"Easy to say, but hard to do," quoth Eric; "this is a great rope that
holds us, and a strong."

"Yes, it is great and strong; still, we must burst it."

Now Eric and Skallagrim were made fast in this fashion: their hands were
bound behind them, and their legs were lashed above the feet and above
the knee. Moreover, a thick cord was fixed about the waist of each, and
this cord was passed through the iron ring and knotted there. But it
chanced that beneath the hollows of their knees ran an oaken beam, which
held the forepart of the dragon together.

"We may try this," said Eric: "to set our feet against the beam and
strain with all our strength upon the rope; though I think that no two
men can part it."

"We shall know that presently," said Skallagrim, gathering up his legs.

Then they set their feet against the beam and pulled till it groaned;
but, though the rope gave somewhat, it would not break. They rested a
while, then strained again till the sweat burst out upon them and the
rope cut into their flesh, but still it would not part.

"We have found our match," said Eric.

"That is not altogether proved yet," answered the Baresark. "Many a
shield is riven at the third stroke."

So once again they set their feet against the beam, and put out all
their strength.

"The ring bends," gasped Eric. "Now, when the roll of the ship throws
our weight to leeward, in the name of Thor pull!"

They waited, then put out their might, and lo! though the rope did not
break, the iron ring burst asunder and they rolled upon the deck.

"Well pulled, truly," said Skallagrim as he struggled to his haunches:
"I am marked about the middle with rope-twists for many a day to come,
that I will swear. What next, lord?"

"Whitefire," answered Eric.

Now, their arms were piled a fathom or more from where they sat, and
right in the prow of the ship. Hither, then, they must crawl upon their
knees, and this was weary work, for ever as the ship rolled they fell,
and could in no wise save themselves from hurt. Eric was bleeding at the
brow, and bloody was the hooked nose of Skallagrim, before they came to
where Whitefire was. At length they reached the sword, and pushed aside
the bucklers that were over it with their heads. The great war-blade was
sheathed, and Eric must needs lie upon his breast and draw the weapon
somewhat with his teeth.

"This is an ill razor to shave with," he said, rising, for the keen
blade had cut his chin.

"S