the brothers were grown up, Ogmund died; and Dalla kept house with
her sons. Thorgils worked the farm, under the eye of Midfiord-Skeggi.

CHAPTER THREE. How Cormac Fell In Love.

There was a man named Thorkel lived at Tunga (Tongue). He was a wedded
man, and had a daughter called Steingerd who was fostered in Gnupsdal
(Knipedale).

Now it was one autumn that a whale came ashore at Vatnsnes (Watsness),
and it belonged to the brothers, Dalla's sons. Thorgils asked Cormac
would he rather go shepherding on the fell, or work at the whale. He
chose to fare on the fell with the house-carles.

Tosti, the foreman, it was should be master of the sheep-gathering: so
he and Cormac went together until they came to Gnupsdal. It was night:
there was a great hall, and fires for men to sit at.

That evening Steingerd came out of her bower, and a maid with her. Said
the maid, "Steingerd mine, let us look at the guests."

"Nay," she said, "no need": and yet went to the door, and stepped on the
threshold, and spied across the gate. Now there was a space between the
wicker and the threshold, and her feet showed through. Cormac saw that,
and made this song:--

(1)
"At the door of my soul she is standing,
So sweet in the gleam of her garment:
Her footfall awakens a fury,
A fierceness of love that I knew not,
Those feet of a wench in her wimple,
Their weird is my sorrow and troubling,
--Or naught may my knowledge avail me--
Both now and for aye to endure."

Then Steingerd knew she was seen. She turned aside into a corner
where the likeness of Hagbard was carved on the wall, and peeped under
Hagbard's beard. Then the firelight shone upon her face.

"Cormac," said Tosti, "seest eyes out yonder by that head of Hagbard?"

Cormac answered in song:--

(2)
"There breaks on me, burning upon me,
A blaze from the cheeks of a maiden,
--I laugh not to look on the vision--
In the light of the hall by the doorway.
So sweet and so slender I deem her,
Though I spy bug a glimpse of an ankle
By the threshold:--and through me there flashes
A thrill that shall age never more."

And then he made another song:--

(3)
"The moon of her brow, it is beaming
'Neath the bright-litten heaven of her forehead:
So she gleams in her white robe, and gazes
With a glance that is keen as the f