Then my father bade us dry and store all the fish we might against the
time that he saw was coming, and hard we worked at that. And even as we
toiled, from day to day we caught less, for the fish were leaving the
shores, and we had to go farther and farther for them, until at last a
day came when the boats came home empty, and the women wept at the shore
as the men drew them up silently, looking away from those whom they
could feed no longer.
That was the worst day, as I think, and it was in high summer. I mind
that I went to Stallingborough that day with the last of the fresh fish
of yesterday's catch for Witlaf's household, and it was hotter than
ever; and in all the orchards hung not one green apple, and even the
hardy blackberry briers had no leaves or sign of blossom, and in the
dikes the watercress was blackened and evil to see.
But I will say that in Grimsby we felt not the worst, by reason of that
wisdom of my father, and always Witlaf and his house shared with us.
Hard it was here, but elsewhere harder.
And then came the pestilence that goes with famine always. I have heard
that men have prayed to their gods for that, for it has seemed better to
them to die than live.
With the first breath of the pestilence died Grim my father, and about
that I do not like to say much. He bade us remember the words he had
spoken of Havelok our brother, and he spoke long to Arngeir in private
of the same; and then he told us to lay him in mound in the ancient way,
but with his face toward Denmark, whence we came.
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