“Greed is many a man’s bane,” said Eric, “and it was nearly thine and mine, Skallagrim.”
“I had no heart to leave the good gear,” he answered; “and thou seest, lord, it is safe and we with it.”
Then they got the boat’s head round slowly into the mouth of the fjord, pausing now and again to rest, for their strength was spent. For two hours they rowed down a gulf, as it were, and on either side of them were barren hills. At length the water-way opened out into a great basin, and there, on the further side of the basin, they saw green slopes running down to the water’s edge, strewn with white stock-fish set to dry in the wind and sun, and above the slopes a large hall, and about it booths. Moreover, they saw a long dragon of war at anchor near the shore. For a while they rowed on, easing now and again. Then Eric spoke to Skallagrim.
“What thinkest thou of yonder ship, Lambstail?”
“I think this, lord: that she is fashioned wondrous like to the Gudruda.”
“That is in my mind also,” said Eric, “and our fortune is good if it is she.”
They rowed on again, and presently a ray from the sun came over the hills—for now it was three hours past midnight—and, the ship having swung a little with the tide, lit upon her prow, and lo! there gleamed the golden dragon of the Gudruda.
“This is a strange thing,” said Eric.
“Ay, lord, a strange and a merry, for now I shall talk with Hall the mate,” and the Baresark smiled grimly.
“Thou shalt do no hurt to Hall,” said Eric. “I am lord here, and I must judge.”