Snæbjorn Eyvindsson’s Hunt For His Kinswoman’s Murderer

Snæbjorn Eyvindsson was a 9th-century Icelander who was said to have lived at Vatnsfjord. He was close friends with Tongue-Odd, a cousin of his who lived not too far away, somewhere between the Hvit and Reykjadale rivers. The two kinsmen visited each other often and worked closely together on issues that threatened their livelihood and families. Snæbjorn was on one such visit at Tongue-Odd’s estate, when a man named Hallbjorn arrived on the property. This Hallbjorn came from a wealthy, landholding family on Iceland, and his purpose for visiting Odd’s estate was evidently to search for a wife.

Tongue-Odd had a beautiful daughter named Hallgerd, who was said to have possessed the finest head of hair in all of Iceland. Upon arriving at the estate, Hallbjorn liked what he saw and quickly began negotiating with Tongue-Odd on a possible marriage between himself and Hallgerd. Tongue-Odd, impressed by Hallbjorn’s wealthy kinsmen, apparently agreed to the proposal without paying much heed to Hallgerd’s own wishes, and the marriage took place immediately. Thankfully for the surprised bride, Hallbjorn decided to spend the rest of that winter at Tongue-Odd’s estate, allowing Hallgerd to get to know her new husband in a more familiar setting, with her father, Odd, and her kinsman, Snæbjorn, both nearby.

Unfortunately, as the winter progressed, everyone present on the tense estate could tell that there was no chemistry between the bride and groom. Hallgerd showed no interest in her husband, at all, and mainly stayed secluded in a room, spending the days brushing and combing her renowned hair. Hallbjorn, on the other hand, looked on his unhappy wife with only the longing of lust, but with none of the care and affection of love. Tongue-Odd tried in every way he could imagine to make his daughter and son-in-law grow closer together, yet all of his efforts failed. As the winter came to a close, both Tongue-Odd and his cousin Snæbjorn knew that the marriage was an utter disaster. The two kinsmen, however, likely could not have imagined just how horribly the rushed marriage would turn out.

When spring arrived, Snæbjorn departed from Odd’s estate and went to Kjalvararstead. Before long, Tongue-Odd, too, was drawn away from the homestead by business that needed tending to in Reykholt. Hallbjorn, left alone with his wife and the estate’s farmhands, became eager to leave for his own family lands. By May, Hallbjorn was ready to depart from the place, regardless of what his wife wanted.

On a fateful day late in May, while Snæbjorn and Tongue-Odd were still away, Hallbjorn gathered his gear and saddled a set of horses for himself and his wife, determined to leave the homestead at all costs. When all was prepared, Hallbjorn went into the house and found Hallgerd in her usual spot—secluded in a room and brushing her hair. As the story goes, Hallbjorn burst into Hallgerd’s reclusive haven and demanded that she come along. According to the Book of Settlements, Hallgerd not only refused to budge from the spot, but also refrained from gracing Hallbjorn with even a single word of answer. At this point, the situation became violent. Hallbjorn, infuriated, grabbed hold of Hallgerd’s arm or clothing, and tried to drag her to the horses. Hallgerd, however, was a match for her husband in strength and she remained firmly seated, despite all of the pulling. When Hallbjorn realized his muscles were not enough to dislodge his wife, he resorted to the lowly move of hairpulling. Yet, even while yanking at handfuls of his wife’s famous hair, Hallbjorn could not make Hallgerd budge from the room. Hallbjorn’s final move, unfortunately, was one that Hallgerd could not thwart. Enraged by his wife’s resistance and formidable strength, Hallbjorn grabbed a sword and murdered his wife, where she sat, in Tongue-Odd’s home. After the attack, Hallbjorn fled for friendly territory with two loyal companions.

Even though Hallbjorn had committed the gruesome crime while Tongue-Odd and Snæbjorn were away, the murder did not go unwitnessed. Farmhands had been at the homestead when the assault occurred, and they quickly pieced together what happened. The farmhands then sent an account of the dark events to Tongue-Odd in Reykholt and Snæbjorn in Kjalvararstead. As soon as the two kinsmen received the horrible news, they were immediately bent upon revenge. Tongue-Odd, too distraught, old or conflicted to lead the manhunt, decided to leave the task of seeking revenge in the capable hands of his cousin. Snæbjorn, given control of the operation, gathered eleven men and set out to confront Hallbjorn.

Snæbjorn and his party quickly intercepted Hallbjorn in a hilly region, and they intended to show no mercy. The murderer and his two companions took the defensible high ground on one of the hills as the pursuers approached. A costly skirmish ensued, in which the place of battle moved from hill to hill. Although highly outnumbered, Hallbjorn and his companions fought well, and the murderer continued to battle on long after his two friends had been cut down. According to the Book of Settlements, five of Snæbjorn’s followers fell before Hallbjorn was finally killed, avenging the death of the murdered Hallgerd.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribute: (illustration for the Saga of Olaf Tryggvason drawn by Christian Krohg (1852–1925), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

The Eerie Book Of Settlements Entry For Thorkel Farserk

Thorkel Farserk was a 10th-century Icelander who was a cousin and contemporary of Eirik the Red. The two cousins were close, and when Eirik the Red set out to colonize Greenland around 985, Thorkel was one of the men who signed on for the adventure. Upon arriving in the new land, he set up a home in a fjord near Eirik the Red’s settlement and reportedly started a dynasty that for centuries ruled the land around his homestead. Interestingly, Thorkel’s relationship with Eirik the Red and his participation in the colonization of Greenland were not what he was best known for by the medieval Icelanders. Instead, he was remembered as being a superhuman figure who possessed uncanny abilities both in life and in death.

As described in the Book of Settlements, Thorkel Farserk was “a man of unusual powers” (Landnámabók, Sturlubók manuscript, chapter 93). Much of his uncanny power was apparently physical in nature, such as limitless endurance and a resistance to cold. He performed his most famous alleged feat of strength on a day when Eirik the Red visited Thorkel’s home for a social gathering. Thorkel Farserk may have been superhuman, but he was also a terrible event planner—when Eirik’s arrival was imminent, Thorkel discovered, with shock, that he had no presentable food on hand at his dwelling and no ship nearby with which he could quickly reach his livestock, which were grazing on an island that lay over a mile off-shore. Without a boat, the swath of icy water was an intimidating obstacle that potentially blocked Thorkel from saving his feast and reputation. He, however, was (according to legend) a cold-resistant, supernaturally-gifted man with Herculean strength, so Thorkel Farserk simply dove into the water and swam the mile-long distance to the sheep-inhabited isle. He then picked out the animal of his choice, jumped back into the water with the sheep on his back, and retraced the mile-long journey through the cold water until he reached home.

When Thorkel Farserk eventually died, his legend and reputation continued to grow. According to Folklore, he did not rest in peace, but instead chose to haunt his lands in perpetuity. As the Book of Settlements eerily phrased it, “Thorkel was buried in the enclosure of Hvalseyjarfjord, and has been there, round about the house, ever since” (Landnámabók, Sturlubók manuscript, chapter 93).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (swimming scene from the saga of Olaf Tryggvason, illustrated by Halfdan Egedius (1877–1899), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Erik-the-Red 
• https://www.biography.com/explorer/erik-the-red  

The Odd Tale Of Herjolf The Avenger

Old Herjolf Sigurdsson was reportedly one of the many adventurers to sail to Iceland during the Icelandic Age of Settlement (approximately 860-930). According to the Landnámabók (Book of Settlements), the elderly Herjolf, and his son, Thorstein Coal-beard, laid claim to the lands in Iceland between Bulandshofdi and Kirkjuffjord. Unfortunately, little was recorded about Herjolf’s life after he settled in Iceland, and perhaps he succumbed to his old age not long after reaching his destination. Nevertheless, before he died, Herjolf Sigurdsson secured his legacy by telling tales about his wild youthful exploits in the old country. Some of these stories were transformed by Icelandic skalds into poetry, of which one poem still survives.

