Sølvi. Was he? And I was thinking of asking you to visit me at Hol some time before I leave.
Ljot. I hardly think I dare to.
Sølvi. You could take Einar with you. It is not much more than an hour's ride, and I have a number of things I should like to show you,—petrified tree-trunks that I have dug out of the earth, in which you can see plainly every bud and shoot, and stone slabs with impressions of flowers and leaves that lived thousands of years ago. Should you like to see them?
Ljot. I should like it ever so much.
Sølvi. I have some rocks, too, baked by fire and furrowed by ice. If you knew all the tales they tell me! They lay bare to me things that are hidden from every one else.
(A whirring of wings is heard far away.)
Einar (stands up, pointing with his finger). Look, there is a flock of ducks flying over the hraun. (Stands gazing.)
Sølvi (in a low voice). It made me so happy to see you. This evening, when the sun was setting, I reached out toward it. I did the same when I saw you.
Einar. They're flying unusually low. There they alight—I'll get my gun.
Sølvi (rising). I'll lend you mine. (Hands him the gun.) It will carry a distance of a hundred and thirty feet.