garments, so that nothing remained on him except his sheepskin shoes,
shirt and hose, and take the water. Now here the river runs mightily,
and he must cross full thirty fathoms of the swirling water before he
can reach Sheep-saddle, and woe to him if his foot slip on the boulders,
for certainly he must be swept over the brink.

Eric rested the staff against the stony bottom and, leaning his weight
on it, took the stream, and he was so strong that it could not prevail
against him till at length he was rather more than half-way across and
the water swept above his shoulders. Now he was lifted from his feet
and, letting the staff float, he swam for his life, and with such mighty
strokes that he felt little of that icy cold. Down he was swept--now the
lip of the fall was but three fathoms away on his left, and already
the green water boiled beneath him. A fathom from him was the corner of
Sheep-saddle. If he may grasp it, all is well; if not, he dies.

Three great strokes and he held it. His feet were swept out over the
brink of the fall, but he clung on grimly, and by the strength of his
arms drew himself on to the rock and rested a while. Presently he stood
up, for the cold began to nip him, and the people below became aware
that he had swum the river above the fall and raised a shout, for the
deed was great. Now Eric must begin to clamber down Sheep-saddle, and
this was no easy task, for the rock is almost sheer, and slippery with
ice, and on either side the waters rushed and thundered, throwing their
blinding spray about him as they leapt to the depths beneath. He looked
down, studying the rock; then, feeling that he grew afraid, made an end
of doubt and, grasping a point with both hands, swung himself down his
own length and more. Now for many minutes he climbed down Sheep-saddle,
and the task was hard, for he was bewildered with the booming of the
waters that bent out on either side of him like the arc of a bow, and