Paradise Reclaimed by Halldor Laxness

Everything on the other side of the river now belonged to Leirur. Björn the agent bought up the crofts that had stood on the coastal plains listening to the thunder of the surf beyond the sands for a thousand years. He broke up the farms and added the land to his own estate.

One late-summer evening, on the way home from the hay-making in darkness and drizzle, she waited for an opportunity to lag behind the others: Yes, I am the girl. While the others went to have their supper and rest their weary limbs, she turned back and headed down towards the river. She knew the ancient ford that the old crofters, now long since gone, had once used; she had made a little cairn of three stones at the point where the ponies could cross. Despite the darkness, she managed to find her stone marker. Then she waded into the river. The water seldom reached above her knees, but in places the river-bed was treacherous underfoot. In daylight she knew where it was safe to cross, all right, but in the darkness she could not pick out the landmarks; twice she blundered into quicksands and had to turn back. At the third attempt she thought she could just make out the far bank about twelve feet away, when suddenly without any warning the water was up to her armpits and she was gasping and calling to God for help. As on so many other occasions, God was not slow to react, and created a sandbar for her that had never been there before and now rose up in the middle of the river. And just as she was losing her footing in the icy water she managed to scramble on to this newly-created sandbar. Luckily the river was shallow on the other side of it, and soon the girl was standing on the grassy bank and was wringing out her clothes.