Tragedy in a single cliff


Me and my wife along with our daughter were staying in our country cabin early this spring. This was our first stay in the summer cabin this year. Our daughter agreed to come with us even though she had a lot of homework. It´s always like this when the end of the school year is near. Our daughter agreed that she would come but only if she would get peace to attend to her studies. The parents promised to behave.

The attention of the teenager, however, meant that the school books were forgotten at the outskirts of Reykjavik. She remembered that one of the weekend's activities was to write a review in Icelandic. For this, no school books, only a sheet of paper, a pen and a good idea. The idea of ​​a story did not get so smooth, so Gudrun asked her daughter if she had heard of the tragedy at Einstakaklett. Perhaps she could use something from the narrative that sparked the story.

The incident took place when our daughter´s great-granfather Brynjólfur Bjarnason, was a farmer in Krókur in Norðurárdalur. This happened probably shortly after Brynjólfur and his wife Arndís started farming there in the year XNUMX. The weather was as good as it gets in this country. The sun baked the household as they where working hard mowing the grass. New technology had not yet found its way up to the valley so they mowed the grass the old way with a scythe. Since it was a hot day the workers must have been pouring sweat.

The uniqueness is in the middle of the river. Around him there is a deep shed that is tempting to spring out when the weather is hot. Especially there is a rock in the middle of the north below the town of Krók. At the rock there are big and lying covers that could be tempted on hot summer days. On the day of work, a worker who was on the farm was going to shrink down and rinse off said. Brynjólfur warns him by the river, although it is tempting to bathe in the shelf below Einstakaklett, it is astonishing because the river is a glacial cold. He suggests the worker to bathe only because water is standing and not at all as the rocks shade over the sheath.

The worker did not return and the household started to search for him. They found him dead in the river. Although no one witnessed the incident evidence suggested that he had jumped from the cliff into the abyss and his body simply failed to tolerate the change in heat when the cold water encircled him. This incident rested heavily on Brynjólfur, and his steps have undoubtedly been a heavy when he walked down to the river to drag the lifeless body out of the river. He dragged the body out of the river by a place called Þrælavað (Slavers Wade) beneath the abyss by Single Rock. There the river is shallow.
A unique rock is located in the middle of the North Sea below the town of Krók. At the rock there are tall and lying covers that could tempt on hot summer days. Probably the people have been entering the home below the town. When this event happened, there was not a single tree around him.
The birds were singing and the sun played with all those who did not stand in a shadow. I had been working from sunrise and through the hottest part of the day. Finally I finished the days work.

The hands were swollen after keeping a tight grip on the scythe I used to mow the grass from the meadow. The sweat poured down my body and every muscule screamed for rest. I walked past the meadow towards the turf farm where the farmer and his wife were waiting for me. I told them that my work was done this day. The farmer thanked me for the work and agreed to my wish to bathe me in the river which was in a short distance from the farm.

The river was like a mirror. The sun had warmed it the whole day and when I put my hand into it it felt nice and refreshing. It was tempting to jump right in but like the farmer adviced me I pushed myself slowly into the abyss. At first the river was cold but after a while I got used to the cold. I closed my eyes and let the current carry me on.

I opened my eyes again when I felt a cold shadow on my face instead of the warm sun. I tried to swim from the shadow that made the river so cold, but it seemed that my body could not answer. I was stuck in the deepest abyss of the river. In a cold shadow that cast from Single Rock rising from the middle of the river. I felt the cold creep through my body until it had reached every limb. I fought for my breath but I could not. Finally, the cold locked around my heart.

Ingibjörg Lilja - 9.U at Laugalækjarskóli