I can run on snow-shoes;
I shoot and I row well enough.”
(Fornmanna Sögur, vi. 169.)
“The king asked: ‘Art thou a man of idróttir?’ Heming answered: ‘My foster-father and foster-mother thought that I knew many things well, but I have not shown my skill to others, and I think you will find it slight. One idrótt I think I can perform for you.’ ‘Which?’ asked the king; ‘I do not care with whom I try running on snow-shoes, for nobody can surpass me in that.’ The king added: ‘We will see thy skill, and know what it is worth.’ Heming replied: ‘I shall try to perform what you have had performed first.’ ‘Let us go out,’ said the king, ‘and strive against each other.’ Aslak went to him and said: ‘I have prepared ships for your departure if you please, because I think it is best to have no games.’ But the king said: ‘We will stay here to-day;’ and all went out. The island was very woody, and they went to the forest.
“The king took a spear, and put its point into the ground; then he placed an arrow on the string and shot into the air; the arrow turned itself in its course, came down with its point into the end of the spear-shaft, and stood there upright. Heming took an arrow and shot, it went very high, then the arrow point came down into the shaft of the first arrow. The king took the spear and threw it; he shot so powerfully and so far, and nevertheless straight, that all wondered. Heming threw further than all, so that his spear socket lay on the point of the king’s spear. The king took the spear and shot another time, and the whole spear beyond Heming’s. ‘I will not throw any more, for I see it is useless.’ ‘Throw,’ said the king, ‘and further if thou canst.’ Heming shot, and far ahead.
“The king placed an arrow on the string, and took a knife and stuck it into an oak. He shot into the back of the knife-handle so that the arrow stuck fast. Heming took his arrows. The king stood near him and said: ‘With gold are thy arrows wound round, and a very ambitious man art thou.’ ‘I did not cause these arrows to be made; they were given to me, and I have not taken any ornaments off them.’ Heming shot and hit the knife-handle, and split it; the arrow point stuck in the upper point of the blade. Then the king said: ‘Now we will shoot further.’ With an angry look he laid an arrow on the string, and drew the bow so as to bend its tips together. The arrow flew very far, and stopped in a very slender bough. All thought this a most excellent shot. Heming shot somewhat farther, and the arrow went through a nut. All present wondered at this. The king said: ‘Now the nut shall be taken, and placed on the head of thy brother Björn, and there thou shalt hit it. Thou shalt not shoot from a shorter distance than before, and, if thou dost not hit, thou hast forfeited thy life.’ ‘Thou canst decide over my life, but I will never shoot this shot.’ Björn answered: ‘Thou must shoot rather than choose death, for every man is bidden to prolong his life while he may.’ ‘Wilt thou stand still, and not shrink, if I shoot at the nut?’ ‘Certainly,’ said Björn. ‘Then the king shall stand at his side,’ replied Heming, ‘and see if I hit the nut.’ The king agreed to stand at his side. He called Odd Ofeiggson, who went to where Björn stood, and said it was a fit trial for him to keep his courage there. Then Heming went to where the king would have him stand, and made the sign of the cross. ‘I call God to witness that I make the king responsible for this, and that I do not want to harm my brother.’ Heming shot; the arrow went swiftly, and skipped over the crown of his head and under the nut, and Björn was not wounded. The nut rolled backwards down from his head, but the arrow went much farther. When the king asked if the shot had hit the nut, Odd replied: ‘Better than hit, for he shot under the nut and it rolled down, and he harmed not Björn.’ ‘It does not seem to me that he has shot as I ordered,’ added the king. They slept over night.
“In the morning Aslak went to speak with the king, and told him he had again prepared his journey if he wanted to go to the mainland, but he determined to stay that day. When the drinking hour was over, he called his men, and they went down to the shore. The king said to Halldór Snorrason (an Icelander): ‘I entrust it to thee to kill Heming while swimming to-day.’ Halldór answered: ‘It would be difficult for abler men than I am.’ Then the king told Bödvar Eldjarnsson to do it. He replied: ‘Though I had all the idróttir of those here present, I would not harm him in anything, but least of all as I know that he surpasses me in everything.’
“The king bade Nikulas Thorbergsson to tire out Heming in swimming. Nikulas was doubtful of success, but consented to try. The king told them both to swim. Heming said: ‘Now I need not spare myself, as I should have liked best to contend with him if I did with anybody.’ They undressed, and began swimming. Nikulas asked if they should try a long swimming match. ‘We may try that as thou hast had the better of it in the other’ (modes of swimming). When they had been swimming for a long time, Nikulas seemed anxious to go back, but Heming said: ‘I guess you the king’s bellies will stop farther from the shore.’ Heming kept on. Nikulas swam somewhat slower, and asked shortly after: ‘Art thou going to swim longer?’ Heming said: ‘I thought thou wouldst be able to swim alone ashore, and I will swim farther.’ ‘That is good, I will risk going back,’ said Nikulas, and turned, but had not gone far before he became faint. At last Heming swam to him and asked how it went with him. He told him it did not concern him, and he might go his way. Heming answered: ‘I think thou deservest that I do so, but we will nevertheless now go both together.’ ‘I will not refuse that,’ said Nikulas. ‘Lay thy hand on my back and thus support thyself;’ and in this way they came to land. Nikulas walked up, and had become quite stiff, but Heming sat down upon a stone at the flood-mark. The king asked Nikulas the result of the swimming. Nikulas replied: ‘I should not be able to tell any tidings on land if Heming had not been a better man to me than thou art to him.’ ‘Now thou, Halldór, shalt kill Heming,’ said the king. ‘That I will not do,’ answered Halldór, ‘it seems to me that the man who tried the swimming before has won little.’ The king threw off his clothes. Aslak went to Heming, and cried: ‘Save thyself; the king wants thy death, and there is a short way to the wood.’ Heming said: ‘Face to face the eagles shall fight with their claws, and he shall not be drowned whom God will exalt; he may go into the water as soon as he likes.’ Heming rose from the stone, and the king from another place, and as soon as they met the king swam to him and thrust him down into the deep. Others did not see their doings, but the sea became very restless above them. As it drew towards evening, and when it was almost dark, the sea became quiet and the king swam ashore. He looked so angry that no man dared to speak to him. Dry clothes were brought to him; no one saw Heming, and all thought him dead, but none dared to ask. The king went home with his men, but there was little merriment over the beer. The king was overcome with anger, and Aslak with sorrow. Lights were kindled in the hall, and the king was in his seat, when Heming entered and placed on the king’s knees the knife which he had worn on his belt. Everybody knew that he had taken the knife from the king.
“Again in the morning Aslak said to the king: ‘We have prepared your journey if you intend to go.’ The king replied: ‘Now I will not stay, but Heming shall follow us to the mainland.’ They made ready and departed.
“They landed at a large mountain, very steep towards the sea, and there was a path along the mountain-side on which only one man at the time could walk. There were precipices beneath and a high mountain above, and the ledges on the mountain-side were only wide enough for one man on horseback. The king ordered him to amuse them by running on snowshoes, Heming said: ‘It is now not suitable to run on snowshoes, for there is no snow, but only ice, and the mountain is very hard.’ The king replied: ‘There would be no danger if all was in the best condition.’ ‘As you will,’ said Heming, and took his snowshoes and ran about the mountain-side, up and down, and all said they had never seen any one run so nimbly....” (Flateyjarbók, iii.).