In his glory days, Herjolf Sigurdsson was reportedly one of the best fighters in the Nordic world. He was, as they say, a chip off the old block—Herjolf’s father, Sigurd Hog’s-Head, was described as a champion among men. Mighty Sigurd, however, was quickly outshined by his impressive son, who reportedly began performing great feats of Herculean strength when he was only a child. Yet, the rivalry between father and son was abruptly cut off when Sigurd Hog’s-Head was slain by a rival sometime during Herjolf’s childhood. In death, Sigurd left one last test for his son, as Herjolf was expected to avenge his father’s killing. Herjolf did, indeed, avenge his father, and reportedly did so when he was only twelve years of age.

The most memorable of Herjolf’s tales, however, occurred four years before he avenged his father’s death.  At the time, he was an eight-year-old goatherd. Although young, Herjolf took his job seriously and was incredibly protective of his goats. Humans likely knew not to mess with the growing warrior’s animals. Animals, however, did not have the same insight. One day, as the story goes, a brown bear with a distinctively burned rump ambushed Herjolf’s livestock and successfully bit one of the goats. The young hero, however, did not shy away from the predator but charged forward against the bear to rescue (or avenge) his poor goat. Using whatever he had on hand, eight-year-old Herjolf was able to drive off or kill the bear. Interestingly enough, this is the tale that was preserved and immortalized by an anonymous skald in this curious verse:

“The bear with a burnt arse

bit Herjolf’s goat.

Herjolf with the bent arse

paid the bear back.”

(Landnámabók, Stulubók manuscript, chapter 80)

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (A scene of Valhalla by Emil Doepler (c. 1855-1922), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

The Battle Of The Einars In the Snæfellsnes Peninsula

According to the Book of Settlements (Landnámabók), a man named Sigmund Ketilsson lived on the southwestern end of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula in Iceland. He lived during the Age of Settlement (approximately 860-930) and claimed for himself the land between what the Landnámabók calls Hellishraun and Beruvikurhraun. Within his territory, he chose Laugarbrekka as his seat of power and built a farm there, where he lived with his wife, Hildigunn, and three sons, Einar, Breid and Thorkell. The eldest son was Einar and, as he inherited control of his father’s farm, he became known as Einar of Laugarbrekka. Unfortunately, little is known about the lives of Einar’s brothers, Breid and Thorkell. Besides his family and his farmhands, Sigmund was fairly isolated in his section of Snæfellsnes. Yet, he did sell some land to a neighbor named Lon-Einar, who lived nearby. Sigmund and Lon-Einar both had sizable parties of loyal farmhands, but there seemed to be peace between the neighbors while Sigmund was alive.

When Sigmund died, however, Lon-Einar began to encroach on his neighbor’s territory. At some point after Sigmund’s death, Lon-Einar gathered a crew of six henchmen and traveled to Laugarbrekka, where the widow Hildigunn was still living. What Lon-Einar did there is vague, but perhaps he made some sort of pass at Hildigunn, or as the Landnámabók curiously stated, he “summoned Hildigunn for sorcery” (Landnámabók, Stulubók manuscript, chapter 75). Whether or not he genuinely needed her help with magic, or if he wanted to make a different kind of passionate magic with her, Hildigunn was stricken with disgust by his proposal. When she later told her sons of Lon-Einar’s request, they, too, were outraged. The new head of the late Sigmund’s household, Einar of Laugarbrekka, promptly rounded together a warband of farmhands and slaves and set out with his well-armed party to hunt down Lon-Einar.

