But the days went on, and one day the supply of drinking water ran out. During the night following the day when the last scoop of water had been equally divided among all on board, Ingolf did not sleep. And he could easily see that Hallveig lay awake by his side. But they did not talk. Ingolf was more and more convinced that the gods had for ever withdrawn their favour from him. Perhaps it was their intention to let him miserably perish here at sea. Would they not even grant him to die on land? Could they not even spare a place for a funeral mound for him and his? Ingolf reproached himself severely that he had involved Hallveig in his own and his race's ill-luck.
Towards morning they began at last to talk together in a whisper. Ingolf opened his whole mind to Hallveig, and confided to her his most secret thoughts and anxieties. Hallveig said that she had married him because she intended to share his fortunes whether they were good or bad. She feared neither life, nor death, nor the displeasure of the gods, if only she had him.
While they were still lying there and whispering together, Leif stood suddenly in the doorway and shouted. He had kept watch during the night, and had good news to tell. The fog was gone and the wind was gradually rising. He had given orders to hoist the sail, and now only wished to ask whither they should sail, for he did not know. The sky was overclouded all the time, and the sun could not be seen. Would Ingolf come and see if he, perhaps, could scent out the right direction?
Ingolf was on his legs in an instant. All anxiety and trouble was blown away from his soul by the first puff of wind. He took counsel with his deepest instincts, and found a direction to sail in. The wind was rather slack at first, but then it had got out of the habit of blowing. In the course of the day it freshened to splendid sailing weather. There were birds on the water; they must be near some land. Towards evening they caught a glimpse of a dark streak ahead, which showed distinctly against the fog-banks on the horizon. There rose a shout on board: "Land in sight!" Then Helga wept. No one was astonished at it. Some of the men also felt a flutter at their hearts this time on sighting land again. But Hallveig stood quiet and undisturbed, staring at the dark streak ahead. What sort of land was it? Were they already there? That night no one thought of seeking sleep or rest.
Early in the morning they were among some precipitous green islands which were divided by narrow straits with strong currents. From the vessel they could here and there catch sight of smoke from houses and huts. This, then, was an inhabited land, and not the one they sought. One of the old men on board had been here before, and was able to inform them that these were the Faroe Isles. That reassured Ingolf; it meant they had not come out of their course. There was great joy on board. Here they could go on shore, feel firm ground under their feet, and provide themselves with water. There were some among the crew who ventured to hint that the voyage had lasted long enough, but a look from Ingolf was enough to reduce them to silence. All depression and doubt had been swept out of his mind along with the fog.
The brothers now had all tubs, buckets, together with the empty barrels and casks which were on board, filled with water from a spring on the coast. When that had been seen to, they were so fortunate as to get good weather with a stiff breeze. It was again possible to sail by the sun and stars, straight to the west. They left the Faroe Isles astern and made for the open sea. The weather remained fine, with a light breeze blowing. The wind was certainly somewhat capricious both as regards force and direction. But it blew all the time, and that was what was needed. Only seldom could the vessel hold on a straight course; they were obliged to tack, and so the way became somewhat uncertain. Still they made progress.
On the seventh day after leaving the Faroes they at last sighted land. A large and wide-stretching land, crowned by white glaciers behind blue mountains, and land with broad, open fjords and bright streams which wound down green mountain-sides, rose from the sea before their wondering eyes.
This must be the land they sought. Here then it lay, solitary and uninhabited, far away in the uttermost part of the sea. It lay silent and patient, expecting them.
The land greeted them with sunshine and summer and blue mountains. Majestic it lay there, with skyward towering promontories and broad mouths of fjords which, like open arms, offered them a royal welcome. No other land had ever received them with such a festal and solemn greeting as this gave them.
A strange silence spread on board the vessel. It was early in the morning that they sailed into a fjord full of swans. The blue surface of the fjord was completely covered with these white birds, which, with proudly lifted necks and in great flocks, swam to one side as the ship glided on. Many other birds swam among them—variegated eider-ducks and handsome water-fowl. But one did not notice them because of the white swans. Hallveig named the fjord Svanefjord.