Since there had been such a changing about of boats over all Nordland, and there was no more sale for his fair winds, he was quite ruined, he complained. He was now so poor that he would very soon have to go about and beg his bread. And of all his reindeer he had only a single doe left, who went about there by the house.
Then Seimke crept behind Jack, and whispered to him to bid for this doe. Then she put the reindeer-skin around her, and stood inside the Gamme door in the smoke, so that the Gan-Finn only saw the grey skin, and fancied it was the reindeer they were bringing in.
Then Jack laid his hand upon Seimke's neck, and began to bid.
The pointed cap ducked and nodded, and the Finn spat in the warm air; but sell his reindeer he would not.
Jack raised his price.
But the Finn heaved up the ashes all about him, and threatened and shrieked. The flies came as thick as snow-flakes; the Finn's furry wrappings were alive with them.
Jack bid and bid till it reached a whole bushel load of silver, and the Finn was ready to jump out of his skins.
Then he stuck his head under his furs again, and mumbled and jöjked till the amount rose to seven bushels of silver.
Then the Gan-Finn laughed till he nearly split. He thought the reindeer would cost the purchaser a pretty penny.
But Jack lifted Seimke up, and sprang down with her to his boat, and held the reindeer-skin behind him, against the Gan-Finn.