Then they rode into the Dale, and had a hearty welcome; there
Kettle of the Mark met them, and there they sate two nights.
Both Runolf and Kettle besought Thrain that he would make up his quarrel with Njal's sons; but he said he would never pay any money, and answered crossly, for he said he thought himself quite a match for Njal's sons wherever they met.
"So it may be," says Runolf; "but so far as I can see, no man has been their match since Gunnar of Lithend died and it is likelier that ye will both drag one another down to death."
Thrain said that was not to be dreaded.
Then Thrain fared up into the Mark, and was there two nights more; after that he rode down into the Dale, and was sent away from both houses with fitting gifts.
Now the Markfleet was then flowing between sheets of ice on both sides, and there were tongues of ice bridging it across every here and there.
Thrain said that he meant to ride home that evening, but Runolf said that he ought not to ride home; he said, too, that it would be more wary not to fare back as he had said he would before he left home.
"That is fear, and I will none of it," answers Thrain.
Now those gangrel women whom they had put across the Fleet came to Bergthorsknoll, and Bergthora asked whence they came, but they answered, "Away east under Eyjafell."
"Then, who put you across Markfleet?" said Bergthora.