a rope, it would not be so bad to struggle against eight others as
against Thrain.

Then Hromund climbed down by a rope.--It was during the night; and
when he had got down, he gathered up a great amount of treasure and
bound it to the end of the rope.

Thrain had been King of Valland in bygone days and had won all his
victories by magic. He had wrought great evil; and when he was so old
that he could fight no longer, he had got himself shut up alive in the
barrow, and much treasure along with him.

Now Hromund saw a sword hanging up on a pillar. He took it down,
girded it on, and marched up to the throne, saying:

"It is time for me to leave the barrow since there is no-one to stop
me. But what ails you, old fellow? Have you not seen me gathering up
your money while you sit quietly by, you hateful cur? Were you not
ashamed to look on while I took your sword and necklace and ever so
many more of your treasures?"

Thrain said that he cared for nothing if only he would let him sit
quietly on his throne: "Formerly," he continued, "I used to be the
first to fight. I must have become a great coward if I let you rob me
of my wealth single handed; but I'm going to prevent your taking my
treasures; you had better beware of me, dead though I am."

Then said Hromund: "Hoist yourself up on your legs, coward and
weakling, and take back your sword from me if you dare."

The ghost replied: "There is no glory in attacking me with a sword
when I am unarmed. I would rather try my strength in wrestling with
you."

Then Hromund flung down the sword and trusted to his strength. When
Thrain saw that, he took down his cauldron which he kept above him.
He was by no means pleasant to watch as he blew up his fire, ready to
make a meal from the cauldron. The body of the cauldron was full,
and there was a big flame beneath its feet. Thrain was wearing a
gold-wrought mantle. Both his hands were crooked and his finger nails
were like talons.

Hromund said: "Get down off your throne, vile wretch, now that you
have been robbed of all wealth."

Then said the ghost: "To be sure, it is high time to get on my legs,
since you taunt me with lack of courage."

Day departed, and evening drew on, and it became dark in the barrow.
Then the ghost began wrestling with Hromund and threw down his
cauldron. Hromund put forth all his strength, and they fought so hard
that rubble and stones were torn up. Then the ghost sank down on one
knee, saying: