in a voice of almost womanly tenderness.

Hakon made an effort to speak, but for some time was unable to do so,
and Glumm held his shield over him to keep off the stones and arrows
which fell thickly around them. After a few moments Hakon wiped away
the blood which flowed from a deep wound in his forehead, and looked up
wildly in Glumm's face. He tried again to speak, and Glumm,
misunderstanding the few words he muttered, said: "Thou art already
avenged, King Hakon; Swankie the berserk is dead."

The dying man made another effort to speak, and was successful.

"That concerns me little, Glumm. Thou lovest Ada, I know. This ring--
take it to her, say her father's last thoughts were of her. Be a good
husband, Glumm. The brooch--see."

"Which?" asked Glumm, looking at several silver brooches with which the
old warrior's armour was fastened--"this one on thy breast?"

"Aye, take it--it was--her mother's."

The warrior's spirit seemed to be relieved when he had said this. He
sank down into a state resembling sleep. Once or twice afterwards he
opened his eyes and gazed up into the bright sky with a doubtful yet
earnest and enquiring gaze. Gradually the breathing became fainter,
until it ceased altogether, and Glumm saw that the old man was dead.

Fastening the brooch on his own broad chest, and putting the ring on his
finger, Glumm rose, seized his sword, and rushed again into the thick of
the fight with tenfold more fury than he had yet displayed, and ere long
the danger that threatened the left wing was for the time averted.

Meanwhile in the centre there was an equally uncertain and obstinate
conflict--for the chiefs on either side were mighty men of valour.
Wherever Old Guttorm's voice was heard, there victory inclined. Haldor,
on the other hand, did not shout, but he laid about him with such wild
ferocity that many men quailed at the very sight of him, and wherever he
went he was victorious. It was some time before he managed to get
alongside of King Harald Fairhair's ship, but when he did so the fight
became sharp in the extreme.

All the men in King Harald's ship, except the berserks, were clad in
coats of ring mail, and wore foreign helmets, and most of them had white
shields. Besides, as has been said, each man was celebrated for
personal strength and daring, so that none of those who were opposed to
them could make head against them. The arrows and spears fell harmless
from their shields, casqu