Isaac scratched his head again. "Na, na!" said he.
And with that he had to be content and go home.
But Isaac had neither rest nor repose, there lay such a grievous load upon him.
In the night time he again saw the big white halibut. It was going round and round so slowly and sadly in the selfsame circle at the bottom of the sea. It was just as if some invisible sort of netting was all round it, and the whole time it was striving to slip through the meshes.
Isaac lay there, and gazed and gazed till his blind eye ached again.
No sooner was he out dredging next day, and had let down the ropes, than an ugly heavy squid came up, and spouted up a black jet right in front of him.
But one evening he let the boat drive, as the current chose to take it, outside the skerries, but within the islands. At last it stopped at a certain spot, as if it were moored fast, and there it grew wondrously still; there was not a bird in the air or a sign of life in the sea.
All at once up came a big bubble right in front of the jib, and as it burst he heard a deep heavy sigh.
But Isaac had his own opinion about what he had seen.
"And the parson of Brönö shall see to the funeral too, or I'll know the reason why," said he.