Now they had almost won the ford and Feargus put an arrow to his bow, and as the first man entered the water to cross he raised to his knee and sent the arrow forth. In the act he felt his wound and it angered him; the man fell back into the water with the arrow sticking in him a foot deep, and neither shout nor groan gave he, for Feargus was a merciful death-dealer. The captain, seeing his man swept away in the flood, cried “On.” Then Feargus, that he might know who was before him, stood upright; but the captain knew well, forsooth, and halted them before they touched the water, to shoot their arrows. Feargus lay down in the heather to avoid them, but they having the water before them were without shelter, so again he drew his bow, and another leapt forward and fell headlong into the stream, to be quickly followed by a third. There only remained the Pict and the captain, who turned to flee. Then Feargus shouted out, “Now, sir captain, an ye turn, ye shall die, ere ye have fled fifty paces, an ye stand ye shall fight hand to hand with me, for where odds are equal I will take no vantage of bow or arrow, though I be without byrny. I have left thee till the last for thou didst in cowardly wise strike me when wounded, and I would that thou shouldst see the ruin of thy men and thyself.” Then Feargus moved forward, and the captain turned to the Pict, saying, “Why standest thou and slay him not?”
“Nay, sir captain, I have wrought much evil since thou didst take me and force me to join thy band, but never did I yet take hand with a stranger like thee against mine own kin. A king’s son at least is this, and though I will take no part against thee neither will I help thee; ye are man to man and thine enemy is without byrny, so ye may fight it out.” Then he held out his sword to Feargus, who straightway gave it back again, saying, “Nay, keep it, kinsman.”
Then the captain, seeing there was nothing left but to fight, drew, and Feargus drew also his sword, but it was not his own blade; fiercely they fell to and the robber wrought with great might till Feargus drew back a pace and dealt a great blow, and the blade shore the robber’s helm clean through the side, leaving the head unharmed, but breaking itself nigh to the hilt, and the robber staggered from left to right as one drunk. Then Feargus was without arms, but, keeping still the broken hilt of the sword in his hand, he dashed at his antagonist, striking him full in the face; then wresting the sword from his hand, flung it across the burn and, lifting the robber, gripped him so hard that he cried out; then, running a few paces, hurled him into the flood nigh to where it took a mighty leap of many feet amid jagged rocks: and so no creature save the raven saw him thereafter. Feargus turned back to where the Pict stood awe-stricken at so fierce a fight, and he took his bow and bade him lead to the cave. Lightly he obeyed, and they entered, and there Feargus found his byrny and his great sword of wondrous temper and all that he had lost. Then the Pict told him they must get away lest the rest of the band should return from the neighbouring dales and find their captain slain. “And I will take what will serve me and fly, for they will not believe my story, and I will away into Galloway privily and find my kin and then will I come north to serve thee all my days, for the greatest of warriors art thou. Thou wilt find difficulty enough in fending for thyself and thy young friend else would I join thee.”
So the Pict went one way and Feargus went another, and stripping off the skins with which he was clad he sprang into the stream and swam about, for his wound’s sake. Then being refreshed, he gained the land and dressed him and donned his byrny, over it casting the skins to hide the brightness of it and called his horse, which arose quickly and followed him. When Torfrida saw that he had his sword again and his byrny she was rejoiced greatly. So they rode on across the moor and they could see nothing save heather and whin and bracken, with clumps of trees far apart, and patches of bog covered with long grass, and the wild myrtle that sent forth a sweet smell, and in the distance hills and glens innumerable. So they journeyed for many days. But ever the nights drew out and the days drew in, and Feargus had much ado to find food or a dry spot to cast their tent in, and the cold strengthened and much rain fell and sometimes hail and snow. And they were often forced to spend whole days in resting and waiting for the storms to abate. And sometimes they lost their road among the fells. They stayed now on the bare hill side where nothing but the cry of the paitrick or the plover was to be heard the year through; now in wild glens; by crag and loch and burn ever northward wending. Soon they found the winter sore upon them, and the snow lay thick and covered all the land, and the horses had nothing wherewith to satisfy their hunger. In the darkness came wild beasts, and they had to build a great fire each night around them to scare the creatures. And whiles they drew right up to it scenting the horses and then drew back, and at length so bold they grew that one night two giant wolves leapt across the flames nigh to where Feargus sat, sword in hand, but hardly had they reached the earth ere he plunged his sword down the open jaws of one and kicked the other backwards into the fire with his foot. And the snow became so deep that Feargus built a snow house each night for Torfrida, and himself stood by the watch-fire outside. And so they sped, the hazel nut and red deer their food, or whatever his bow could bring down; and from all dangers he shielded her, or labour or weariness or cold, so far as he might in so terrible a clime. But often his heart failed him and he felt that death lay before them. At length the horses waxed weak for lack of food, and he cut the meat from the beasts he slew for them, but he saw that an he could not soon win a clachan or farmstead they must die.
The feet of Feargus sank deep in the snow at every step, and made him weary, but he fared on.
Their way still lay among the mountains and little food could they there find, so one evening Feargus started out in quest thereof and his feet sank deep in the snow at every step and made him weary, but he fared on. At last he turned, thinking to travel back by his footprints, but of a sudden the sky had grown overcast, and a gust of wind soughed up the glen and in a moment it was as though a mist had fallen upon him, for he could see neither behind nor before, nor sky nor land, so small and close fell the snow. On he stumbled trying now to guess the way back and crying out at intervals, “Torfrida! Torfrida!” Then he stooped down to seek the footprints, but found that all were filled with the driving snow; still he went on hour after hour and like to drop for weariness, and ever and anon crying “Torfrida!”
And Torfrida lay awaiting him in her house builded of snow on the top of a steep hill; for they feared to stay in the glens at that time lest the snow-drifts should bury them. As the darkness closed in she set a light to her fire. Then, of a sudden, the storm burst upon them and had it not been that their place of halting was cunningly chosen in a spot sheltered from the winds common in that quarter, her fire would have been quenched altogether. The darkness thickened and fear fell upon her for her lover, and she stood in the doorway watching over the plain below. It might be about midnight when far away across the fells in front of her she thought she heard the cry “Torfrida!” She fancied it foreboded his death, and wished herself dead, for their troubles seemed like to overwhelm them. All night the tempest raged, and all the day following, and still she fed the fire, till her heap of faggots grew low, for she knew that it would be his only guide, if guide he longer needed. On the night of the second day she again thought she heard that weird cry “Torfrida!” and arose and shrieked “Feargus! Feargus!” Then she fancied she saw a great white form staggering about far down on the moor beneath, till at length it fell or seemed to, then slowly and with little life arose once more; then she tried to go out to it, but was too weak and full of horror, for a creature of another world this might be and she swooned, and as she awoke suddenly a giant form rose up before her deep covered with snow frozen to it from beard to foot, and with one wild cry, “Torfrida!” it staggered forward and fell headlong at her feet, and she knew that he had come.