It was late in the summer when Ivar and Hjalmar, who had decided to cross the North Sea on the Elidi, and their Viking fleet left the coast of Britain for the Baltic. All on board of the ships wondered if Ægir and Ran, the god and goddess of the sea and their daughters, would show themselves in ugly mood on their way home. The people believed that those who were drowned at sea went to Ran, those who died by weapons went to Valhalla, and those who died of natural death in their beds or chairs went to Hel. The sea-faring people worshipped Ægir, for he governed the sea and wind. Ran, his wife, received well all shipwrecked people in her hall at the bottom of the sea, and had a net with which she caught men who came out to sea; drowned men were sure to be welcomed by her. The Wind and the Fire are the brothers of Ægir. The Wind is so strong that he moves large oceans, and stirs up his brother the Fire.

Ægir and Ran have nine beautiful daughters, who live in the sea, and the waves are named after them. These daughters often go three together, and the winds awake them from their sleep. They are not partial to men, and are always seen in storms. All had names emblematic of the waves. They are called Himingloefa, the Heaven Glittering; Dufa, the Dove; Blodughadda, the Bloody-haired; Hefring, the Hurling, or Heaving; Ud, the Loving; HrÖnn, the Towering; Bylgja, the Billowing, or Swelling; Bara, the Lashing; Kolga, the Cooling.

Ægir and Ran were not to let Ivar’s fleet go home quietly. The ships were hardly out of sight of land when the sky became dark and threatening, the clouds hung low and moved with great rapidity, the wind kept increasing in violence, the waves rose higher and higher, and the North Sea was like a sheet of white foam. The sails were reefed on board of several vessels, but Ivar had, like his father, made a vow that he would never reef a sail. The Elidi rose over the waves as if she were a sea-gull, and was so easily steered that the people believed and declared that she understood the human voice. From the southwest, the wind shifted suddenly to the northwest, and alternate gusts of wind and rain followed each other in quick succession.

“It is good,” suddenly exclaimed Hjalmar, “that no man knows his fate beforehand; his mind is thus free from anxiety and sorrow.”

“The day was fine this morning,” answered Ivar, “but after all, a day should be praised at night, a woman after she is buried, a sword after it is tried, ice when it has been crossed over, and a voyage after it is ended.”

“Those are wise sayings,” replied Hjalmar; and as the Elidi and the other ships were ploughing their way fast through the waves, Ivar said to Hjalmar: “Tell me, foster-brother, tell me of those sea-maidens who wander over the sea and pass their lives in doing harm to many men.”

“Those maidens are the daughters of Ægir and Ran,” replied Hjalmar; “they are evil-minded and slay men; they are seldom gentle to us sea-faring people, and the wind arouses them from their sleep, and they look angrily at the ships sailing over the sea. It is they that are those mountainous waves which we see.”

“Who are the maidens,” asked Ivar again, “who walk over the reefs, and journey along the fjords and shores? These white-hooded women have a hard bed, and make little stir in calm weather.”

Hjalmar replied: “These are billows and waves, daughters of Ran; they lay themselves on skerries; their beds are the rocks, and the calm sea stirs them not; but lo, when the wind blows hard, it rouses their anger, and they send the men that are on the deep to Ran, their mother.”

“I fear, foster-brother,” said Ivar, “by the look of the sky, that we are going to meet Ægir and Ran and their daughters erelong in their angry mood.”

The wind kept increasing. “The brother of Ægir, who stirs the ocean,” said the foster-brother, “wishes to see what kind of men are on board of the Elidi and other ships, and if Ivar and his foster-brothers are fearless men; for, as thou seest, the sea is becoming mountain high.”

Then Hjalmar, who was looking at the wake made by the ship, said to Ivar: “Who are those white-helmeted maidens that I seem to see yonder? They are dressed in white, have frowning looks, their breasts heave with passion, and they are coming fast toward the Elidi.”

“Those are three of the daughters of Ægir and Ran, and by their size and fierceness must be HrÖnn, Bylgja, and Hefring; let us beware of them, for there is anger in their looks; they are coming rapidly toward us, and I think they mean us harm.”

