364 
LETTERS FROM HIGH LATITUDES. 
morning.” Then Thormod took the tongs and pulled 
the iron out. The arrow-head was barbed, and on 
it there hung some morsels of flesh. When he saw that 
he said, “ The King has fed us well! I am fat—even 
at the heart-roots!” And so saying, he leant back, 
and died . 1 
Stout, faithful heart! if they gave you no place 
in your master’s stately tomb, there is room for you 
by his side in heaven! 
I have at last received—I need not say how joy¬ 
fully—two letters from you; one addressed to Hammer- 
fest. I had begun to think that some Norwegian 
warlock had bewitched the post-bags, in the approved 
old ballad fashion, to prevent their rendering up my 
dues; for when the packet of letters addressed to the 
“ Foam ” was brought on board, immediately after our 
arrival, I alone got nothing. From Sigurdr and the 
Doctor to the cabin-boy, every face was beaming over 
“ news from home! ” while I was left to walk the deck, 
with my hands in my pockets, pretending not to care. 
1 When a man was wonnded in the abdomen it was the habit of 
the Norse leeches to give him an onion to eat; by this means they 
learnt whether the weapon had perforated the viscera. 
