the rock was very steep and slippery. Still, he came down all those
fifteen fathoms and fell not, though twice he was near to falling, and
the watchers below marvelled greatly at his hardihood.

"He will be dashed to pieces where the waters meet," said Ospakar, "he
can never gain Wolf's Fang crag beneath; and, if so it be that he come
there and leaps to the pool, the weight of water will drive him down and
drown him."

"It is certainly so," quoth Asmund, "and it grieves me much; for it was
my jest that drove him to this perilous adventure, and we cannot spare
such a man as Eric Brighteyes."

Now Swanhild turned white as death; but Gudruda said: "If great heart
and strength and skill may avail at all, then Eric shall come safely
down the waters."

"Thou fool!" whispered Swanhild in her ear, "how can these help him? No
troll could live in yonder cauldron. Dead is Eric, and thou art the bait
that lured him to his death!"

"Spare thy words," she answered; "as the Norns have ordered so it shall
be."

Now Eric stood at the foot of Sheep-saddle, and within an arm's length
the mighty waters met, tossing their yellow waves and seething furiously
as they leapt to the mist-hid gulf beneath. He bent over and looked
through the spray. Three fathoms under him the rock Wolf's Fang split
the waters, and thence, if he can come thither, he may leap sheer into
the pool below. Now he unwound the rope that was about his middle, and