder in his temple mayhap he will speak through me, if you dare to listen." "Aye, I dare. I should like to hear the god speak, true words or false." "Then come and hear them, Olaf." So we went up to the temple, and Freydisa, who had the right of entry, unlocked its door.
For three days I lay like one dead; indeed, all save my mother held Freydisa wrong and thought that I was dead. But on the fourth day I opened my eyes and took food, and after that fell into a natural sleep. On the morning of the sixth day I sat up and spoke many wild and wandering words, so that they believed I should only live as a madman. "His mind is gone," said my mother, and wept.
"First the cure," she said, thrusting it away with her foot. "Moreover, when I work for love I take no pay." Then they washed me, and, having dressed my hurts, laid me on a bed near the fire that warmth might come back to me. But Freydisa would not suffer them to give me anything save a little hot milk which she poured down my throat.
Scrattels, Skretles, often figure in the Norse tales as hopping dwarfs, half magical . The Norse discoverers of America recognized the Skraellings in the Esquimaux, and fled from them in panic terror; till that furious virago Freydisa, Thorvard's wife, and Eirek the Red's daughter, caught up a dead man's sword, and put to flight, single-handed, the legion of little imps.
"Is it just because you love to croak like a raven on a rock, or for some good reason?" "I don't know, Olaf," she answered. "I say things because they come to me, and I must, that is all. I tell you that evil will be born of this bear hunt of yours, and you had better stop at home." "To be laughed at by my brethren, Freydisa? Moreover, you are foolish, for if evil is to be, how can I avoid it?
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