One evening in the month of May, 1285, a crowd of seamen and porpoise-hunters was assembled on the quay of Gremermarsh, below Hindsgavl's meadows, near Middelfert. They regarded, with strained attention, a large skiff which had left Snoghoj, and was struggling against wind and tide to approach the quay, where the landing was less dangerous than in the bad haven of the town. A storm, unusual at this mild period of the year, stirred up the unquiet waters of the Little Belt. The more experienced ferrymen shook their heads, and thought it was most advisable that the skiff should seek shelter under Fanoe or the Jutland Weald. "Nonsense, fellows!" said a deep, gruff voice; "here they can and shal…
Your support pays for translating these classics into more languages.
Support for $12/month DonateSubscribers read with instant translation, without waiting for the free daily limit.