"I suppose there is a ford somewhere," said Grettir.
"Yes," answered Steinvor, "there is a ford at this place; but I do not see how it is to be traversed."
"I will carry you across," said Grettir.
"Carry over the little maiden first," said the widow. "She is the lightest."
"I don't care about making two journeys when one will suffice," answered Grettir. "Come, jump up; I will carry you in my arms."
FORDING THE QUIVERING FLOOD.
The widow crossed herself, and said, "That will never do. How can you manage such a burden?"
But without more ado Grettir caught up Steinvor on his arm, and then he picked up the little girl and set her on her mother's lap, and strode into the water; they were on his left arm, but he kept the right free. They were so frightened that they durst not cry out. He waded on in the river, and the water foamed up to his breast; and then he saw a great ice-floe coming bearing down upon him. He put out his right hand, gave the mass of ice a thrust, and it was whirled past them by the current. Then he waded further, and the water washed about his shoulders, and that was the deepest point. After that the river shallowed, and he bore the mother and child safely to the shore and set them down.
Now Grettir turned to go back, and he took up a great stone and set it on his head, and so waded back. If he had tried to go through the water without a stone he would have been washed away; but the great stone on his head enabled him to stand firm and resist the current of the water. Those who have not been through an Icelandic river can hardly imagine the intensity of the cold. I have ridden through these rivers, my horse swimming under me, and when I reached the further side have thrown myself off and lain on the sand for a quarter of an hour before I could recover from the numbness caused by the deadly cold; for some of these rivers are as broad as the Thames at London Bridge, and the water is milky because full of undissolved snow.