It was on a day when the winter was merging into spring, but the coast-line near Aar was still thick with pack ice and large floes which had floated in from the more northern seas.  A certain fisherman who dwelt on this shore came to the hall to tell us that he had seen a great white bear on one of these floes, which, he believed, had swum from it to the land.  He was a man with a club-foot, and I can recall a vision of him limping across the snow towards the drawbridge of Aar, supporting himself by a staff on the top of which was cut the figure of some animal.

“Young lords,” he cried out, “there is a white bear on the land, such a bear as once I saw when I was a boy.  Come out and kill the bear and win honour, but first give me a drink for my news.”

At that time I think my father, Thorvald, was away from home with most of the men, I do not know why; but Ragnar, Steinar and I were lingering about the stead with little or nothing to do, since the time of sowing was not yet.  At the news of the club-footed man, we ran for our spears, and one of us went to tell the only thrall who could be spared to make ready the horses and come with us.  Thora, my mother, would have stopped us—­she said she had heard from her father that such bears were very dangerous beasts—­but Ragnar only thrust her aside, while I kissed her and told her not to fret.

Outside the hall I met Freydisa, a dark, quiet woman of middle age, one of the virgins of Odin, whom I loved and who loved me and, save one other, me only among men, for she had been my nurse.

“Whither now, young Olaf?” she asked me.  “Has Iduna come here that you run so fast?”

“No,” I answered, “but a white bear has.”

“Oh! then things are better than I thought, who feared lest it might be Iduna before her time.  Still, you go on an ill errand, from which I think you will return sadly.”

“Why do you say that, Freydisa?” I asked.  “Is it just because you love to croak like a raven on a rock, or for some good reason?”

“I don’t know, Olaf,” she answered.  “I say things because they come to me, and I must, that is all.  I tell you that evil will be born of this bear hunt of yours, and you had better stop at home.”

“To be laughed at by my brethren, Freydisa?  Moreover, you are foolish, for if evil is to be, how can I avoid it?  Either your foresight is nothing or the evil must come.”

“That is so,” answered Freydisa.  “From your childhood up you had the gift of reason which is more than is granted to most of these fools about us.  Go, Olaf, and meet your fore-ordained evil.  Still, kiss me before you go lest we should not see each other again for a while.  If the bear kills you, at least you will be saved from Iduna.”

Now while she said these words I was kissing Freydisa, whom I loved dearly, but when I understood them I leapt back before she could kiss me again.

“What do you mean by your talk about Iduna?” I asked.  “Iduna is my betrothed, and I’ll suffer no ill speech of her.”