held
the ring together; and then each thrust his hand and arm through the ring
and clasped hands together, and stood thus awhile, and all the Folk
shouted together.

Then spake Agni: "Now shall we hew the horses and give the gifts to the
Gods."

Therewith he and the two War-dukes came down from the hill; and stood
before the altar; and the nine warriors of the Daylings stood forth with
axes to hew the horses and with copper bowls wherein to catch the blood
of them, and each hewed down his horse to the Gods, but the two War-dukes
slew the tenth and fairest: and the blood was caught in the bowls, and
Agni took a sprinkler and went round about the ring of men, and cast the
blood of the Gods'-gifts over the Folk, as was the custom of those days.

Then they cut up the carcases and burned on the altar the share of the
Gods, and Agni and the War-dukes tasted thereof, and the rest they bore
off to the Daylings' abode for the feast to be holden that night.

Then Otter and Thiodolf spake apart together for awhile, and presently
went up again on to the Speech-Hill, and Thiodolf said:

"O kindreds of the Markmen; to-morrow with the day
We shall wend up Mirkwood-water to bar our foes the way;
And there shall we make our wain-burg on the edges of the wood,
Where in the days past over at last the aliens stood,
The Slaughter Tofts ye call it. There tidings shall we get
If the curse of the world is awakened, and the serpent crawleth yet
Amidst the Mirkwood thicket; and when the sooth we know,
Then bearing battle with us through the thicket shall we go,
The ancient Wood-wolf's children, and the People of the Shield,
And the Spear-kin and the Horse-kin, while the others keep the field
About the warded wain-burg; for not many need we there
Where amidst of the thickets' tangle and the woodland net they fare,
And the hearts of the aliens falter and they curse the fight ne'er
done,
And wonder who is fighting and which way is the sun."

Thus he spoke; then Agni took up the war-horn again, and blew a blast,
and then he cried out:

"Now sunder we the Folk-mote! and the feast is for to-night,
And to-morrow the Wayfaring; But unnamed is the day of the fight;
O warriors, look ye to it that not long we need abide
'Twixt the hour of the word we have spoken, and our fair-fame's
blooming tide!
For then 'midst the toil and the turmoil shall we sow the seeds of
peace,
And