,
and said that he did unwisely, and would hinder him from his journey.
But all this availed nothing, and aboard ship he went.

At the outset they met with foul winds, so that they shipped great seas,
and the yard broke. Then Cormac sang:--

(56)
"I take it not ill, like the Tinker
If a trickster had foundered his muck-sled;
For he loves not rough travelling, the losel,
And loath would he be of this uproar.
I flinch not,--nay, hear it, ye fearless
Who flee not when arrows are raining,--
Though the steeds of the ocean be storm-bound
And stayed in the harbour of Solund."

So they pushed out to sea, and hard weather they tholed. Once on a time
when the waves broke over the deck and drenched them all, Cormac made
this song:--

(57)
"O the Tinker's a lout and a lubber,
And the life of a sailor he dares not,
When the snow-crested surges caress us
And sweep us away with their kisses,
He bides in a berth that is warmer,
Embraced in the arms of his lady;
And lightly she lulls him to slumber,
--But long she has reft me of rest!"

They had a very rough voyage, but landed at last in Midfiord, and
anchored off shore. Looking landward they beheld where a lady was riding
by; and Cormac knew at once that it was Steingerd. He bade his men
launch a boat, and rowed ashore. He went quickly from the boat, and got
a horse, and rode to meet her. When they met, he leapt from horseback
and helped her to alight, making a seat for her beside him on the
ground.

Their horses wandered away: the day passed on, and it began to grow
dark. At last Steingerd said, "It is time to look for our horses."

Little search would be needed, said Cormac; but when he looked about,
they were nowhere in sight. As it happened, they were hidden in a gill
not far from where the two were sitting.

So, as night was hard at hand, they set out to walk, and came to a
little farm, where they were taken in and treated well, even as they
needed. That night they slept each on either side of the carven wainscot
that parted bed from bed: and Cormac made this song:--

(58)
"We rest, O my beauty, my brightest,
But a barrier lies ever between us.
So fierce are the fates and so mighty
--I feel it--that rule to their rede.
Ah, nearer I would be, and nigher,
Till nought should be left to dispart us,