Gripped by their mood so joyous
Said the King then:

“Skalds, now sing us a war-song,
All of us will echo every word;
Norsemen will sing it in ages
Far distant-

As long as they shall love song
Before battle."

Then sang Gissur the swarthy,

While forward by the side of the King he rode, Pledging troth to his liege-lord

In measures lofty.

Each stave the army noted;

High upsoared Gissur's silver-clear tones,

Echoed them all the army,

Like the ocean

Billow on billow rolled over
The meadow.

Then sang Tormod the mighty,

In the van he rode, but backward turned his face, Drew from his hearers responses

Tempestuous.

The stave they learned; they sang it

Almost before he himself had ended with it,

Jubilant caught and repeated,

And sang it. . . .

The hills and the mighty forests
Gave answer.

Then rose the blithe voice of Torfinn,

Who set himself backward on his horse and

sang.

Sang, as with jest and laughter

They hailed him;

They might not for very laughter

Join in the song, and when anew he sang-
Even less were they able;

They shouted.

The echoes crackled around

In the hill-tops.

So they went toward the valley,

When the dark fell at last on that day of early fall

Turned they aside, and gathered

On the lowland.

Mass here the whole army

Heard, while they in secret thanked
The Lord, who to their native soil

Restored them.

In their joy some broke from the fields
Spikes of grain.

TENTH SONG

IN THE CAMP

CAMP they have pitched, it is well-nigh dark; Outstretched lie the men in the field, the wood skirting; Bonfires of brushwood dot all the ground,

Some of them half-quenched,

Others smoking; sleep overcomes them.

Forth from the forest emerge two men,

Between the groups of men whetting their weapons,

Now over others, asleep 'neath their shields,

Onward they grope

Until before the King's fire they stand.

Fur-clad and tall, like giants they loomed,
Their hair and beard was matted and tangled,
Broad-axes at side, spear-shafts in hand,
No shields they bore,

Over their backs their bows were slung.

Their heads they bared not; stiffly they stood

Before the King's presence, staring at him
In the half-light of the dying fire,

Darkness behind,

Like two wild beasts they emerged from the night.

Sat the King there 'midst a ring of men,

The bishop, Finn Arnesson, and Björn Stallar,

Behind them lay Tormod in Gissur's lap.

Crouching sat Torfinn,

Humming raked up the fire.

At the same moment all saw the men;

Torfinn grinned, and Finn burst out laughing; Björn became thoughtful, reached for his sword, The bishop grew pale,

The King alone sat still as before.

Questioning gazed he, but spoke no word.
Clearly his features were seen in the fire-light,
His helmet was doffed, and his brown-yellow hair
Streaming fell down

Over the shoulders wrapped in his cloak.

Felt the men his masterful look

Like a stream of fire through their veins coursing, Hastened to speak,.ere the question came;

Fear felt they not,

But it seemed as if all he saw.

"Brothers we are from Iamtland come,
Our names are Tore and Afrafaste.
Warriors were we with Arnljot Gelline;
Now we are thine,

We and our band, some thirty men."

"Where is Arnljot? Comes he not too?” Questioned the King;-whereat Tore answered:

"Heart-heavy grew Arnljot, afar he fared. From him has come

No report. He is lost at sea."

The King grew silent, forgetful seemed.
Never a word the others uttered.

Only Finn Arnesson gave them a nod;
He liked their looks;-

Once more the King questioned them:

"Me will ye serve;·

-serve ye

also

Jesus Christ, Lord of us all?"

"Nay, no god have we ever served; —

Wasteful it were!

Let each man do what seems to him best."

"Believe ye in nothing?"-"Ay, in ourselves; Thus to believe we learned from Arnljot.

Have thy men, who believe in a god,

Day in, day out,

More achieved than one of us?"

"A thousand-fold; highwaymen ye are; Plainly I see, ye have done but evil. But if ye desire,-baptism atones: