On the forecastle Ulf the Red

Watched the lashing of the ships;

"If the Serpent lie so far ahead,

We shall have hard work of it here,”

Said he with a sneer

On his bearded lips.

King Olaf laid an arrow on string,

"Have I a coward on board?" said he.

"Shoot it another way, O King!

Sullenly answered Ulf,

The old sea-wolf;

"You have need of me!"

In front came Svend, the King of the Danes, Sweeping down with his fifty rowers ;

To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes;

And on board of the Iron Beard

Earl Eric steered

On the left with his oars.

"These soft Danes and Swedes," said the King, "At home with their wives had better stay, Than come within reach of my Serpent's sting:

But where Eric the Norseman leads

Heroic deeds

Will be done to-day!"

Then as together the vessels crashed,

Eric severed the cables of hide,

With which King Olaf's ships were lashed,

And left them to drive and drift

With the currents swift

Of the outward tide.

Louder the war-horns growl and snarl,

Sharper the dragons bite and sting!

Eric the son of Hakon Jarl

A death-drink salt as the sea

Pledges to thee,

Olaf the King!

XX.

EINAR TAMBERSKELVER.

It was Einar Tamberskelver

Stood beside the mast;

From his yew-bow, tipped with silver,

Flew the arrows fast;

Aimed at Eric unavailing,

As he sat concealed,

Half behind the quarter-railing,

Half behind his shield.

First an arrow struck the tiller,

66

Just above his head;

Sing, O Eyvind Skaldaspiller,"

Then Earl Eric said.

"Sing the song of Hakon dying,

Sing his funeral wail!"

And another arrow flying

Grazed his coat of mail.

Turning to a Lapland yeoman,

As the arrow passed,

Said Earl Eric, "Shoot that bowman

Standing by the mast."

Sooner than the word was spoken

Flew the yeoman's shaft;

Einar's bow in twain was broken,

Einar only laughed.

"What was that?" said Olaf, standing

On the quarter-deck.

"Something heard I like the stranding

Of a shattered wreck."

Einar then, the arrow taking

From the loosened string,

Answered, “That was Norway breaking

From thy hand, O king!”

“Thou art but a poor diviner,"

Straightway Olaf said;

"Take my bow, and swifter, Einar, Let thy shafts be sped."

Of his bows the fairest choosing,

Reached he from above;

Einar saw the blood-drops oozing

Through his iron glove.

But the bow was thin and narrow;

At the first assay,

O'er its head he drew the arrow,

Flung the bow away;