Lon-Einar was still accompanied by his six companions when he was confronted by the group from Laugarbrekka. The meeting between the two parties did not go well and words quickly turned to blows. Soon, there was a full-blown battle between the sides of the two Einars. Yet, the fight was apparently one-sided. After four of Lon-Einar’s companions were slain, his last two henchmen fled from the scene. Yet, Lon-Einar, himself, reportedly stood his ground and dueled Einar of Laugarbrekka. The two were evenly matched, but Lon-Einar was wearing loose pants that day and, while trying to pull up his falling breeches, he received a fatal blow from Einar of Laugarbrekka. Meanwhile, the two men who had fled the scene of the battle were hunted down and killed.

Einar of Laugarbrekka returned home with a complete victory. The Landnámabók, unfortunately, did not record Hildigunn’s reaction or what her life was like after the battle. The book did, however, claim that a slave named Hreidar distinguished himself during the Battle of the Einars, and that Einar of Laugarbrekka gave Hreidar freedom, as well as ownership over however much land the freedman could fence off in three days.

As for Einar of Laugarbrekka, he married a woman called Unn, and they had two daughters, named Hallveg and Arnora. When he eventually died, Einar of Laugarbrekka was buried in a grave near the burial mound of his father, Sigmund. Plant life around Einar’s grave, the Landnámabók insisted, always remained green in both summer and winter.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (A scene from Njal's Saga, by the artist Andreas Bloch (1860–1917), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

The Melodic Escape Of A Slave From The Burial Mound Of Asmund Atlison

During the reign of Harald Finehair (ruled approximately 860-940), a man named Atli Valason sailed away from Norway and settled in Iceland. Atli had a son named Asmund, who married a woman named Thora and set up farmsteads in Langaholt and Oxl. Asmund apparently became a Viking and acquired slaves and wealth, which were used to build new structures on his land. Among his construction projects was a new hall for his wife’s personal enjoyment at Langaholt. Thora was quite the socialite, and according to the Book of Settlements, “she used to sit on a chair outside and invite every guest to come in for a meal” (Landnámabók, Stulubók version, chapter 72). Although the gregarious Thora no doubt spent a great deal of money entertaining her friends, Asmund managed to die a wealthy man.

Regarding funerary practices, early Scandinavian societies apparently preferred cremation. Yet, around the time of the Viking Age (in which Asmund was living), burials were also rising in popularity. Asmund’s family chose the latest fashion and decided to lay Asmund to rest in a ship and entombed both him and the ship inside a burial mound. Some of his prized possessions were also buried in the mound with him, including, unfortunately, one of his slaves. Although such human inclusions in funerals were sometimes ritually slaughtered, the slave inside of Asmund’s burial mound was apparently buried alive and left to slowly die of hunger and thirst (or else the rest of this tale is a ghost story).

Facing doom and boredom, the trapped slave found comfort in one of humanity’s oldest forms of expression—song. The slave began singing an impromptu song that was written from the perspective of the deceased Asmund, lamenting that the once powerful Viking now was accompanied by only a single lowly slave. According to Icelandic folklore, a passerby was near Asmund’s grave when this song eerily began emanating from the burial mound. According to the Book of Settlements, the anonymous Icelander heard these verses:

“On board my ship

in this stony mound,

no crew here

crowding around me;

far better solitude

than feeble support,

a fine sailor I was once;

that won’t be forgotten.”

(Landnámabók, Stulubók version, chapter 72)

The passerby apparently thought that the singer’s line of “far better solitude than feeble support” was a fair point and conveyed that reasoning to those who were responsible for the grave. According to the Book of Settlements, “After that the mound was opened up and the slave taken from the ship” (Landnámabók, Stulubók version, chapter 72). Unfortunately, no further information was recorded about the ultimate fate of the slave.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Burial of a Jarl, by Carl Schmidt (1858-1923), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

The Tale Of Thorir Grimsson And The Icelandic Merman

According to the Icelandic Book of Settlements (Landnámabók), a man named Grim Hroaldsson sailed to Iceland sometime during the so-called Age of Settlement (approximately c. 860-930). Likely before his journey, but possibly after, Grim married a woman named Bergdis and they had a son named Thorir (or Þorir). Grim and his family settled in the Steingrimsfjord region of northern Iceland, and their land became known as Grims Isle.

