ad to deal with stones. For now men fell on them, and they
defended themselves in good and manly wise, and were the scathe of many
a man, nor would iron bite on them.

But there came thereto a certain man, old of aspect and one-eyed, (1)
and he spake--

"No wise men are ye, whereas ye cannot bring these men to their end."

Then the king said, "Give us rede thereto, if thou canst."

He said, "Smite them to the death with stones."

In such wise was it done, for the stones flew thick and fast from every
side, and that was the end of their life-days.

And now has come to an end the whole root and stem of the Giukings. (2)

NOW MAY ALL EARLS
BE BETTERED IN MIND,
MAY THE GRIEF OF ALL MAIDENS
EVER BE MINISHED,
FOR THIS TALE OF TROUBLE
SO TOLD TO ITS ENDING.

ENDNOTES:
(1) Odin; he ends the tale as he began it.
(2) "And now," etc., inserted by translators from the Poetic
Edda, the stanza at the end from the Whetting of Gudrun.

APPENDIX: EXCERPTS FROM THE POETIC EDDA.

PART OF THE SECOND LAY OF HELGI HUNDINGS-BANE (1)

Helgi wedded Sigrun, and they begate sons together, but Helgi lived not
to be old; for Dag, (2) the son of Hogni, sacrificed to Odin, praying
that he might avenge his father. So Odin lent Dag his spear, and Dag met
Helgi, his brother-in-law, at a place called Fetter-grove, and thrust
him through with that spear, and there fell Helgi dead; but Dag rode to
Sevafell, and told Sigrun of the news.

DAG:
Loth am I, sister
Of sorrow to tell thee,
For by hard need driven
Have I drawn on the greeting;
This morning fell
In Fetter-grove
The king well deemed
The best in the wide world,
Yea, he who stood
On the necks of the strong."

SIGRUN:
All oaths once sworn
Shall bite thee sore,
The oaths that to Helgi
Once thou swarest
At the bright white
Water of Lightening, (3)
And at the cold rock
That the sea runneth over.

May the ship sweep not on
That should sweep at its swiftest,
Though the wind desired
Behind thee driveth!
May the horse never run
That should run at his most might
When from thy foe's face
Thou hast most need to flee!

May the sword never bite
That thou drawest from scabbard
But and if round thine head
In wrath it singeth!

Then should meet price be paid