but he had more solid reasons for the conquest than those assigned by the chronicler. That island, like the Orkneys, was the resort of pirates whenever they were defeated in Scandinavia. His desire to explore the state of Iceland before he invaded it has given rise to a legend which may be mentioned for its novelty. He persuaded a wizard—no doubt a Finn—to change his form, and repair to that island. No form seemed so judicious as that of a large fish; and under it the magician made the voyage, without the incumbrance of ships or men. But his ingenuity availed him little. On attempting to land at the first bay, a huge dragon forced him to seek the deep. At another, a large bird equally opposed his landing. If the east and north of the island were thus guarded, surely the west coast, which was then, as now, wholly unfrequented, would be more accessible. The hope was vain; a fierce bull advanced into the water to meet him. Nor was the southern coast more hospitable: as he attempted to land he perceived a huge giant, whose head was higher than the hills, and whose hand was graced with a ponderous bar of iron. To attempt the conquest of a region guarded by local deities, or by extraordinary magic, was hopeless; and the baffled Finn returned to Denmark.[200] [Sidenote: 900 to 993.] So long as Harald lived, Hako appears to have remained undisturbed; but, after the accession of Sweyn, a powerful fleet sailed from Denmark to chastise his rebellion. Yet it entirely failed; patriotism roused the Norwegians to unite, and repel the invaders. As yet, too, Hako had shown few proofs of that unbridled licence which distinguished him in the following years. He had many great qualities; he was active, enterprising, brave in a degree seldom equalled, even in an age of heroes. Great was his triumph over the formidable Sweyn; and he had no longer a rival, except in Harald Grenske: nor did this king long thwart his views. The way in which Grenske met his fate has in it much of romance, yet is in no respect contrary to probability, or inconsistent with the manners of the times. In a piratical expedition to the Baltic, he landed on the Swedish coast, of which kingdom Olaf, son of Eric the Victorious, was the head. In his youth Harald had been reared in Sweden; and his foster-sister was Sigfrida, mother of the king. Hearing that Harald was on the coast, not far from her manor, she sent him an invitation to visit her, and he readily accepted it. Never was hospitality more open or more agreeable. The widowed queen, who sat on a throne to honour Harald and his chiefs, presided over a sumptuous entertainment; and, after it, she encouraged the circulation of the horn, not merely by her invitation, but by her example. “All drank manfully,” says the historian, which means deeply enough. But neither the lady nor Harald indulged so much as the rest; and when the latter was laid in the magnificent bed which had been prepared for him, the