t when Grim had it raised aloft to stab Grettir, the
supposed sleeping man sprang up, knocked Grim down, wrenched the sword
out of his hand and killed him. Next, Grettir's enemy Thorir of Garth
heard of his whereabouts, and prevailed upon one Thorir Redbeard to
attempt to slay him. So Redbeard laid his plans, with the object, as
it is quaintly phrased, of 'winning' Grettir. He, however, declined to
be 'won,' for Redbeard fared no better than Grim. He tried to slay the
outlaw while he was swimming back from his nets, but Grettir sank like
a stone and swam along the bottom till he reached a place where he
could land unseen by Redbeard. He then came on him from behind, while
Redbeard was still looking for his appearance out of the water; heaved
him over his head, and caused him to fall so heavily that his weapon
fell out of his hand. Grettir seized it and smote off his head.

Thorir of Garth was anything but satisfied with the result of his
endeavour to have Grettir killed, and gathered together a force of
nearly eighty men to take him; but this time Grettir was forewarned by
a friend, and took up a position in a very narrow pass. When Thorir's
men came up and attacked him he slew them one by one till he had
killed eighteen and wounded many more, so that Thorir said, 'Lo, now
we have to do with trolls and not men,' and bade the rest retire.
Shortly afterwards he collected some twenty men and rode off again to
search for Grettir. This time he was within an ace of coming upon the
outlaw unawares; but Grettir and a friend had just time to conceal
themselves when Thorir rode by. After the party had passed, an idea
occurred to Grettir. 'They will not deem their journey good if we be
not found,' he said; so, though much against the advice of his friend,
he disguised himself in a slouch hat and other clothes, took a staff
and intercepted Thorir's band at a point where he knew they must pass.
They asked him whether he had seen any men riding over the heath.
'Yes,' he said, 'the men you seek I have seen, and you have missed
them only by a very little; they are there on the south side of these
bogs to the left.' On hearing this, off galloped Thorir and his men,
but the bogs were a sort of quagmire, wherein the horses stuck fast;
and remained wallowing and struggling for the greater part of the day,
while the riders 'gave to the devil withal the wandering churl who had
so befooled them.'

Grettir now deemed it advisable to go about