The men in the boats seeking us on the water had rowed hard all day in a rough sea, and one boat had capsized and two of its crew were lost. There had been much risk, and when, at night, the boats returned all felt assured that Freya and I must have been lost before we had gone a league. There had been a close search of the country, but they had expected to find nothing and were not disappointed in that. They had returned from the search in an ugly mood, and the vengeful Horsen had seemed about ready for battle, but our clan had its own temper aroused by this time and, upon showing their readiness for the fight, outnumbering the men of Horsen as they did, he had thought better of it, and departed sullenly with his following. We should probably never see any of them again, for the shell-beds they sought were far to the south and there were intervening fjords which must be rounded, making their journey a long and arduous one. So we settled down to peace, Freya becoming an accepted and much regarded woman of the clan. We two sought our hut, and I carried to it more of the blubber of the whale because of the light it would supply us. As for the flesh, we would have none of it. Its odour was too persistent in our nostrils. The long days passed and the winter came, bitter, even for the region, but little did my Freya and I heed the cold in our hut, upon which I had heaped many sods and before the door of which the indrawn shield of skins fitted too closely to admit the chilly winds. We snuggled, like rabbits, there together in our furs, and ate and slept and were almost as sluggish, though most happily, as were the others about us. Often Freya would stroke the long scar upon my face and press her lips against it. We were different in many ways from our companions. Yet, the winter seemed long, though sometimes I would go floundering through the deep snow on the hunt seeking such game as had not moved southward for the time, and especially the fur-bearers whose pelts now bore their richest covering. Some success I had at this, but I was glad, as was my mate, when the sun shone again more warmly and the snow and ice turned into water. First of all were we to build our fire out in the open. Warmer and warmer became the days, the snow had gone and there were leaves upon the trees and many flowers upon the ground, of which Freya would twine wreaths in her hair, making her fairer still, if that might be. Then came upon us both a certain longing and a great restlessness, which we could not understand. It was I, thinking deeply one day while on the hunt, who first recognized the nature of our weariness and discontent. We were not as we should be. So different from the others were we that our lot should not be cast always with them. What should we do? I hastened home to Freya and told her of what was in my mind, and she assented joyously. We would leave the shell-fish eaters!