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Updated: June 21, 2025
Many such strips lay piled in a dry place before spring came, and with it the time for joining them all together. It was a great day for the young folks of the vik when the contest was to be decided. Half-a-dozen longships of other jarls happened to be in port at the time and Jarl Sigurd was not sorry to let his visitors see what his young people could do.
The vessels drifted a little nearer, and the stranger hailed, "Art thou not Ulf, of Sigurd's Vik?" "Yea!" A flutter swept through the stranger-craft, and a pause. Its men flashed at each other startled looks. "Is it war?" the captain asked again, hoping his men would not note the little tremble in his voice. "War have I seen," was the curt reply, and there was a twang as a bow was strung.
The country was growing rich in cattle, and was better to live in than ever before, indeed quite like Sigurd's Vik in that respect, a state of things natural enough where a Sigurd ruled, but not at all where a Knut did, for Knut or Canute, as it is sometimes written, was this new king's name.
Great was the wonder throughout all the Northland, for fierce were the fighters who dwelt in Britain, and such a deed had never been done before. This was better than fighting off pirates in the mouth of a vik, thought Ulf. Moreover, the pirates had ceased to come.
Add a capital tenor voice, a lithe, active frame, and something irresistibly odd and droll in his motions, and you have his principal points. We walked across the birch-wooded isthmus behind Vik to the Eyfjordsvand, a lake about three miles long, which completely cuts off the further valley, the mountains on either side falling to it in sheer precipices 1000 feet high.
Thorgeir, the eldest brother, was managing the farm at Reykjarfjord, and often rowed out fishing, as the fjords were full of fish. The men of Vik now laid their plans. Flosi had a man in Arnes named Thorfinn, and sent him to fetch Thorgeir's head. This man hid himself in the boatshed.
Evidently he knew nothing of the sort, and Fred laughed as he glanced over the sheet of paper which had come out of his pocket with that other letter. "I don't believe you have the least idea how good a letter it is. My mother cried over it, and Isobel declared the writer ought to be crowned king of every 'vik' in Shetland." "Oh, come!" Yaspard exclaimed, blushing hotly at his own praises so sung.
Ye're afraid iv Rothscheeld, an' th' Impror iv Germany, an' th' Dook d'Orleans, Vik Bonaparte, an' Joe Chamberlain, an' Bill McKinley. Be hivins, I believe ye're even afraid iv Gin'ral Otis! Ye're afraid iv th' newspapers, ye're afraid iv Jools Guerin, ye're afraid iv a pote, even whin he is not ar-rmed with his pothry, an' ye're afraid iv each other. Brace up! be men!
"I could easily do it if necessary," remarked Joel. "But it will not be necessary, fortunately. Now suppose we go over our route again." "Well, once at Tinoset, Monsieur Sylvius, we for a time follow the shores of Lake Fol, passing through Vik and Bolkesko, so as to reach Mose, and afterward Kongsberg, Hangsund, and Drammen.
A man named Harald Biornson was the first to leap ashore. Olaf named the place Harald's vik, but it is in these days spelled Harwich. Olaf followed the banks of the river for many miles, pillaging some steads, and carrying off much treasure from a certain monastery. The monks and friars fought well against him, but were soon defeated, and their houses and barns were left in flames.
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