"A hundred miles through Eid's old wood,
And devil an alehouse, bad or good,—
A hundred miles, and tree and sky
Were all that met the weary eye.
With many a grumble, many a groan.
A hundred miles we trudged right on;
And every king's man of us bore
On each foot-sole a bleeding sore."
They came then through Gautland, and in the evening reached a farm-house called Hof. The door was bolted so that they could not come in; and the servants told them it was a fast-day, and they could not get admittance. Sigvat sang:—
"Now up to Hof in haste I hie,
And round the house and yard I pry.
Doors are fast locked—but yet within,
Methinks, I hear some stir and din.
I peep, with nose close to the ground.
Below the door, but small cheer found.
My trouble with few words was paid—
"'Tis holy time,' the house-folkd said.
Heathens! to shove me thus away!
I' the foul fiend's claws may you all lay."
Then they came to another farm, where the good-wife was standing at the door, and told them not to come in, for they were busy with a sacrifice to the elves. Sigvat sang of it thus:—
"'My poor lad, enter not, I pray!'
Thus to me did the old wife say;
'For all of us are heathens here,
And I for Odin's wrath do fear.'
The ugly witch drove me away,
Like scared wolf sneaking from his prey.
When she told me that there within
Was sacrifice to foul Odin."
Another evening, they came to three bondes, all of them of the name of Olver, who drove them away. Sigvat sang:—
"Three of one name,
To their great shame,
The traveller late
Drove from their gate!
Travellers may come
From our viking-home,
Unbidden guests
At these Olvers' feasts."
They went on farther that evening, and came to a fourth bonde, who was considered the most hospitable man in the country; but he drove them away also. Then Sigvat sang:—
"Then on I went to seek night's rest
From one who was said to be the best,
The kindest host in the land around,
And there I hoped to have quarters found.
But, faith,'twas little use to try;
For not so much as raise an eye
Would this huge wielder of the spade:
If he's the hest, it must be said
Bad is the best, and the skald's praise
Cannot be given to churls like these.
I almost wished that Asta's son
In the Eid forest had been one
When we, his men, were even put
Lodging to crave in a heathen's hut.
I knew not where the earl to find;
Four times driven off by men unkind,
I wandered now the whole night o'er,
Driven like a dog from door to door."
Now when they came to Earl Ragnvald's the earl said they must have had a severe journey. Then Sigvat sang:—