10. 2.  At that time Wager-of-Battle Berse dwelt at Sower-by, at the homestead that is called Tongue.  He went to see Olaf, and offered to foster his son Halldór.  Olaf accepted it, and Halldór went home with him.  He was then one winter old.  That summer Berse was taken ill, and he lay abed long through the summer.  It is told that one day, when men were at the hay-making at Tongue, and they two, Halldór and Berse, alone at home, Halldór was lying in his cradle, and the cradle fell with the boy, and the boy out of the cradle on to the floor.  Then Berse told the boy that he could not move to help him.

We are both lying up on the bench
    fast-held or enthralled,
Halldór and I, we are helpless both,
Age masters me, and babyhood thee;
Thou wilt grow better of this, but not I.

Afterwards people came and picked Halldór up off the floor, and Berse got better.  Halldór was bred up there, and was a big man and a doughty. (Origines Islandicae, Vigusson-Powell, 1905)