en his brothers, and with them Mord,
Valgard's son, came up to kill him. Skarphedinn, Njal's son, was their
leader, and had bidden the rest each to give Hauskuld a wound. But the
first blow dealt by Skarphedinn brought him on his knees, and he died
praying that they might be forgiven for the ill they had brought on him,
guiltless.

When he was dead they went home and told Njal what they had done.

'It had been well if two of you had died and Hauskuld had lived,' said
Njal after he had heard the tidings, 'for I know better than you what
will be the end of this.'

'And what will be the end?' asked Skarphedinn.

'My death, and yours, and your mother's,' answered Njal.

'Shall I die also?' he asked; but Njal shook his head.

'Good fortune will ever be with you!' he answered, and turned away and
wept.

* * * * *

Now all men knew that at the next Thing a suit would be brought for the
slaying of Hauskuld, and Njal and his sons made ready to fare to it, and
to hear the award which should be given. But first sundry of Njal's
friends came to see him and offered to stand by him, and to set up their
tents beside his, and among them were Gizur the white and Asgrim. And at
the Thing an award was made, but was made void by a quarrel between
Flosi, the friend of Hauskuld the slain, and Skarphedinn, and Njal and
his sons returned home, and Njal's heart was heavy.

'Are you riding back to your wife?' asked he of Kari, his son-in-law;
and Kari made answer, 'Whatever happens to you, happens to me!' and they
all stayed at Bergthorasknoll.

* * * * *

In the house dwelt an old, old woman, so old that she had nursed
Bergthora, Njal's wife, and she was wise and could see into the future.
Njal's sons laughed at her warnings, and took no heed to them, but for
all that they knew well that it was often the truth she told them. One
day Skarphedinn was standing outside the door, and the old woman came
out with a stick in her hand, and she passed silently by him, and
walked up the path to where a pile of dried shrubs lay above the house.

'May a curse be upon you!' she cried, shaking her stick over it; and
Skarphedinn, who had followed after her, asked wherefore she was wroth
with the pile.

'Because with the fire lighted from this pile there will be a great
burning,' said she. 'And Njal and his sons will be burnt, and Bergthora,
my foster-child. So carry it away and scatt