Icelandic Folk Tales by Hjörleifur Helgi Stefánsson

Author:Hjörleifur Helgi Stefánsson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The History Press

A FATHER OF EIGHTEEN

A very, very long time ago there stood a farm. It was a remote farm, far away from other people and other farms. It stood on the borders of the highland where summers are short and winters are long and hard. The farm was newly built by a couple who had worked hard on the bigger farms in the area for a long time, sometimes together, sometimes apart. They had scraped together enough to buy their land and build a farm with their own two hands. Maybe it was the beauty of the highlands that called them, maybe it was their urge to be independent from all others, or maybe it was both. But here they were, together. It was a simple household, only the two of them to do all the farm work, on top of building their new life so far away inland. They built their house on the bank of a small river that had dug its way into the ground over the centuries, and the banks provided shade for the trout that had lived there for as long as the river had sung. They could grab the trout with their hands if they lay on the bank, slowly lowering their hand, dressed in a wool mitten to get a good grip as the fish slowly swam towards them. The banks of the river were flat and green and the grass they cut with their scythe was tall and plenty, and they covered four big stacks of hay with turf they cut for each winter. They salted the fish, they smoked the meat from their few lambs, they made cheese from the milk of the ewes and the cow, and they fed the sheep, so making a difficult living for themselves.

They were happy in their own way, there under the mountains with little company except for the occasional traveller who rested their weary bones for a night and then went on their way for whatever the reasons that can drag someone up so far into the highlands. The two of them loved each other very much and one winter morning the woman knew she was with child. Her husband was thrilled, and afraid. Bringing up a child in these harsh surroundings would not be easy. Many children died young in better houses than their own, but it would be their child, and he vowed to take the best care of it he possibly could. The day finally came when the woman gave birth; and it was a long and difficult labour. After hours of agony she finally gave birth to a healthy, big boy who came into this world with his big blue eyes gleaming and gave a healthy, loud cry until he finally found his mother’s breast.

The boy grew fast and, oh, did he grow. His eyes were the deepest blue, like the pools in their river, and he had the sweetest face his parents had ever seen. His hair was fair as

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