Lögberg-Heimskringla - 07.11.1997, Síða 6

6 • Lögberg-Heimskringla • Friday, November 7, 1997
CZhILDREN’S CZorner
THE ICELANDIC SAGAS
By Prof. Pétur Sigurdsson, M.A.
English translation by Bogi Bjarnason
A , the Alþing, in the summer following the buming of
| Bergthorshvol, the perpetrators were prosecuted at the bar
Á. A. W of justice, but the case for the prosecution miscarried and a
battle ensued on the Plain of Þingvalla. The forces of the defence gave
pround and sought to carry the fight to the gorge (Almannagjá), but
Snorri the priest stood in the way of their gaining this advantage. “Snorri
then addressed Flosi (leader of the forces which committed the outrage):
“Wherefore hasteth thou, or who pusueth thee?” Flosi replied: “Thy
query is not pressed by reason of thy ignorance of the matter. Or is it of
thy doing that we are denied access to the gorge?” “This is not of my
doing,” replied Snorri, “but my admission shall be thine for the asking,
that I know who bars the way — Thorvaldur Kroppinskeggi and Kolr.”
The historian has, in this instance, missed the pointe humor in Snorri’s
words, and seeks to convey his own interpretation of them. The saga
adds: “They (Thorvaldur and Kolr) were at this time both dead, and both
enjoyed reputations as the most pronounced villains of Flosi’s men.”
This may be fitly classed as humor of a low order, but the historian has
missed the true import of Snorri’s words. The matter is given another
light by referring to Ari The Leamed’s account of how the Plain of
Þingvalla became a public estate, nearly one hundred years prior to the
events in review. “That man who possessed the farm at Bláskógum had
been found guilty of slaying a housecarl or an erstwhile bondsman. His
name was called Thorir Kroppinskeggi, and his daughter’s son,
Thorvaldur Kroppinskeggi, who later went to Austfjordu and effected
his own brother Gunnar’s death by firing his home and trapping him
within — so saith Hallur Orsekjuson; and the name of the murdered
bondman was called Kolr; the gorge where the corpse was found is since
called Kolsgjá; the region passed to the state and was appropriated to
public use at the site of Alþing.” Snorri banteringly referred to these two
as the spirits of the region. The saga has missed the point of the allusin,
while faithfully transmitting the words.
Continued in the next issue.
Trusting Humans
Continued from page 4
enough for me to blandly accept what
followed. Another rude jab and the
words, “Tough little bugger. These are
Icelandics, I guess I have to up the dos-
age.” I found the behaviour very uncivi-
lized to say the least. Rules are mles ánd
meant to be followed. One shot is okay;
two is too many. By the third jab I had
become quite annoyed!
Even though I had grown slightly
groggier, I was not a pushover, and I
never will be. I did not intend to allow
the guy to stick needles into me a third
time without giving him a mn for his
money. He ended up succeeding in the
end, but not before I made the decision
to let him. It’s not worth it to fight with
individuals whose standards of fair play
don’t live up to your own. I could easily
have nailed him, but then I would have
had to live with that on my conscience
for the rest of my life.
I don’t want to tell you about what
followed. I don’t know what was worse
— having it done to me, or watching it
being done to the others. Are people re-
ally so bizarre that they enjoy cutting up
other people? When they took the next
load to the vet, the day after, I wamed
the guys, but they didn’t listen. “You’re
full of bull,” they said. “Nobody could
be as perverse as that!”
They couldn’t say I didn’t wam them.
Gelding, the butchers called it, and
Elisabeth said it was for our own good.
The worst part was that she looked as if
she really meant it. Is there no limit to
how hypocritical humans can be? Eleven
stallions had to be enough, she said.
Twenty-six in one herd was just too
scary, even for her. Besides there were
lots of people out there who couldn’t havé
a stallion but who were looking for won-
derful geldings like us.
I was still groggy that day at the vet,
when they shooed us into the trailer, but
on the ride home, I swore never, ever to
enter another trailer again! So far I’ve
almost kept that promise.
When the fence was done, and it was
time to retum us to the hundred acres, I
kept them on their toes for a long time,
and led them on a merry dance. But after
I had watched a couple of loads of the
others leaving, and realized they were just
being transported a couple of hundred
yards down the road, I made up my mind
I’d made them run around enough to
make my point.
STEINN BOLLASON
This children’s story continues in this issue.
It is translated by Gunnur Isfeld.
í 6T-v að er alveg ómögulegt,” sagði hann
ST illur í skapi.
“Þá skal ég nú sýna þér, að það er vel
hægt,” sagði Steinn og kreysti ostbitann, svo
að mjólkin rann út um greiparnar á honum.
Þegar risinn sá þetta, fór hann að skima í
kringum sig, til að vita, hvar hann gæti komizt
sem beinasta leið heim til sín, en þá gekk
Steinn i veg fyrir hann.
“Við skulum nú snöggvast telja dálítið
saman, hvað mikið þú ert búinn að fá af fénu
hérna,” sagði hann. “Það er ekki ætlast til,
að þú fáir það fyrir ekki neitt.”
6 6Tj- is altogether impossible,” he retorted.
11 “I will show you, it is well possible,” said Steinn and squeezed
the piece of cheese until milk squeezed out between his fingers. When the
giant saw this, he began looking around for the shortest way home, but
Steinn walked in front of him.
“Let us do some counting, to find out how many sheep you have taken
here,” he said. “You are not getting them free.”
The word The word as it appears in story Grammar English translation
ómögulegt kreysta kreysti impossible squeeze
renna rann pt. flour
greipar greipar(nar) pl. def. the space between the
skima kring um sig í veg fyrir snöggbast thumb and the other fingers look all around all around in front of briefly, shortly
Therefore, I just happened to sort of
wander into the catch pen and discover I
had been trapped. By doing so rather than
really give in, I didn’t have to lose face
or renege on my principles. It was just so
much easier that way than being stubbom
and insisting on showing them just how
persistent and powerful I really am.
The real test came a few weeks later
when it was time to worm once again. I
was not the one who had broken the rules
of our relationship, and I wanted to make
it absolutely clear that it would be a long
time before I would even consider trust-
ing a human being again. Elisabeth just
laughed, and sent me massive waves of
love. “She understood perfectly,” she
said. She would have felt exactly the
same way and she was so sorry I had had
to go through everything I had.
“Sorry didn’t cut the mustard,” I
said, but I did agree on a compromise.
I stood right at the doorway to the
trailer, but didn’t get in. She stuck the
worming gun into my mouth, I swal-
lowed and we were done!
You know the saying, there’s light at
the end of the tunnel? Well, that’s how I
believe it is. Time does not stand still,
and as the days go by, and I watch all the
other guys getting out to do fun things, I
kind of want to be a part of that, too. I let
Elisabeth pet me, because I know how
easily I can break away, and I do accept
treats. I just don’t think what happened
to me was fair, and now my question to
you is, “Do you think trusting humans
is saneT’ □
Reprinted from The Viking Saga Ranch
Newsletter, Lompoc, CA, October 1997.
CANADA
www.pltch-ln.ca