by Snorro: how he drew up his five poor ships upon the beach, packed
all their furniture away, and with his hundred or so of attendants and
their journey-baggage, under guidance of some friendly Bonder, rode up
into the desert and foot of the mountains; scaled, after three days'
effort (as if by miracle, thought his attendants and thought Snorro),
the well-nigh precipitous slope that led across, never without
miraculous aid from Heaven and Olaf could baggage-wagons have ascended
that path! In short, How he fared along, beset by difficulties and
the mournfulest thoughts; but patiently persisted, steadfastly trusted
in God; and was fixed to return, and by God's help try again. An
evidently very pious and devout man; a good man struggling with
adversity, such as the gods, we may still imagine with the ancients,
do look down upon as their noblest sight.

He got to Sweden, to the court of his brother-in-law; kindly and nobly
enough received there, though gradually, perhaps, ill-seen by the now
authorities of Norway. So that, before long, he quitted Sweden; left
his queen there with her only daughter, his and hers, the only child
they had; he himself had an only son, "by a bondwoman," Magnus by
name, who came to great things afterwards; of whom, and of which, by
and by. With this bright little boy, and a selected escort of
attendants, he moved away to Russia, to King Jarroslav; where he might
wait secure against all risk of hurting kind friends by his presence.
He seems to have been an exile altogether some two years,--such is
one's vague notion; for there is no chronology in Snorro or his Sagas,
and one is reduced to guessing and inferring. He had reigned over
Norway, reckoning from the first days of his landing there to those
last of his leaving it across the Dovrefjeld, about fifteen years, ten
of them shiningly victorious.