Skallagrim and his
great axe.

At length all were gathered; they were fifty in number and it is said
that no such band of men ever took ship from Iceland.

Now the great dragon was bound and her faring goods were aboard of her,
for Eric must sail on the morrow, if the wind should be fair. All day
long he stalked to and fro among his men; he would trust nothing to
others, and there was no sword or shield in his company but he himself
had proved it. All day long he stalked, and at his back went Skallagrim
Lambstail, axe on shoulder, for he would never leave Eric if he had his
will, and they were a mighty pair.

At length all was ready and men sat down to the faring-feast in the hall
at Middalhof, and that was a great feast. Eric's folk were gathered on
the side-benches, and by the high seat at Asmund's side sat Brighteyes,
and near to him where Bjoern, Asmund's son, Gudruda, Unna, Asmund's
betrothed, and Saevuna, Eric's mother. For this had been settled between
Asmund and Eric, that his mother Saevuna, who was some somewhat sunk in
age, should flit from Coldback and come with Unna to dwell at Middalhof.
But Eric set a trusty grieve to dwell at Coldback and mind the farm.

When the faring-toasts had been drunk, Eric spoke to Asmund and said: "I
fear one thing, lord, and it is that when I am gone Ospakar will trouble
thee. Now, I pray you all to beware of Blacktooth, for, though the hound
is whipped, he can still bite, and it seems that he has not yet put
Gudruda from his mind."

Now Bjoern had sat silently, thinking much and drinking more, for he
loved Eric less than ever on this day when he saw how all men did him
honour and mourned his going, and his father not the least of them.

"Methinks it is thou, Eric," he said, "whom Ospakar hates, and thee on
whom he would work his vengeance, and that for no light cause."

"When bad fortune sits in thy neighbour's house, she knocks upon thy
door, Bjoern. Gudruda, thy sister, is my betrothed, and thou art a party
to this feud," said Eric. "Therefore it becomes thee better to hold her
honour and thy own against this Northlander, than to gird at me for that
in which I have no blame."

Bjoern grew wroth at these words. "Prate not to me," he said. "Thou art
an upstart who wouldst teach their duty to thy betters--ay, puffed up
with light-won fame, like a feather on the breeze. But I say this: the
breeze shall fail, and thou shalt fall upon the goose's back once more.
And I say