their spears and then drew their swords. Then King
Hakon, and Thoralf with him, went in advance of the banner, cutting down
on both sides of them. So says Eyvind Skaldaspiller:--

"The body-coats of naked steel,
The woven iron coats of mail,
Like water fly before the swing
Of Hakon's sword--the champion-king.
About each Gotland war-man's head
Helm splits, like ice beneath the tread,
Cloven by the axe or sharp swordblade,
The brave king, foremost in the fight,
Dyes crimson-red the spotless white
Of his bright shield with foemen's gore.--
Amidst the battle's wild uproar,
Wild pealing round from shore to shore."

31. FALL OF SKREYJA AND ASKMAN.

King Hakon was very conspicuous among other men, and also when the sun
shone his helmet glanced, and thereby many weapons were directed at him.
Then Eyvind Finson took a hat and put it over the king's helmet. Now
Eyvind Skreyja called out, "Does the king of the Norsemen hide himself,
or has he fled? Where is now the golden helmet?" Then Eyvind, and his
brother Alf with him, pushed on like fools or madmen. King Hakon shouted
to Eyvind, "Come on as thou art coming, and thou shalt find the king of
the Norsemen." So says Eyvind Skaldaspiller:--

"The raiser of the storm of shields,
The conqueror in battle fields,--
Hakon the brave, the warrior's friend,
Who scatters gold with liberal hand,
Heard Skreyja's taunt, and saw him rush,
Amidst the sharp spears' thickest push,
And loudly shouted in reply--
'If thou wilt for the victory try,
The Norseman's king thou soon shall find!
Hold onwards, friend! Hast thou a mind!"

It was also but a short space of time before Eyvind did come up swinging
his sword, and made a cut at the king; but Thoralf thrust his shield so
hard against Eyvind that he tottered with the shock. Now the king takes
his sword Kvernbit with both hands, and hewed Eyvind through helm and
head, and clove him down to the shoulders. Thoralf also slew Alf Askman.
So says Eyvind Skaldaspiller:--

"With both his hands the gallant king
Swung round his sword, and to the chin
Clove Eyvind down: his faithless mail
Against it could no more avail,
Than the thin plank against the shock
When the ship's side beats on the rock.
By his bright sword with golden haft
Thro' helm, and head, and hair, was cleft
The Danish