Here was it rough round the mast
When the sea fell on the ship;
I with eight men
Had to work on board;
Easier was it to carry
A meal to women in their room (dyngja)
Than to bale Ellidi
On the high wave.
“Fridthjof said with laughter: ‘Thou callest not thy help less than it is, though thy thrall-kin did appear now as thou didst wish to carry food.’ Then the wind grew stronger again, so that the white sea-drifts[[146]] which burst on the ship from all sides were more like mountains and mountain-peaks than waves.
“Björn: ‘Now thou art afraid, foster-brother, and there is fear in thy words; it is bad of a good warrior like thee.’ Fridthjof answered: ‘It is neither fear nor fright, though our journeys of merriment are sung, but it may be they are mentioned oftener than is needed; most men would think death likelier than life if they were situated as we are now.’