In the days when King Frederik the Second of Denmark ruled over
Bohuslen [FOOTNOTE: Frederik the Second reigned from 1544 to
1588. At that time, Bohuslen, now a province of southwest Sweden,
formed part of Norway and was under the Danish Crown.--Trans.]
there dwelt at Marstrand a poor hawker of fish, whose name was
Torarin. This man was infirm and of humble condition; he had a
palsied arm, which made him unfit to take his place in a boat for
fishing or pulling an oar. As he could not earn his livelihood at sea
like all the other men of the skerries, he went about selling salted
and dried fish among the people of the mainland. Not many days
in the year did he spend at home; he was constantly on the road
from one village to another with his load of fish.

One February day, as dusk was drawing on, Torarin came driving
along the road which led from Kungshall up to the parish of
Solberga. The road was a lonely one, altogether deserted, but this
was no reason for Torarin to hold his tongue. Beside him on the
sledge he had a trusty friend with whom to chat. This was a little
black dog with shaggy coat, and Torarin called him Grim. He lay
still most of the time, with his head sunk between his feet, and
answered only by blinking to all his master said. But if his ear
caught anything that displeased him, he stood up on the load, put
his nose in the air, and howled worse than a wolf.

"Now I must tell you, Grim, my dog," said Torarin, "that I have
heard great news today. They told me both at Kungshall and at
Kareby that the sea was frozen. Fair, calm weather it has been
this long while, as you well know, who have been out in it every
day; and they say the sea is frozen fast not only in the creeks
and sounds, but far out over the Cattegat. There is no fairway now