Ivar had hardly uttered these words, when there dashed a wave so strongly against the Elidi that it carried away the gunwales. It was HrÖnn, they fancied, that had come against the ship. Then another wave followed HrÖnn; it carried away part of the bows of the Elidi. It was Bylgja. Right after Bylgja, in the wink of an eye, came another wave that swamped the deck of the ship, and flung four men overboard, who were all lost.

Then Hjalmar said: “It is Hefring, who has carried those four men to Ran, and Hroesvelg (the wind) is flapping his wings with great force at heaven’s end so that the tempest may blow still harder.” “It is likely,” said Ivar, “that some more of our men will visit Ran, for the storm is increasing; we shall not be thought fit to come to her hall and in her presence unless we prepare ourselves well for her welcome.” Then he cut asunder several large arm-rings of gold, and divided them among his men; “for,” said he, “I think it right that every man should carry some gold with him, and appear before Ran as befits the rank of every high-born man. We have cut the red rings which the rich father of Hjorvard owned, before Ægir slays us—gold shall be seen on the guests in the middle of the hall of Ran if we need night quarters there.” Then in a musing voice he added: “Ran is handling us roughly, and has taken many of my kin to herself. Verily the land of Ægir’s daughter is not always safe.”

It had become very cold, and Ivar said: “Fire and the sight of the sun are the best things among the sons of men, also their good health and a blameless life, if they can keep them. It is better to be merry than to be down-hearted, whatever may come to hand. Glad and cheerful should every man be until he meets his death.”

The fleet was behaving splendidly in the tempest; the ships rode over the waves as if they had been birds of storms.

The dragon-ships of Sigmund and Sigurd came within hailing distance of the Elidi, and Ivar shouted to them: “Foster-brothers, have the daughters of Ran treated you roughly?”

“Yes,” shouted each in turn. “Several of our men have gone to the hall of Ran, and we have prepared ourselves for this journey, for we are fearless men.”

The wind shifted, and the ships were driven toward the dangerous coast of Norway, and came in sight of the shores of a large island with great weird cliffs hanging over the sea. The storm seemed then to be at its height, the vessels had to run before the wind, every sail had been unreefed to allow them to make their utmost speed, so that they might not be swamped by the huge seas that advanced toward them from behind. “Witchcraft moves the storm,” cried Hjalmar, “and we had better sail under the lee of the island for protection, for we cannot contend with Ægir, nor Ran, and their daughters.”

The Elidi and the other vessels came to the leeward of the island, where it was comparatively calm, and there the Vikings waited for better weather. During the night the storm abated and the wind became fair. On the morrow they sailed away and had good weather for a time, but the wind became stronger and stronger after they were far out to sea, and they were once more in the midst of a great storm; the daughters of Ran once again were roused, and the waves became very high and threatening. Then a snow-storm arose, and the snow fell so thickly that the men in the stern and the prow of the ships could not see each other, and the waves broke over the ships and filled them with water, so the men had to bale for their lives.

“He who travels widely, steadily,” said Ivar, “must meet good and evil.”

“That is certain, foster-brother,” answered Hjalmar. “Now is the time for brave men to be tried, and show that they do not fear death.”

The great waves continued to dash against the Elidi, and Ivar burst forth into a chant, singing: “We, the renowned warriors of chiefs, have come on the deep, and land is out of sight, and I see all the men that defend the Elidi baling the ship.”

The snow fell so fast and thick that they could not discern anything; the night came, and those who were not on the watch put themselves in their leather bags to sleep, and thus protect themselves against wet and cold. Ivar and Hjalmar steered the Elidi alternately. Toward morning they thought they saw nine Valkyrias, helmet-clad and with shining spears, riding in the air, over their ships, and then the storm ceased.

“They have come to protect us and hush the storm; the decree of the Nornir in regard to our death is not yet to be fulfilled,” said Ivar.

Soon after, they saw land, but as it was all covered with snow they could not make out the place, as it is very difficult for mariners to do when snow covers the ground.

Then the fleet hove to for a while, and afterward sailed cautiously along the coast, keeping out of the way of the breakers and islands which rose only to the level of the sea; they came to the mouth of a fjord, and then recognized the land, and saw that they had been driven out of their course. Continuing their voyage southward until they came to Engel, they were received by Gudbrand and Sigrid with great demonstrations of joy; after a short stay they separated, each going his own way, Hjalmar remaining at home during the winter.