, but he was one of King Harald's ordinary men-at-arms;
whereas Erling was opposed by one of the most celebrated of the King's
warriors--Hake, the berserk of Hadeland--a man whose name and prowess
were known far and wide, not only in Norway, but in Denmark, and all
along the southern shores of the Baltic. It would have been strange
indeed had such a man fallen easily before any human arm, much more
strange had he succumbed at once to one that had been already much
exhausted with fighting.

True to the brotherhood to which he belonged, the berserk attacked
Erling with incredible fury. He roared more like a mad bull than a man
as he made the onset; his eyes glared, his mouth foamed, and he bit his
shield as he was driven back. Being fresh, he danced round Erling
perpetually, springing in to cut and thrust, and leaping back to avoid
the terrific blows which the latter fetched at him with his weighty axe.
Once he made a cut at Erling's head, which the latter did not attempt
to parry, intending to trust to his helmet to defend him, and forgetting
for the moment that he had cast that useful piece of armour on the
plain. Luckily the blow was not truly aimed. It shore a lock from
Erling's head as he swung his axe against his opponent's shield, and
battered him down on his knees; but the berserk leaped up with a yell,
and again rushed at him. Hake happened just then to cast his eyes on
the two men who were quietly looking on, and he so managed the fight for
a few moments afterwards that he got near to them. Then turning towards
them with a howl of demoniacal fury, he made a desperate cut at the
unsuspecting Glumm, who was taken so thoroughly by surprise that he made
no movement whatever to defend himself. Fortunately. Kettle Flatnose
was on the alert, but he had only time to thrust his sword awkwardly
between Glumm's head and the descending weapon. The act prevented a
fatal gash, but it could not altogether arrest the force of the blow,
which fell on the flat of his sword, and beat it down on Glumm's skull
so violently that he was instantly stretched upon the green sward.
Erling's axe fell on the helm of the berserk almost at the same time.
Even in that moment of victory a feeling of respect for the courage and
boldness of this man touched the heart of Erling, who, with the
swiftness of thought, put in force his favourite practice--he turned the
edge of the axe, and the broad side of it fell on the steel headpiece
with