“In the morning _Hrafnkell_ saddled a horse and rode up to the dairy; he had his axe in his hand but no other weapons about him. At this time _Einarr_ had just driven the ewes into the pen, and lay on the top of the wall counting the sheep; but the women were busy milking. They all greeted _Hrafnkell_ and he asked how they got on. _Einarr_ answered; ‘I have no good speed myself, for no less than thirty ewes were missing for a week, though now I have found them again.’ Hrafnkell said he had no fault to find with things of that kind, ‘it has not happened so often as might have been expected that thou hast lost the ewes. But has not something worse befallen than that? Didst thou not have a ride on Freymane yesterday?’ “_Einarr_ replied,—‘I can not gainsay that utterly.’” “Why didst thou ride on this one horse which was forbidden thee, while there were plenty of others on which thou art free to ride? Now this one trespass I could have forgiven thee, if I had not used words of such great earnestness already. And yet thou hast manfully confessed thy guilt.” “But by reason of the belief that those who fulfill their vows never come to grief, he leaped off his horse, sprang upon _Einarr_, and dealt him his death blow.” In the afternoon the Doctor from _Blönduós_ arrived at the farm to pay a social call and the farmer brought him to our sitting room, while the eldest daughter served us with the usual social beverage in Iceland. Two pleasant hours passed during which we gained much information about Icelandic customs, local history and legends. The rain came down still harder in the evening but we welcomed it as it promised warmer weather and bare ground on the morrow. So much water had come into our bed room that it was only by judicious side stepping and walking on the tops of the packing boxes that we were able to reach the bed without a cold and muddy footbath.