caught in the southeast winds, and never heard of more.

Now, it would make a long tale to tell of what came thereafter on
the open sea. Bertric would have me sleep now, and I did so, for I
was fairly worn out, and then the weather grew wilder, until we
were driving before a gale, and our hope of making even the
Shetlands was gone.

So we drove for two whole days until we had lost all reckoning, and
the gale blew itself out. But for the skilful handling of the boat
by Bertric, I know we might have been swamped at times in the
following seas, but Dalfin knew naught of the peril. He baled when
it was his turn, cheerfully, and slept be times, so that I envied
him his carelessness and trust in us.

The wind wore round to the northwest at its last and hardest, and
then sank quickly. On the third morning we were in bright sunshine,
and the sea was going down fast, and again we were heading east,
with a half hope of making some landfall in Norway, if anywhere. At
noon we shared the last loaf in just such a calm as had fallen on
us at first; and at last Bertric and I might sleep again, leaving
Dalfin to keep watch. We might be in the track of vessels from
Norway westward and southward, but we could not tell, and maybe we
expected him to see nothing. But it may tell how wearied we were
that we left so untried a landsman to watch for us, though, indeed,
either of us would wake with the least uneasiness of the boat in a
rising wind. So we slept a great sleep, and it was not until near
sunset that Dalfin roused us.

"There is somewhat like a sail on the skyline to the eastward," he