hen he went to Valhalla, and the ships
were wrecked off Sicily, and Adolf the Balth turned back like a lazy
hound, and married the daughter of the Romans, whom Odin hates, and went
northward again to Gaul, did not I sing you all the song of Asgard in
Messina there, till you swore to follow the Amal through fire and water
until we found the hall of Odin, and received the mead-cup from his own
hand? Hear it again, warriors of the Goths!'

'Not that song!' roared the Amal, stopping his ears with both his hands.
'Will you drive us blood-mad again, just as we are settling down into
our sober senses, and finding out what our lives were given us for?'

'Hear the song of Asgard! On to Asgard, wolves of the Goths!' shouted
another; and a babel of voices arose.

'Haven't we been fighting and marching these seven years?'

'Haven't we drunk blood enough to satisfy Odin ten times over? If he
wants us lot him come himself and lead us!'

'Let us get our winds again before we start afresh!'

'Wulf the Prince is like his name, and never tires; he has a
winter-wolf's legs under him; that is no reason why we should have.'

'Haven't you heard what the monk says?-we can never get ever those
cataracts.'

'We'll stop his old wives' tales for him, and then settle for
ourselves,' said Smid; and springing from the thwart where he had been
sitting, he caught up a bill with one hand, and seized Philammon's
throat with the other.... in a moment more, it would have been all over
with him....

For the first time in his life Philammon felt a hostile gripe upon him,
and a new sensation rushed through every nerve, as he grappled with the
warrior, clutched with his left hand the up-lifted wrist, and with his
right the girdle, and commenced, without any definite aim, a fierce
struggle, which, strange to say, as it went on, grew absolutely
pleasant.

The women shrieked to their lovers to part the combatants, but in vain.

'Not for worlds! A very fair match and a very fair fight! Take your long
legs back, Itho, or they will be over you! That's right, my Smid, don't
use the knife! They will be overboard in a moment! By all the Valkyrs,
they are down, and Smid undermost!'

There was no doubt of it; and in another moment Philammon would have
wrenched the bill out of his opponent's hand, when, to the utter
astonishment of the onlookers, he suddenly loosed his hold, shook
himself free by one powerful wrench, and quietly retreated to his seat,
cons