Before long, Grim had his farm up and running, and hired farmhands to help on his land. When Grim and his farmhands were not busy tending their flocks, they all often went fishing out at sea. Grim’s son, Thorir, was brought along on these fishing trips, but he must have still been a child (or was uninterested in fishing), for he was always swaddled in seal skins and stowed securely at the prow of the ship while the others fished. If weather was particularly harsh, Thorir was apparently stuffed into a sealskin bag. The boy’s later nickname, Sel-Thorir, is often attributed to those sealskins in which he was wrapped (or bagged) during his childhood.

At this point of the tale, the wholesome story of Grim’s charming life as a farmer, fisherman and family man took a sudden turn out of the mundane and straight into folklore and myth. According to the Book of Settlements, Grim made an amazing catch during an autumn fishing trip. The creature put up a fight, but the farmer eventually pulled his prey up to the surface of the water. Grim, according to the tale, had caught a merman, and, as it was a sentient being, the fishman and the fisherman naturally began to talk. After they had exchanged pleasantries, Grim asked the merman to predict the future. The merman agreed and indeed gave a prophecy, which was apparently modeled on a Greek myth of Cadmus—the one in which he was instructed by the Delphic Pythia to follow a cow to the location where the city of Thebes would be built. According to the Book of Settlements the conversation between Grim and the merman was as follows: “’There’s no point in my making prophecies about you,’ said the merman, ‘but that boy in the sealskin bag, he’ll settle and claim land where your mare Skalm lies down under her load’” (Landnámabók, Sturlubók manuscript, chapter 68).

After the merman encounter, life on Grim’s farm apparently returned to normal. For the rest of the autumn, work on the farm held priority. Yet, when winter arrived, Grim and his farmhands once more sailed out to sea on a fishing trip. This time, young Thorir decided to stay behind in the comfort of home instead of being stuffed inside another sealskin bag. It was a good choice, for Grim and his farmhands all tragically drowned at sea that winter.

After the fishing accident, the widow Bergdis was left alone to care for young Thorir and she found the farm on Grims Isle untenable now that all the farmhands were dead. Instead of hiring new workers, she decided to fulfill the merman’s prophecy. After gathering her son, Thorir, and Skalm (the mare), Bergdis set off on a journey inland into Iceland. According to the story, mother and son followed behind their trusty horse, Skalm, as she meandered through the Breidafjord and Borgarfjord regions. The Book of Settlements described the final leg of the peculiar journey:

“Skalm was still in the lead, and coming down from the moor into Borgarfjord District, just as they reached two red-coloured sand dunes, Skalm lay down under her load beside the westernmost dune. So Thorir took possession of the land south of Gnup River to Kald River below Knappadale, from the mountains and down to the sea” (Landnámabók, Sturlubók manuscript, chapter 68).

As the merman allegedly foretold, the land where the mare lay down was claimed in the name of Thorir. When the boy grew up, he reportedly became a powerful chieftain. Although he faced some misfortune (one of his farms was allegedly wiped out by a lava flow), Thorir lived to a great old age and was laid to rest somewhere on a local cliff.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (merman painted by Arthur Rackham (1867–1939), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

The Disturbing Life Swap Of Illugi The Red And Holm-Starri

A man named Illugi the Red was the fourth-generation of his family to live in Iceland, as his great-grandfather, Ulf, was the first of his ancestors to settle on the island. The Book of Settlements (Landnámabók) did not specifically date Illugi’s years of life, but it is reasonable that he lived during or not long after the so-called Age of Settlement (approximately 860-930). The Landnámabók did, however, report that Illugi the Red was the first Icelander to farm on a stretch of land called Hrauns Ridge.

Illugi the Red and his wife, Sigrid Thorarinsdottir, lived at Hrauns Ridge for an unknown amount of time, but eventually decided to move elsewhere. The couple gave their property on the ridge to a kinsman of Sigrid and then moved to Reykjadale to set up a new farm called Hofsstead, which was situated near a temple. Yet, even there, Illugi the Red was not satisfied.

