oes, which would carry him through everything, and said
she would steal for him the bone-stick from the Gan-Finn, so that he
might find all the old lucky dollars that ever were buried, and would
teach him how to make salmon-catching knots in the fishing lines, and
how to entice the reindeer from afar. He should become as rich as the
Gan-Finn, if only he wouldn't forsake her.

But Jack had only eyes for the boat down there. Then she sprang up, and
tore down her black locks, and bound them round his feet, so that he had
to wrench them off before he could get quit of her.

"If I stay here and play with you and the young reindeer, many a poor
fellow will have to cling with broken nails to the keel of a boat,"[9]
said he. "If you like to make it up, give me a kiss and a parting hug,
or shall I go without them?"

Then she threw herself into his arms like a young wild cat, and looked
straight into his eyes through her tears, and shivered and laughed, and
was quite beside herself.

But when she saw she could do nothing with him, she rushed away, and
waved her hands above her head in the direction of the Gamme.[10]

Then Jack understood that she was going to take counsel of the Gan-Finn,
and that he had better take refuge in his boat before the way was closed
to him. And, in fact, the boat had come so close up to the boulders,
that he had only to step down upon the thwarts. The rudder glided into
his hand, and aslant behind the mast sat some one at the prow, and
hoisted and stretched the sail: but his face Jack could not see.

Away they went.

And such a boat for running before the wind Jack had never seen before.
The sea stood up round about them like a deep snow-drift, although it
was almost calm. But they hadn't gone very far before a nasty piping
began in the air. The birds shrieked and made for land, and the sea rose
like a black wall behind them.

It was the Gan-Finn who had opened his wind-sack, and sent a storm after
them.

"One needs a full sail in the Finn-cauldron here," said something from
behind the mast.

The fellow who had the boat in hand took such little heed of the weather
that he did not so much as take in a single clew.

Then the Gan-Finn sent double knots[11] after them.

They sped along in a wild dance right over the firth, and the sea
whirled up in white columns of foam, reaching to the very clouds.

Unless the boat could fly as quick and quicker than a bird, it was lost.

Then a hideous l