There came faintly to us, at last, the sound of shouting. I pressed aside a little of the flap and saw a fleet of boats being launched upon the now almost raging waters. They were filled by Horsen’s men, confident seemingly of capturing us if we were still alive in our frail cockleshell. There was no place where we might elude their sight, unless, keeping always ahead of them, we could pass the sea to far Lesso, half way across the Kattegat, a feat impossible in such a boat as ours. We settled down to endure as best we might. From outside faint sounds came to us, and when I ventured cautiously to press the edge of the flap aside into a crack I could hear the tumult of many voices and knew that they were working feverishly upon the whale, but this did not disturb me. I knew that they would work only on the landward side where was shallow water, and knew, too, that they would not reach us for some days. The whale was a huge one. The first night passed quietly and we slept well. What courage showed my mate! In the early morning I peered forth again and saw the boat I had cast adrift lying stranded on the beach. This was as I had planned. There came no unwonted sound from shore, and I decided that there could have been no battle. And so passed three more days, when suddenly sounds became distinct and very near. Our clansmen had almost reached us. I could feel the flesh behind me quivering, and I had a great idea. I chopped vigorously with my axe into the soft blubber and made a hole finally, and bellowed loudly through it. There was a roar of fright which was followed by flight and silence. Then I made the hole much larger and passed through it with Freya and called aloud to my friends who, it must be said, came back most hesitatingly. They thought us come from the bottom of the sea! Soon, though, they were themselves again and told me the story of all relating to Horsen and his band.