_Jarngrim_.--Thither where tidings are near. Whenever I come down the
mountain side there arises tumult in the valleys; wherever I remain all
day great battles are fought. The Norns have decreed all that. But now
men say that the White God is about to come from the south, with great
splendor, and that he will bring with him peace. I ween it will prove a
lie.

_Thorolf_.--Decreed by the Norns! You must be an old man?

_Jarngrim_.--I was Ingolf's the First Settler's pilot on his journey to
Iceland.

_Thorolf_.--I am not a book-learned man; yet must you, then, be
exceedingly old and yet are not gray-haired.

_Jarngrim_.--I and my likes grow not gray.

_Thorolf_.--Will you tell me where I am?

_Jarngrim_.--This is the cave by Kolbein's stream.

_Thorolf_ (_shudders_).--I have heard it mentioned! But what do you
here?

_Jarngrim_.--I gather shields for my roof.

_Thorolf_.--Shields?

_Jarngrim_.--Those that drop from the hands of men slain in battle.