"Is a Viking not different from a wolf, then, in your eyes?"

"By too little," she answered, "if they hold the same creed."

"A wolf, then, I am," he replied; "and I can but try to keep my
lips drawn over my fangs and bit on my hind legs, and practise
manliness as best I may."

"A very hungry manliness," she retorted. But despite herself she
smiled, and then lightly turned the talk to other things.

From day to day the quiet island life went on with few incidents
and pleasant monotony. With only one family was there any
intercourse, and that almost entirely on Osla's part. On the shore
of the great island to the west, which men called Hrossey, dwelt a
large farmer, named Margad, and from his household such supplies
as they needed were obtained. He was an honest, peaceable man, as
the times went, with a kindly wife, Gudrun by name, and they both
took a friendly interest in the hermit's daughter. Estein would
fain have lived in her society all day, listening to her talk and
watching the wind play with her hair, and every day he noticed,
with a sense of growing disappointment, that he saw her more
seldom. Sometimes they would have long talks, and then, abruptly
as it seemed to him, she would have to leave him, and he would
spend his time in fishing from a boat, or would cross with her to
Hrossey, and while she went to see Dame Gudrun he pursued the roe-
deer and moor-fowl.

With bow and arrow, and by dint of long and arduous stalks, he