After the Hofsstead farm had been constructed, Illugi the Red received an interesting proposition from a settler named Holm-Starri, who lived in the Outer-Holm region of Akranes, Iceland. For reasons unknown, Illugi the Red and Holm-Starri reportedly began negotiating an elaborate property swap. Yet, it was not only land and livestock that was being exchanged in the deal. According to the Book of Settlements, Illugi and Holm-Starri planned a complete and total life swap—including the exchange of their wives.

According to the tale, Illugi the Red finalized the deal, and, when the haggling was done, “he and Holm-Starri exchanged property, farms, wives, livestock and all” (Book of Settlements, Stulubók version, chapter 41). The women, apparently, were not involved in the negotiation and were only made privy to the terms of the agreement after the deal had been met. The bartered wives reacted to the shocking news in different ways. Holm-Starri’s wife, Jorunn Thormodsdottir, reportedly agreed to the deal and she was said to have married Illugi the Red and lived with him at Akranes. Yet, Sigrid Thorarinsdottir was distraught and in no way consented to marrying Holm-Starri. In a tragic end to the bizarre and disturbing tale, Sigrid reportedly hanged herself inside the temple near Hofsstead.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Scene from the saga of Harald Hardrada illustrated by   Wilhelm Wetlesen (Norway 1871-1925), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.

The Tale Of Asolf The Fish Finder

A man named Asolf tried with great difficulty to build a life for himself in the Eyjafell District of Iceland. His trials and tribulations were recorded in the Sturlubók (produced c. 1275-1280), Sturla Thordarson’s version of the Icelandic Book of Settlements. In the Sturlubók, the oldest of five existent Book of Settlement texts, Asolf is presented as a Christian immigrant to Iceland who arrived on the island well before it adopted Christianity in the year 1,000. As the Iceland of Asolf’s day was still staunchly pagan, he apparently had few friends and no community support. In fact, Asolf reportedly went out of his way to avoid his pagan countrymen, living a life both socially and economically isolated in the vicinity of Eastern Asolfsskali. Yet, when the Icelanders noticed that Asolf never came to them for food, they began to wonder how he was sustaining himself. The curious neighbors eventually started to spy on the recluse’s lifestyle and property. Before long, they discovered that Asolf had built his home beside a stretch of water that was packed with countless fish, and it was from that stream that he fed himself.

News about the fish spread quickly, and, before long, a posse of envious Icelanders marched into Eastern Asolfsskali to seize the impressive fishing site. Asolf was not one for confrontation, so he packed up his belongings and relocated to Midskali, where he built a new home by a river.  Back in Eastern Asolfsskali, the posse that had seized Asolf’s original homestead soon depleted the region of its fish, or perhaps the fish simply moved on. When the locals, disappointed about the absent fish, heard that Asolf had set up a new home at a nearby river, they once again became curious and spied on his property. Asolf must have been instinctually skilled when it came to fish, for he had built his home beside yet another bountiful fishing spot. When the spies discovered that Asolf’s new location was teeming with fish, another posse was formed and the Christian recluse again packed up his bags to relocate before any fighting occurred.

Now, however, everyone knew Asolf was a man who could find amazing fishing grounds, and informants greedily kept an eye on wherever the hermit went. Asolf eventually settled down in a new location in Western Asolfsskali, which, of course, had a great abundance of fish. Yet, even quicker than before, a group of envious locals arrived to commandeer the fishing spot. This was finally enough for poor Asolf, and he fled to a sympathetic kinsman named Jorund “the Christian” of Gardar. With Jorund’s help, Asolf was finally able to live the rest of his life in seclusion on Inner Holm. When Iceland became Christianized, the converted Icelanders reportedly looked back on Asolf as a holy man, and a church was said to have been set up at the site of his death.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: ("The Herring Net" by Winslow Homer (1836–1910), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Book of Settlements (Sturlubók version) translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press, 1972, 2006.